Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
I guess if everyone fears Vitaly, then he’s no knight in shining armor. He’s not going to welcome me with open arms. In fact, he could end up using me. I’m not sure what value I am to my father, but he’s set on marrying me to Eduardo.
“Okay,” Nolia sighs from the front seat, and I feel the car roll to a stop.
Slowly, I sit up and peek out the window. I’d ask where we are, but it’s not like I would really know if she told me. Usually when I’d come to the city, it was with a driver and a bodyguard.
“Where am I going?” I ask, and Nolia points to a building with two valets lingering outside.
It takes me a second, but I realize it’s a restaurant. A fancy one at that. I’m in sneakers, yoga pants, and a black hoodie. I was prepared to hide and sneak around, not meet a dress code.
“He’s in there. His table is always in the back corner.”
“How do you know?”
“He owns the place. He comes every Sunday night.”
“Good point.”
Nolia doesn’t live most days trapped away. She’s probably seen him here before.
“Right.” I reach for the door handle, but Nolia turns, grabbing me. She wraps me in a tight hug.
“I love you.”
“Ah, man,” I sniffle. Nolia is the first person to ever say those words to me. In her family, those words come easily. “You’re trying to make me cry.”
“You cry about everything.” She gives me a watery laugh, which pierces my heart. Nolia never cries.
“I love you too.”
I give her one last look before I slip from the car. As I head toward the restaurant, I put my shoulders back and hold my head high. The two valets give me a sideways look, but I pass between them into the restaurant.
It smells like fresh bread and marinara. If I didn’t think I might vomit, I’d want something for myself.
“Excuse me.” The tall, attractive hostess turns her nose up, I’m sure, at my choice of clothing.
“You’re excused,” I chirp and walk right past her.
The second I do, I catch sight of Vitaly. His head lifts, as if he senses my attention, but I don’t stop walking. My heart pounds harder with each step I take toward him, but it’s too late to stop.
I don’t miss the beautiful woman in the red dress sitting across from him. Well, crap. Is everyone gorgeous around here? I was told he was single. Nolia is pretty good with her gossip and said he was never with anyone. I hate to be that girl, but I don’t really have much of a choice at the moment. When I’m standing in front of his table, the woman turns, giving me a curious expression.
“Don’t,” Vitaly orders.
I’m not sure if he's talking to me until I follow the motion of his hand. Two men in all black suits are on either side of me and about to grab me. Oh god. I jump a little, knocking into the table and causing everything to shake. The woman grabs her wine glass before it can fall over.
I lift my inhaler to my mouth and take a breath. The woman in red smirks, amusement lighting her eyes. She looks more curious than upset. She seems nice, and at least she’s not turning her nose up at me. But I don't think she's going to like me after she hears what I have to say.
“Is there something you need?” Vitaly's deep voice rolls over me. Jesus, even his voice is sexy.
“Yes,” I say, taking another hit off my inhaler. This time I’m stalling more than anything.
Okay, Pru, you can do this.
“I don’t like to wait,” he says, his voice sharp.
“Right.” I shove my inhaler into the front of my hoodie. “Vitaly Parlov, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”
I’m pretty sure the whole restaurant goes silent at my question.
Why did I say it that way? That was so not how we practiced it.
Chapter Two
VITALY
Before me stands a girl I recognize. Only she’s not a girl any longer.
The last time I saw Prudence Benecci, she was at her mother’s funeral. She would have only been about six or seven, but I’d never forget those eyes. They are the same ice blue as her father’s. My rival Renzo Benecci. She’s the daughter to one of the most notorious crime bosses of this century and his only heir.
Her ink-black hair is parted down the middle and pulled back in a tight bun. Her eyes are piercing as she watches me, waiting for an answer.
Marry her?
My eyes move slowly up and down her body, and I don’t try to hide my perusal. Her fingers fidget at her sides as I take in every inch of her. The hoodie she’s got on is baggy, but her leggings are tight. I can see the way they cling to her curves, and it shows off the woman she’s become.