Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Frannie: SIRI TEXT MOB GIRLIES THAT’S NOT FUNNY BITCHES.
Sofie: Can we get some quiet plzzzz I’m SLEUTHING.
Gia: Let the girl work!!!!! COOK SOFIE.
I’m grinning to myself and typing rapidly on my phone. Luca slinks away, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, and I collapse onto my bed.
He’s right. Lev really doesn’t have much by way of an online footprint. I’m usually pretty decent at stalking people, but I’m coming up with mostly nothing.
Except a few small clues. First, his family owns a jewelry store in the diamond district, and it’s supposed to be very successful. Huge, even. And second, he grew up in the city and went to a private school near here. His name shows up in an article from years back about their high school wrestling team. Apparently, he was pretty good, but based on the year this thing came out, I’m thinking he’s at least in his late twenties, around fiveish years older than me.
Sofie: Carmie baby, bad news. Your future husband is a ghost.
Gia: GASP!
Carmie: What’s that even mean?
Sofie: I’m digging around and there’s NOTHING. Just the stuff I bet you found already. Fed Jeweler, went to Holy Ghost, whatever. But past that? Total blank.
Gia: DOUBLE GASP!
Gia: Should I ask around? Check with the bros??
Carmie: No, it’s okay, I’m meeting him soon.
Gia: TRIPLE GASP!
Carmie: Gia’s got asthma again.
Sofie: I’ll keep on sleuthing but idk maybe just see the guy in person and check his vibes.
Frannie: SIRI TEXT MOB GIRLIES I BET HE’S GOT HUGE VIBES. HA HA
Gia: Frannie-panties just said “ha ha” out loud to Siri.
Carmie: I’m not in love with a blind first meeting but I guess if there’s no other way…
Sofie: Sorry babes. No pics that I can find. The guy’s either a recluse or his family’s got some seriously talented hackers on the books. Knowing his business…
Knowing his business, he killed the last ten men that took pictures of him, just to keep any evidence of his existence off the web.
Still, it’s weird and a little much, even for a mafia guy. Men in crime families need to have lives, and the world works through the internet more and more these days. I find it amazing that my future husband is probably one of the last humans in existence without some form of social media, especially someone under the age of sixty.
I get up and walk over to my mother’s dress again. The fabric’s soft under my fingertips, and I wonder what she felt like wearing it on her wedding day. Was she excited to marry my father? From everything I’ve heard from my brothers and people in my family, my parents were legitimately in love.
Was she nervous? Did she rehearse what she’d say for hours in front of the mirror? It’s strange, trying to imagine my mother as a young woman. I’m about to get married just like she did, but I couldn’t feel any further away from her than I am right now. She married for love; I’m marrying for business. I wonder if she would’ve been okay with this arrangement.
Not that it matters. I had my moment of indiscretion. I got to live my life for one single night, and it was one hell of a night. I smile to myself, thinking about Step and the way that beast touched me, the way he throbbed between my legs and whispered filthy things in my ear. I’ve been holding on to that memory since it happened, keeping it close to my chest like a precious jewel, afraid that if I tell even the Mob Girlies, that’ll somehow taint what happened.
That night is mine. It was good, and I was free, and it’s mine. No matter what happens after here, my future husband won’t have any of that. I’ll have given a piece of myself away to a total stranger, but I’ll have done it on my terms.
Good little Carmie isn’t so good anymore.
I turn back to my phone, not expecting anything, but another text comes through.
Frannie: Okay I’m home and I gotta say I’m deeply deeply disappointed in you ladies.
Frannie: It took me all of thirty seconds to find a picture of our man.
Carmie: WHAT?
Sofie: HOW?
Gia: She’s lying. Frannie-panties got taken over by Siri. She’s been body snatched!
Frannie: You’re all so terminally lame.
Frannie: Behold, your future hubster.
A blurry photo comes through. It’s a yearbook headshot of a handsome young man. I stare and a cold, impossible horror settles over my skin.
He looks familiar.
Young and a little softer, but I know those eyebrows. I know that jaw. I can feel the stubble against my cheek. I know the weight of his fingers gripping my hips. I smell his musty, spicy scent. That charming smile’s been stuck in my head like a brand on my skin.
Carmie: Where did you get this?
Frannie: My brother went to Holy Ghost and graduated that year. I just flipped through until I found the right name. NOT HARD.