Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
It was good. How was your day?
Christ, I hate unnecessary pleasantries. I’d much rather ask her personal questions so I can get to know her.
Training is boring. I can’t wait to go home.
I’m hoping the honest answer will encourage her to open up to me.
While I wait for Tiana’s reply, I dial my mother’s number.
“Amore mio,” Mamma answers, “I was just about to call you. How are you? Are you eating enough? How’s the training? When are you coming home for a weekend? I miss you,” she rambles one question after the other.
I let out a chuckle. “I’m good. I’ll make arrangements to come home next month.”
“Mammamia! That’s too far from now. Your mamma misses her baby.”
Yeah, at twenty-five, I’m still my mother’s baby. Nothing in the world will change that.
“I’ll be home for good in three months,” I remind her. “Listen, I have something to tell you.”
“What?” The word is sharp, telling me my mother is probably busy going into worrying mode.
“Nothing bad,” I say to set her at ease, then I drop the bomb, “I’m going to get married.”
There’s a moment’s silence, and I can picture my mother blinking as if she’s short-circuiting, then the words flow from her. “Who? Is she Italian? When did you decide this? Why haven’t you brought her to meet me?”
“She’s Russian, and you’ll only meet her once I’m done with my training. She’s a beautiful, respectful woman.”
“Who is she?” Mamma demands.
“Misha’s sister.”
“Oh.” Mamma lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh, good. I like the boy. You say she’s pretty?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Knowing the information will soften Mamma’s heart toward Tiana, I say, “She’s introverted and vulnerable. We’ll have to take good care of her.”
“Of course,” Mamma mutters. “Can she cook?”
“Yes. Misha says Tiana loves cooking and baking. She even smells like vanilla cupcakes.”
“Aww, bless the girl. I want to see her with my own eyes before I give my blessing.”
“Of course.” I chuckle, then tell her, “I’m heading to dinner now. I’ll call you again next week.”
“Make sure you eat enough,” Mamma warns before we end the call.
I smile as I leave my suit, and finding a message from Tiana waiting for me, I read it quickly.
Hopefully, the three months will go by in a blink of an eye. Thank you for checking in on me. Have a good night’s rest.
Unable to resist the urge to make things less formal and more personal between us, I reply, Sweet dreams, piccola.
Chapter 7
Tiana
Piccola?
I type the word into Google then stare at what the search throws back at me.
Piccola means small or little. It’s a term of endearment for a young child.
Armani thinks of me as a young child. That sucks.
With a sigh, I drop my phone on my bed, and not at all in the mood to go out for dinner with Karlin, I drag myself over to my closet so I can change out of my cozy sweater and leggings.
It stings a little that Armani sees me as a child. It means there’s no hope of Misha arranging a marriage for me with him.
But that’s the least of my problems. Right now, I have to worry about the date with Karlin.
The thought makes panic whirl in my stomach.
Misha will stop the marriage between Karlin and me.
I almost sent Misha a message this afternoon, but not wanting to ruin his special time with Aurora, I decided against it.
He has other priorities now that he’s a married man, and the sooner I learn to stand on my own two feet, the better.
It’s easier said than done, though.
Reluctantly, I change into black pants and a warm turtleneck long-sleeve shirt. I pair the outfit with knee-high boots and grab my fur coat. With winter just around the corner, the nights are quite cold.
Making sure I’m ready with ten minutes to spare, I head downstairs to wait for Karlin. As I reach the foyer, I hear voices coming from the living room, and my stomach sinks.
He’s early.
The instant I step into the room, Karlin’s eyes flick to me.
“Finally!” The single word sounds like a lash of a whip.
“You look beautiful, Tiana,” Mrs. Aslanhov compliments me.
“Let’s go.” Karlin glances at Mr. Aslanhov. “We’ll talk after dinner.”
“Enjoy the date,” Mrs. Aslanhov calls out.
Karlin grabs hold of my bicep, and I’m practically hauled out of the house before I can think to reply to Mrs. Aslanhov. I have to jog to keep up with his long strides, and I’m shoved toward a black G-Wagon.
Jesus, he doesn’t have to be such a brute!
I notice two guards who climb into the front of the car while I get into the back seat. The moment Karlin slides in beside me, his arm darts out, his fingers clamp around my throat, and I’m yanked closer to him. A startled squeak escapes me.