Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Then why did you marry him? Couldn’t you have told your parents, no?”
“Mia bambina.” She brushed my hair back softly and smiled down at me like she usually did when I asked silly questions. “At that time, no. Grandpapa needed me to marry your father for the company, and so I did. It was my duty. An honor to do something for our family. Family means everything.”
My little brow scrunched in confusion. “What if I hate who Papa chooses for me to marry?”
“He will choose a good man for you to marry. I didn’t love your father—he didn’t love me much either.” She laughed. “But it took time. It took work. Any marriage does. And your father is a good man who worked for my love.”
She closed her eyes with a dreamy smile, and I remembered earlier in the night, hearing her giggles before coming into the kitchen to find Papa twirling her in his arms to the music playing on the stereo.
“I hope I fall in love with a boy like Aladdin, and Papa will be happy. I want a Prince Charming like all the princesses,” I said with a giddy excitement only a girl could have.
“Mia bambina.” She laughed again, stroking my cheek again. “If you wait for the perfect fairy tale, you will never find happiness. Sometimes Prince Charming is everything you need when you didn’t know you needed it.”
I’d had so many reminders over the years that an arranged marriage could work. My parents had been happy and in love, just like my grandparents.
I may not love Camden now, but my father wouldn’t pick a bad man for me to marry. I had to have confidence in my mother’s conviction behind those words.
I really had to have conviction behind those words when thirty minutes into dinner already had me wanting to run toward the door.
“Maybe you can wear a fitted wedding dress, too. Looks good on you,” he said, his eyes glued to my chest. “You don’t have many curves, but that tight dress really shows off what you do have. Maybe something a little more revealing up top.”
My fists clenched under the table as he gestured toward my boobs with his hand holding his scotch, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the edge.
With a clenched jaw, I forced a smile and the words, “I’ll take it into consideration.” I cleared my throat and opened and closed my fingers, trying to relax, and moved on to a safer topic. “How’s work going? Are you fitting in at Mariano Shipping okay? I know father runs a tight ship.”
Camden barked an embarrassingly loud laugh that had me flicking my eyes left and right to take in how much attention he drew. A familiar face had every muscle in my body tightening in dread. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I quickly looked away, letting my hair fall like a curtain to hide behind. Maybe he wouldn’t know it was me.
But when I brushed my hair aside and snuck a glance back in his direction, the dark eyes of Nicholas Rush met mine. They flicked toward Camden and quickly back to me before narrowing to judgmental slits. His tight lips curled in a disgusted snarl. But even beyond his obvious distaste of me and the situation—even beyond the space between us—I could feel the heat in his eyes stroke across my skin as if I sat completely bare.
I focused back on Camden and tried to shove down the heat flooding my veins.
“So, I take it work is going well?” I asked after clearing my throat.
Camden’s blond hair fell from its perfect swoop when he tipped his head to the side and smiled like he saw a puppy he thought was adorable. “Of course, it is. But don’t you worry your pretty little head about work. I’m good at everything I do, and your father and Mariano Shipping are no match for my talent.” By some miracle, I held back my eye roll when he winked. “And Verana, I do mean I’m good at everything.”
Ew.
His smile grew, and I realized he took my shocked silence as awe rather than speechless disgust. As if in slow motion, his hand moved across the table, and I jerked my own into my lap, knocking my fork off my plate. The chime of it hitting the china sounded like the warning bell clanging in my head to get the fuck away from that table.
I pulled my lips back into a smile I was sure looked more like a grimace, but it wasn’t getting any better than that. “Excuse me,” I said, scooting my chair back. “I need to use the restroom.”
It took everything I had to continue to the back and not bolt for the doors and the freedom I desperately wanted from this night. Hiding away in the stall, I took several deep breaths, wondering how long it was acceptable to hide in the restroom before it started to look like I had stomach issues.