Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Even if I had originally planned to go to college for a nursing degree, my backup plan had been to intern with our Camorra doc, but the Famiglia doc was a valid option too.
Carlotta’s eyes grew wide. “Do you really think your dad will allow it?”
Dad was protective of me, but Mom wasn’t as strict. And Dad trusted me. He knew I wasn’t a troublemaker, which was another reason he couldn’t find out about last night. I’d be grounded for eternity. Nobody in the Camorra would care that I was practically an adult.
“If I say the right thing…”
“Aren’t you worried he’ll get suspicious?”
“He can’t ever find out. No one can.”
Carlotta bit her lip. “If you ever marry…”
Of course Carlotta’s thought would go in that direction. For her, entering marriage as a virgin was of utmost importance. I flushed. “I don’t have any plans to marry any time soon.” I still couldn’t imagine being with anyone but Nevio, which was exactly why I needed to get as far away as possible as soon as possible.
“Rory, did he use protection?”
I froze. “No. I mean…I don’t think so. I didn’t really pay attention.” I swallowed. “But like I said he passed out…”
Carlotta still looked concerned, and I was too. Even if the chances were very slim, they were there. I knew enough about conception and contraception to realize that pregnancy could occur without the man having an actual orgasm.
“When is your period due?”
“In around ten to twelve days.”
My stomach tightened. I didn’t even want to consider that by some stroke of bad luck, my miserable first time—if it even qualified as that—would lead to lifelong consequences in the form of a child. Nevio’s child.
This would definitely end Dad’s close bond with the Falcones.
Scratch that. It would end in several deaths…
Mom picked me up at Carlotta’s in the early afternoon after a meeting with a client, a Camorra soldier, who was in trouble at the local police station.
Her eyes were practically X-raying me as I got into the car, but I’d showered for almost an hour, put on plenty of makeup to cover my sickly skin tone, and decided on a colorful dress from Carlotta’s wardrobe. I looked positively peachy.
“You look nice,” I said, not just to appease her but because I liked Mom’s business looks of fitted dresses and blazers with matching pumps. She looked so different from the easygoing Mom I knew from home.
Mom smiled slightly and waited for me to buckle up before she pulled away. “Your father isn’t happy that you spent the night at Carlotta’s without a warning.”
“I called last night.”
Mom nodded. “You did, and we appreciate that, but it still would have been nice if you decided your sleepovers in advance so Dad can make sure security is in place.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Mom, I was at Carlotta’s, and her brother was there. Dad knows Diego can protect us.”
Mom nodded again, focused on traffic as she steered the BMW SUV. “Still, the sudden change of plans made him wonder if something occurred that led to the decision.” Mom stopped at a red light and slanted me a look she probably used on her clients too. Stern and X-raying. “Did anything happen at the party that I should know about?”
I didn’t miss that she didn’t include Dad. Mom knew that Dad, like many Made Men, could be overprotective. “What could have possibly happened? Everyone knows who I am, and the Unholy Trinity would have kicked anyone’s ass.”
“Language,” Mom scolded gently, which I always found funny because sometimes she forgot herself and cursed badly when she drove.
“My life’s horrifically uneventful, just how Dad likes it,” I said. My skin felt warm and itchy even as the lies slipped easily from my lips. I could still sense Mom’s suspicion and decided to sprinkle my lie with some truth to get her off my back. “I had a couple of beers and threw up. It was really embarrassing. Carlotta had to hold my hair back, and I got some vomit on myself and her dress. I didn’t want to go home like that. You know what Dad would have said.”
Mom pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t drink.”
“Everyone does, and it was just two bottles of beer, but my body simply doesn’t tolerate it. Don’t tell Dad about it. He’ll make a big deal of it and somehow compare the situation to what happened with Grandma as if me having a drink at a party like every teenager will lead to me becoming a drug addict.”
Grandma was Mom’s weak spot. I knew she and Dad had fought because of her in the past, so I felt a tad guilty that I was using it to save my ass, but the situation was too dire.
“We won’t tell your dad. But you have to promise me not to drink again.”