Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
3
LENORA
“There will be another one of these tomorrow,” my father said, tapping the tip of my nose.
I hated these parties, though party wasn’t the word I’d use to describe this, since there was no dance music and the lights weren’t dim enough even if there were. I never liked parties in the past, but they were far worse when centered around me. I’d never minded having people look at me. Watching my mother taught me to hold my head high in every room. I did it at boarding school, where everyone thought they were better than the next. They hadn’t yet figured out that none of it mattered in the end. Then again, my father hadn’t figured it out either, and he was much older and more experienced than the kids at boarding school. He’d been born a king and would die a king. No one ever questioned my father. Not his motives, not his actions, not his words.
“Why so many parties?” I asked. “It seems like overkill.”
“Well.” Dad moved his head from side to side, as he did when he was about to explain something he knew I wouldn’t like. “It’s like a kid’s first birthday party. Is it for the kid or just an excuse for adults to get together?”
“So this is just an excuse for you to get every single person on the FBI’s Most Wanted in one room?” I asked.
“Careful.” He shot me a look. His eyes looked so much like my brothers’ when he did that. It was the look most people feared, but I never cowered under that stare. It was a privilege very few had. “We’re businessmen.”
“Right.” I snorted.
He smiled a little. “Your mother couldn’t be here for this one, so we’ll have another. You don’t want your mother to miss out on all of this, do you?”
I sighed heavily. I had a million comebacks for that, but I didn’t want to use them. Mom was visiting my ailing grandmother, and I was sure this was the last place she wanted to be. She didn’t agree with this wedding either. The only ones who were okay with it were Papa and Adriano. They'd be the sole parties reaping the benefits from the shady business deal they had going.
“Maybe we should delay the wedding because of Grandma?” I said quickly.
“No.” He took his phone out of his pocket. “So you know, I’m taking a quick trip to the farm in the morning. I’ll be back in time for the party.”
My heart stopped beating. “I thought you were going back to Palermo for business?”
“After the party.” He took out his phone and checked his messages, scoffing at whatever he saw on the screen.
I looked, unable to help myself, and saw a half-dressed woman blowing a kiss at the camera. My face burned in shame, and I glanced away quickly, pretending not to have seen it. It was what Mom always did. It was what I’d have to do with Adriano. My mother had given me countless talks about marriage over the years, preparing me for what was to come. I’d only half-listened since their marriage was not the example I wanted to set for myself. It was the only one I’d ever known until Dominic married Rosie, which made me realize I wanted what they had. I knew I wouldn’t get it, though. Not in this lifetime, which was why I was resorting to begging, and if that didn’t work, I’d make sure these next two weeks would be the best of my life.
“What if we just wait another year?” I pleaded, setting a hand on his arm. He turned to me, eyes softening as much as they ever did, which wasn’t much. “Please, Papa. Just one year. Let me have one year.”
“Lenora. We talked about this.”
“Six months then.”
“No.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “You’re always talking about how hard I work, how many sacrifices I make. This is your sacrifice. This is your job.”
“You sent me to an incredible university to study business administration, yet you want me to call this my job.” I shook my head. “I don’t understand how marrying Adriano will help anyone.”
“I’ve told you this.”
“Tell me again,” I said quietly, my voice breaking.
“He’s a duca. Tu saresti una duchessa,” he said, smiling as he pinched my chin.
“Italia has no nobility, Papa.”
“Lenora.” He dropped his hand and shot me an impatient look.
“Papa.” I mimicked him and crossed my arms.
His eyes lit up with amusement. “This marriage is not surprising news, Lenora. You’ve known about this your entire life. You’ve never complained before.”
“Because it wasn’t a reality before. It was like letting me wear an astronaut suit around the house and telling me that someday I’d go to the moon.”
“Hm.” His lips twisted. I stopped breathing, thinking I had him agreeing for a moment, until he said, “Well, they own Milano, and I want it, so this is what we need to do to get it.”