Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Sighing, I reach for my brush that sits on the dresser. I know that Bryant will want my hair long and shiny. He doesn’t like it pulled up, and all but demands I always show its length in however I style it. The first thing I will do when I leave this house will be to cut my hair. My mother had also loved my hair long. Funny that the two of them agree on that.
Being here has done one other thing for me. It’s confused me more on how my mother and Bryant Morelli ever ended up together. My mother does not belong in this world, and never will. Bryant is cold and unloving. I don’t see an ounce of charm in him, and I can’t imagine what my mother saw in him other than a quick payday. I think Bryant must have just been another hustle for her, but since she was poor my entire life, I can now assume that the hustle went bad. Which makes sense. It’s clear that Bryant is not a man you can hustle.
Brushing my hair, I hear a knock at the door. One of the guards enters before I can even give permission, but that is always the way and has ceased to surprise me one bit. I have no privacy. I am not a guest here, and whenever I even dared act like I deserve respect, Bryant would knock me down into submission again.
Know your place, he would shout. Know your fucking place.
Yes, I will… for now.
And I know my place here… but with Nick? I have no idea. I haven’t heard from him since Wonderland, not that I can. I’m under complete lockdown and any sight of Nick would get him shot. Bryant has made it very clear that Nick is not welcome on the property. I also don’t have a phone. I don’t have anything… including freedom. I don’t know what Nick’s thinking… Did I offend him by leaving Wonderland when he all but offered to save me? Is the story between Nick and Lyriope finally over?
“Mr. Morelli would like your hair down, red dress, black heels, and red lips,” the guard says.
Looking into the mirror, it is all I can do not to point to the red dress on the hanger and roll my eyes. I can see the guard gets pleasure in dictating my father’s command. They all do. Each one of his men get so much gratification from doing exactly what the man says. It is like he is some sort of god, and they all are his devout followers.
“I know. Thank you.” I continue to run the brush through my hair, trying my best to pay no attention to the guard in hopes that he will simply go away.
“Mr. Morelli will be here in fifteen minutes to escort you to the restaurant. He does not wish to wait.”
I nod. “I will be ready. Thank you.”
Luckily, the guard leaves without saying anything further. A sick chuckle from the damn minion would have caused me to completely snap and beat the man to a bloody pulp. The days that have passed since Wonderland have been brutal. I’m sad, I’m irritable, and I can’t stand Pavel. The reality of what my future is going to look like is setting in. I’m slowly having to face it, and the idea of a future without Nick in it is gut-wrenching.
Every night I keep expecting him to show up in my room. I wait for him to climb in through my window and demand I pay with my body for not choosing him. For not running away with him and being his… his… I have no idea what he truly wants in all this other than he claimed he wanted me.
He’s the only one in my life who has ever claimed to want me. Me. And what do I do? I let him go. I turned him away when all he wanted to do was—save me.
Nick very well may have moved on. And I can’t say that I blame him. I wouldn’t want to continue some twisted courtship with a woman promised to marry a pretty boy weasel.
Removing my robe, I put on the dress from hell. It is two sizes too small for me, which is just how dear ol’ Dad likes it. Squeezing myself into the lycra-type material, forces my breasts inward and upward giving me cleavage that will have every man staring down, rather than in my eyes all night. Groaning as I slip my feet into the five-inch heels, I make another mental note that I will never wear high heels again for as long as I live. I think that Bryant is worried the Sidorovs are going to change their mind and not want me, leaving me to live with Bryant. His obsessive need to practically whore me out makes it very obvious that he wants me out, out, out.