Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Depends,” I say to her. “Nearly everything that you're allowed or disallowed will depend on your behavior.” It’s the truth. "If you follow my rules and expectations, you'll have free rein of the house we’ll live in together. You'll have access to the internet and your cell phone. You will go nowhere without a large guard on you, a minimum of three men on property and six off and none of those bullshit clowns your brother hired.” Her shoulders tense, lips thinning. My Italian princess doesn’t like it when I criticize her brother. “You’ll be allowed to socialize and to shop, and in some cases, I'll even expect you to. You’ll attend any function with me at my request, and during holidays and when I travel, you'll be my companion."
She has a very specific role to fill, and I'll train her immediately in the ways I expect. It doesn’t have to be all rules and drudgery.
"How I behave…" she says, as if mulling this all over. “So I’m your companion. Your little trophy wife. What exactly does that mean?"
Ah, now we're getting somewhere.
“We’ll discuss all of this after you take your vows to me."
"After?" she says. "That makes no sense. Why wouldn't you discuss any of this before we take the vows?”
I choose my words carefully and hold her gaze when I speak to her. “I’m tired and I have work to do, and what I expect of you won’t impact whether or not you take your vows.”
She cannot escape from this, we both know that. But I won't have her defiance and anger at the altar. We’ll make this as cut-and-dried as possible.
Time to test the spoiled little girl’s temperament. Let’s see if her training is as lacking as I suspect.
"Hand me your phone." I put my palm out to her.
She eyes it angrily, and a few beats pass before she complies. I wonder if she'll defy me already, or force my hand. If she’s been raised by the Rossis, she’ll know what’s expected of her. She’ll know her place. I’m confident I’ll have to teach her a lesson or two, but time will tell if she’s a quick study.
"Do you live with any of your siblings?" The question takes me off guard, but considering where she came from, I suppose it’s no surprise.
I shake my head. “I have two sisters, and don't get along with them. Both sisters are married, and I haven’t seen either of them since their weddings.”
Her eyes widen at that. "They were never allowed to come back? How could you exile them like that?”
I move closer to her and shake my head. “Lesson one, Marialena. Never make assumptions. Yes, they would've been welcomed back with open arms to visit. They had no interest."
My sisters rejoiced when they were able to leave the house. One married into another Italian family, another to an American family on the West Coast. I don't know if they're happy.
Happiness is overrated.
"No interest? Is your family that cruel?"
She has no idea.
“I guess you'll see for yourself soon enough."
It surprises me that people like the Rossis are as close as they appear to be. It's definitely not something you see very often in our line of work. I wonder if that's served them well, though. With a close-knit family like theirs, forming allegiances to anyone else can be detrimental. I'll have to force mine.
Winning her over is going to be a long, hard battle, but a woman won the right way is worth her weight in gold.
But we’re nowhere near ready for that.
I need to know more about who she is before I know what my plan of attack will be. "Do you live anywhere besides The Castle?"
"Apparently now in Tampa," she says with a mirthless laugh. "And yes, I know that's not what you mean, but it's the truth. I've lived in Tuscany with my family, but other than that only at The Castle. It's the only home I've ever really, truly known.”
I don't miss the way she swipes away tears on her cheeks, or the way her voice shakes. It doesn’t bother me. But I note it, just the same.
She turns and looks out the window. We’re only minutes away from the airport at this juncture.
“When do we get married?”
“Tomorrow night.”
I watch her shoulders stiffen in my peripheral vision while I check my email on my phone. I hit Call to my cousin Cristiano.
“You don’t waste time, do you?” she asks.
I shake my head just before he answers. “Never.”
“Hey, cuz.” He always sounds more friendly than he is, like a smiling viper. “Rumors I’m hearing true?”
“Tell me what they are, and I’ll tell you if they’re true.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” He chuckles to himself. “I heard you scored a pretty Italian princess from the Rossi family.”
“You heard right.”