Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
"Tears have to be earned, Sarica."
I wonder if Maryse realizes how her face absolutely changes when she's using that tone. It's fascinating, albeit in a terrifying way, like seeing human skin harden into stone.
"So don't waste them on situations where only your lack of knowledge and experience are completely to blame."
I think she's just called me 'stupid' and 'wet behind the ears' in one breath, but...whatever.
"He's thirty-four, and you're still days away from turning eighteen. More importantly, this is Giancarlo Marchetti we're talking about. Our so-called prince among thieves. Why do you think he's so careful not to be alone with you?"
The moment she spells it out like that, the answer hits me, clear as day.
Well, fuck.
My face contorts in a grimace of self-disgust, and Maryse laughs.
The Angel of Death is no more, and in front of me is just a twenty-something girl who used to kill bad people...until she stood in front of a thirty-something guy, and they fell in love and started having babies happily ever after.
And fine, a lot of blood was spilled between their meet-cute and epilogue, but who cares? What matters is that life outside our world has only made Maryse wiser, and that's why I know...
She's absolutely right.
I'm just as stupid and inexperienced as she says since not once have I tried to put myself in his shoes.
Because if I had...
Then I would've done exactly the same fucking thing.
If I were him, I'd also stay as far away from me as possible.
Because that's how it should be when you're older and the other person is underage.
You stay away until it's legal and ethical.
Otherwise, you're bound for a special place in Hell, and it's reserved for men who "groom" teenage girls...even if they also happen to be the future groom of said teenage girl.
Four Years Ago
Change
SEX IS A MAN'S LOVE language.
I'm tempted to throw my iPhone away the moment I finish reading the article.
Bull.
Shit.
I don't care how many degrees the author of this online article has.
All I know is that this guy can't be absolutely right.
Because if he is...then I'm absolutely fucked.
So, no.
Everything he's written here has to be pure b.s., and only an idiot—-
Cattleya suddenly enters the Marchettis' second-floor library, and her eyes have already widened by the time I remember to flip my phone face down.
"Wow."
"It's not what you think." I feel like I've been saying this more and more recently, and that's not good at all. It makes me sound like a liar, which I'm not. Honest!
Cattleya slips back into her seat across mine. Both of us are unofficial wards of the Marchettis, but that's the only similarity we have between us. Cat's parents were good people...and they were also murdered because they were good. My father obviously isn't in the same category, and I guess that's why he's still alive.
"So..." Cat looks at me with a rueful smile. "The new girls working in the kitchen have been talking about Giancarlo nonstop."
And Cat being Cat, of course, she'd know about this. There's just something about the other girl that makes her, well...cat-like. She has this amazing ability to slip in and out of a room without anyone knowing. Moreover, people also often say things in her presence that they normally wouldn't say out loud because they don't even realize—-
"So I understand why you're bothered and jealous," Cat finishes.
—-she's completely out of her mind, for thinking I'm what?
Bothered?
And jealous?
HA.
My life would be a lot simpler if that were true.
But even if it's not—-
"What exactly have the new girls been saying?" I ask curiously.
"Nothing unusual, really," she answers with a shrug. "Every time we have new staff coming in, they always end up comparing one Marchetti brother to another for some reason—-"
A question flashes in my mind, and I grin at her mischievously. "Pop quiz! Who's your favorite Marchetti and why? You have five seconds to answer. Five, fo—-"
"No comment."
I stare at her in amazement. "Wow. You actually have a favorite?"
"How does having no comment mean I have a favorite?"
Even though both Cat's expression and tone are perfectly bland, I'm not fooled at all. "You definitely have a favorite." She's just too nice to admit it out loud, being the nice person that she is. "The only question is who—-"
The other girl interrupts me, asking, "Do you still want to know what the new girls have to say about Giancarlo or not?"
Even though I know what she's trying to do here, my EQ where Giancarlo's concerned has become worryingly low of late, and I'm successfully distracted.
"What did they say about him?"
"One of the new girls calls herself Giancarlo's #1 fan."
Yup, I'm just distracted, but not jealous.
Honest.
"And here's the interesting thing I overheard her share," Cat goes on. "She says she's been looking for years—-"
I let out a gasp. "This is about the Ruiz case, isn't it?" The Marchettis are a popular subject amongst true-crime fanatics, and I've lost count of how many wannabe podcasters have spouted baseless conspiracy theories in their desire to link Boston's ruling famiglia to the disappearance of Justina Ruiz. "She's looking for evidence—-"