Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 107265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
A whole future ahead of her.
Pity.
2
Viviana
* * *
Only one more week left until graduation. I can’t believe the day is almost here.
Once it comes, I’ll finally be able to distance myself.
I’ll find a job.
I will get out from under my father’s thumb.
I just need to make it through one more week.
Not true.
A job. Paying my bills.
A heavy feeling weighs on my chest. I’ll never be able to escape him.
My father will use me as his pawn as he always does. Once I leave school, he’ll keep me in line by making me work for him.
And I have no choice. . .
Maybe one day.
The door to my apartment swings open. I don’t need to look up from my computer to know who it is.
It’s obviously Julia.
She’s the only person—well, besides my parents—who has a key.
“Hey, babe.” I hear her say as the sound of her feet on the floor echoes through the space as she approaches me on the couch.
“Hi.” I lift my gaze from the screen. “Didn’t think you’d be here so early.”
“Umm, you should have expected me earlier.” She rolls her eyes, making me laugh. “We’re going out, remember? It’s pre-gaming time.”
“Pre-gaming. Really, Jules, what am I, still in college?”
“For another week, you are. Don’t rush me. You’re not ready for the real world. I hear there are work and taxes and all kinds of bullshit out there. Please tell me you’re still coming with me tonight and you didn’t forget.” She groans loudly, being her completely overdramatic self.
I stare at her for a moment. When she laughs, she reminds me so much of her mother. They have the same light brown hair and blue eyes, but it’s the way she smiles. It’s the same smile Ana had when she would play with us. When she would move the figurines around the old dollhouse with me.
My heart clenches.
“Viv, where did you go? You’re off in la-la land.” Jules snaps her fingers, pulling me from my memories.
What was she saying? Oh yeah, going out tonight.
“How could I forget? You reminded me every day this week.” I pretend to sulk, but really, I love her.
“Well, we have to celebrate you graduating.”
“I haven’t graduated yet.”
“Semantics.”
I roll my eyes at my friend.
But she is right. Although, technically, I haven’t gotten my diploma yet, I am officially done with school.
This is my last weekend living here, and next week, I will have to tell my father I wasn’t going to be part of his plan for the future.
My father has considered me a bargaining chip for the longest time. I’ve been able to put him off for years by going to college, but my father comes from a traditional Sicilian family. In his mind, I should already be married.
Married to a man he’s picked for me.
It’s just a matter of time before the shoe drops, and he dictates my life.
As crazy as it sounds, I’m expecting a call about my impending doom at any minute.
For some time now, I’ve known that my father will try to marry me off to whoever he thinks will benefit him.
A future I want no part of.
“When do you go back home?” Julia asks as she walks to the kitchen attached to my living room and swings open the fridge. A minute later, Diet Coke in hand, she sits on the couch adjacent from me.
“Hopefully never,” I mumble under my breath.
“Yeah, because Daddy Marino will ever go for that.”
“A girl’s allowed to dream.” I let out a wistful sigh.
“That’s not a dream, honey. That’s a fantasy. Hell will freeze over before Marino will let you out of his sight. I’m surprised you haven’t been summoned before. Isn’t he champing at the bit to marry you off?”
“He is.” There’s a ball of anxiety in my voice, and it is growing impossibly large right now.
“And who is the lucky suitor?” She laughs. This has become a game. I go to dinner with my family, my father tries to arrange a marriage for me, and then I meet up with Julia and tell her all the gruesome details.
“Beats the fuck out of me. But I’m not looking forward to that fight. I need to think of a plan. Every time they do this, I’m afraid this will be the time they finally make me.”
“Do you have enough money saved to break free on your own?”
“No,” I admit. And that ball of anxiety? It gets bigger, making it harder to breathe.
“I wish I could help . . .”
I lean forward, placing my face in my palms. “I know, and I love you for it.”
And I do. Julia and I have been friends since we were kids. Her mother was my nanny, and she and her brother were raised on the estate with me. After her mother passed, we had lost touch.
My father’s doing . . .