Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, refusing to look at me. “I knew you were young, but I didn’t know you were that young.” His expression turned pained and he reached up to touch the covered bullet wound, hissing out, “Earlier, in the limo…”
Oh God, no.
My heart stuttered and my cheeks blazed as I forced out, “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Please don’t make me talk about that.
Ettore stood tall and even though I was sure it wasn’t meant to be intimidating, I suddenly regained use of my limbs and took a small step backwards. His expressive eyes bore in on me. “Much like you, I have been dreading this day. I woke this morning and took my crying children over to their nonno’s, telling them everything was going to be okay. That I was marrying was a nice woman.”
Trepidation pierced a hole in my solar plexus and my throat tightened to a point that I thought I might not be able to breathe ever again.
Why was he telling me this?
“I get to the church and I’m still not feeling right. Take my place, the organ starts and I can’t even turn to look. Dread cements me to the spot.” Unconsciously, I took a tiny step closer because I knew the feeling. “And then it’s time. I hate that we’re doing this. I’m angry and resentful. But then I turn,” he lowered his gaze and his voice turned quiet, “and see you.”
The way he said it… My arms lined with goosebumps.
Ettore lifted the bottle to pour himself another glass of whisky. “Beautiful, I think. God, she’s beautiful. A walking angel.”
No. No, no, no.
Shame threatened to smother me. One nice word from this beast of a man and warmth spread through me in a way that was insulting to my entire family.
Maybe Vincenza was right. Maybe I was weak.
Or maybe you felt something too.
He lifted the glass and studied its contents. “So small. You looked terrified and somehow, that makes some of the dread fade away. You pull away from my touch and I find that shit utterly adorable. The whole ceremony I think to myself, ‘you know what, this could work’. The veil is removed and I see your face. Shit. It all but knocked me on my ass. Beautiful seems too small a word to use when I look at you. I can’t even find a word to describe it. It’s overwhelming, the way I feel.”
My gut tensed and my mouth went dry. Regret made my head and heart throb alike.
Why was he doing this? Surely, he knew I was torturing myself enough already.
My knees almost buckled when he licked his lips. “And when it comes time to say ‘I do’, I say it and I mean it.”
Stop.
Stop it.
I know where this is going. I know where this story ends, and I don’t want it recounted.
“Ettore…”
But he ignored my plea. “And then it’s her turn. I know she’s going to do the right thing. After all, I am a very important man. A man who made a promise to his children. This girl wasn’t gonna make a liar out of me.”
The guilt, the dishonor, the shame… it was too much.
How humiliating that my lips began to tremble and I felt the sting of unshed tears burn behind my eyes. “Ettore, please…”
“You know what happened next.” He tipped back his head and swallowed the whisky in one gulp, holding onto the glass. “You looked at me,” he muttered. “You looked me right in the eye when he took your shot.”
Fuck. He sounded so defeated. I don’t know why it mattered to me, but for some unknown reason, it did.
I could handle his wrath. His rage and fury. But this bitter disappointment was eating me up from the inside out.
He pointed at me then and mimed pulling the trigger. “Boom.” I turned my head to the side and shut my eyes tightly, distressed that he was making us relive the awful moment. “Target hit. Right in front of my children.” His face screwed up, he reared back and threw the glass at the wall closest him as hard as he could. It shattered and the sound had my shoulders jumping in fear. The echo of glass tinkling resonated throughout the space. When I opened my burning eyes again, his stance turned rigid, his face became red and the tendons in his neck bulged when he roared an irate, “Right in front of my fucking children!”
My body jolted in fright. I tried desperately to keep it together, but being yelled at was the last straw. I burst into tears. My breath hitched and I gasped out, “Please. I’m so sorry!”
I was. God help me, but I was. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.
I didn’t realize he’d cut himself until blood sluggishly dripped from his middle finger onto the tiled floor. Without feeling, he picked up a linen napkin and curled his injured hand around it as he explained roughly, “Those kids are good kids, and they have been through it. They already lost a mom. They did not need the trauma of seeing their pops almost die in front of them. And you…” He glowered at me then and it felt like a physical attack. Even more so when he snarled, “You heinous little bitch. You took more from me today than I even let anybody take from me. I was so enamored by you that I didn’t even see it coming, and I should have. You taught me a lesson today. Your toxic beauty is a weapon I will no longer be affected by.”