Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Strands are ripped from my skull as I’m pulled back, then thunder cracks through the air as Damiano snaps, “Enough!”
Stefano shoves me into the bedroom, then I hear him say, “I apologize for disturbing you, cousin. I’m dealing with the problem.”
“The problem can wait,” Damiano mutters. “Everyone back in the living room. Now!”
My entire body is trembling, but somehow, I manage to adjust my dress around my thighs and pat my hair into a neat style. My scalp stings from where I lost a chunk of hair.
After composing myself as best I can, I walk right by Stefano and follow Damiano to the living room. I struggle to keep my eyes from darting over the black fabric of Damiano’s dress shirt that stretches tightly over his muscled back.
Entering the living room, I find safety behind an armchair, and in less than a minute, my family and Stefano stare at Damiano with bated breaths.
“I’ve made my decision,” the Capo dei Capi mutters.
My breath stalls in my throat, and my heart sinks.
“Do you give your blessing, cousin?” Stefano asks.
Damiano’s eyes lock with mine, and once again, they narrow as he stares at me.
I lift my chin and clench my jaw as I hold the gaze of the man who’s killed people for the mere pleasure of feeling their blood seep through his fingers – the man who is about to condemn me to a life of hell.
His lips part, and a second later, a single word breaks the tense silence.
“No.”
“What?” Mother gasps.
“Cousin?” Stefano says, the word filled with confusion.
“Mr. Falco?” I hear my father ask.
He said no.
Air bursts from my lungs, and the relief is so intense I have to place my hand over my heart to keep it from beating out of my chest.
I won’t be forced to marry Stefano.
He won’t get to take my virginity.
My eyes drift shut from the overwhelming happiness coursing through my body, making me feel faint.
When I hear movement, my eyes snap open, and I watch as Damiano pours himself a drink.
I almost thank him for not giving his blessing, but something tells me to keep quiet.
Damiano glances at his guard. “Get the men to pack Gabriella’s belongings. We’re leaving.”
“On it,” the guard answers before he stalks away to carry out the order.
What?
Mother gasps, and my father’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.
Stefano is the first to recover, and shaking his head, he dares to ask, “What are you doing?”
Damiano downs the bourbon before shoving the glass into Stefano’s hand. Without a single word of explanation, he walks out of the living room.
Everyone stands frozen for a moment before life returns with one hell of a bang.
Mother rushes to me, a smile spreading over her face. “I can’t believe the Capo dei Capi has taken an interest in you.”
What?
It’s the only question that keeps playing on an endless loop in my frazzled mind.
“Holy shit,” Santo breathes, shaking his head in disbelief.
Looking confused, my father asks, “Mr. Falco is taking Gabriella?”
“Damiano!” Stefano shouts, going after his cousin. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Mother once again grabs my wrist, and I’m dragged out of the living room. As we rush through the foyer and up the stairs, I hear Damiano’s voice rumble like fire and brimstone as he says, “I’m taking the woman. It’s not open for discussion. Find someone else to marry.”
Holy crap.
Damiano is a million times worse than Stefano. There’s no telling what he’ll do to me.
Before I can hear more of the conversation between Damiano and Stefano, I’m pulled into my bedroom, and seconds later, five men come into my private space and roughly start throwing my belongings into bags.
I can’t think a single coherent thought as Mother thrusts an outfit into my hands before shoving me into the bathroom.
“Get changed. Hurry,” she orders before yanking the door shut.
I hear my bedroom being torn apart while I stare at the doorknob.
This isn’t happening.
“Hurry, Gabriella, or I’ll come in and dress you myself,” Mother threatens.
In a stunned daze, I start to undress and quickly put on the light pink pantsuit. The pants are three-quarter in length and look good with the black five-inch heels.
Mother forgot to grab a blouse, but I shrug on the jacket and fasten the two buttons. A sliver of black lace from my bra is visible.
Taking a moment for myself, I wash my hands and pull a brush through my hair before I open the cupboards to dig out toiletry bags. I quickly pack my perfume, toiletries, and bath and skincare products.
I can’t believe I’m leaving with Damiano Falco. I have no idea what it means for my future, and it terrifies the hell out of me.
But I hurry because I don’t dare keep the man waiting.
If I take too long, he might just kill me for wasting his time.