Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
He scowls, eyes narrowing. Would he seriously shoot me here in this house, with everybody waiting for us? Not that I think he would particularly care about our surroundings, but there are guards everywhere, waiting for him to walk me down the aisle. I’m sure everybody saw him walking in here, too. It’s not the kind of situation he could escape easily.
Once I look at it that way, I have the courage to lift my chin a little higher. “I don’t want to do this, but at least you made it possible for me to keep my life when you didn’t expose me. I guess I should thank you for that.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” he growls, looking toward the door over his shoulder before turning back to me. “Last chance. We both know you don’t want to do this. Tell me where the package is, and I’ll see to it you get out of here. I’ll take care of everything. You’ll be free and never have to see any of us again. But I need that damn package.”
I could weep. I honestly could. Not because I believe he would actually set me free. Men like him don’t keep big promises like that to people like me. He thinks I’m a thief. Why would he let me go? As soon as he had what he wanted, I’d be dead.
But then I’m dead either way, aren’t I? And I have been from the beginning. Anything else I’ve told myself was a lie, an illusion I only wanted to be true. My hopes of escape, all of it. One fairy tale after another.
“I would tell you if I knew,” I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion I can’t hide. “And I am sorry. Really. I never wanted to get mixed up in all this.”
He stopped listening as soon as I turned him down. “Very well. That’s what you want? You just dug your own grave.” He hides the gun again before grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me toward the door. “Then we’d better get you out there. Your loving groom is waiting.”
“What are you going to do?” I whisper in terror once we reach the hall. It’s empty, but guards wait at the foot of the stairs.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”
“Are you going to tell them?” He only responds with a nasty little grin that turns my stomach and brings tears to my eyes. I’ve never felt so completely alone and friendless in my entire life. I’m at the mercy of this maniac.
Then he flips a switch inside himself and turns into a doting father. I’m not sure which version of him scares me more. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he murmurs as we descend the stairs. “It’s time to get you married off.”
I force a smile, but it’s weak and teary. Well, don’t brides sometimes cry?
He walks me through the house and out through the side door to the yard. It’s simple, the setup, but strangely touching just the same. A single row of chairs sit at the end of a long, white runner, and at the far end stands an archway decorated with flowers.
On one side, where the bride’s family normally sits, there’s a dark-haired woman dressed and groomed beautifully, immaculate from head to toe. Is she supposed to be my mother? Something about the sight of her is enough to make me want to weep more than ever before. Both sides are pulling out all the stops to make this look legitimate. I wonder what my so-called father did to convince his wife to sit there like that and live out this lie.
Is Enzo going to have to talk me into something like this one day? Does she ever get to make her own choices? She won’t look at me, staring at her folded hands once she stands at the minister’s instruction.
On the other side, there’s a man dressed in black, who I vaguely recognize as one of Enzo’s grandfather’s guards. I remember him from that uncomfortable conversation in the kitchen, all of which he witnessed. He’s sitting directly in front of where good old Grandad is standing behind Enzo like he has to be close to his boss at all times.
We come to a stop at the end of the aisle, and the evil man at my side tucks my hand around his elbow. “Here we go. You’ll wish you had come clean with me by the time this is over.”
I wish the man would understand that I was already coming clean. What is it with these guys? Why do they find it impossible to listen to the truth? I guess it’s because the truth isn’t what they want to hear, not really. It doesn’t align with their purposes, so they want to ignore it like they can twist things however they want them.