Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Karah, you’re twenty-two. You’ve lived in my house, under my roof, for a long, long time. I’ve been easy on you—don’t argue, we both know it’s true. But it can’t go on forever. Jasha Novalov is a good man, and his family is strong—”
“Papa, he’s Russian? You’re selling me off to some strange Russian? You couldn’t have picked someone Italian?” Panic rises in my chest. “I don’t want to go. You can’t force me to marry someone against my will.” I jump out of the chair and back away.
“Karah.” His voice is hard, sharper than the slate rock that dots the desert landscape. He stands and glares at me, my big, strong Papa. He’s gone gentler in his old age, but he’ll always be a massive mountain of a man, covered in thick dark hair and muscle, and with an undercurrent of vicious, deadly violence rippling below every move he makes. My name is like a rumble in his chest, like an earthquake. “You will do as you are told. You can’t be a child forever, girl.”
“What if I find someone else to marry?” It’s desperate, I know, but the thought of going off to some faraway place to marry a total stranger is more terrifying than anything I can imagine. I like my life, I like my home, my brothers, my little desert world. I like it here, and I don’t want to give it up for anything.
“There’s nobody else. You know as well as I do—”
“Someone in the Famiglia.” Desperate, so desperate. Papa can see right through me.
His lips quirk. “I thought we’re all a bunch of filthy gangsters.”
“You are, but I’d rather marry someone I know than a stranger. Please, Papa. You want to marry me off? Let me choose.”
“Karah—”
“I’ll choose soon. I swear it. Give me a week, and I’ll pick someone from the Famiglia. Someone good. Someone you’ll be happy with.”
This is absurd. I know it’s crazy. The whole point of marrying me off is to make an alliance with another mafia family. Letting me pick my future husband from among our business won’t strengthen anything at all.
But I’m so desperate, I’m willing to try anything at this point.
“You know I can’t,” he says quietly, shaking his head.
“Please, Papa.” I take a step closer. I feel a stone in my throat the size of a softball and I think I might throw up. “I’m asking for a favor. One final favor, and after this I’ll never ask anything from you again. I know you’ve been soft on me, and I’m begging you to give me this one final chance.”
He closes his eyes. “Karah. It doesn’t work like that.”
“Please, Papa.”
He sighs and rubs his face. For one long, silent moment, I picture my life somewhere far away, tethered to a strange man I barely know, rotting in a family that doesn’t love me and views me as little more than expedient currency. It’s a nightmare, one I’ve always known might be my fate, and now that it’s here, all I can think about is escape.
“One week,” he finally says and releases a long breath. “If you can find someone suitable in a week, I’ll change my plans with the Novalov family. It may cost me dearly, but I love you, Karah.”
“Papa, thank you.” I rush to him as tears stream down my cheeks. I hug him tight, my massive bear-like Papa. He hugs me back tightly.
“I am too soft on you, girl,” he says quietly. “I’ve been too weak with you, but that’ll change from now on. Do you understand me?”
“I understand.”
He pulls me away and looks into my eyes. “You’ll grow up after this. No matter what happens, whether you marry the Russian or find someone suitable, you will grow up.”
“Yes, Papa. I promise.”
“Then you have a week. I hope you have someone in mind.”
I only smile and extract myself from his big mitt-sized hands. “You know me, boy crazy.”
He laughs and sits back down in his chair, already absorbed in his work.
I leave his study and stand in the relative cool of the hallway, tucked back into the shadows of the doorway. The house is still and quiet, only the sound of the staff in the kitchen preparing dinner echoes up from the kitchens.
I don’t fully understand why Papa gave in so easily—why he’s giving me this opportunity or why he’s always been so gentle with me. The others all notice and complain about it, especially Casso. Nico even teases me ruthlessly every time Papa bends his rules ever so slightly to make my life just a little bit easier. Everyone knows Papa has a soft spot for me, and I’ve never questioned it before, at least until today.
Now I have to wonder—why would he do this?
Why risk angering a potential ally and a rival family?