Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Glancing at Big Ricky, I order, “Wait outside.”
“Yes, boss.”
I shut the door before turning my attention to the priest.
There’s a cautious look on Father Parisi’s face as he asks, “If it’s not for salvation, why are you here?”
Cutting to the chase, I say, “I’m getting married and need you to perform the ceremony.”
Surprise flutters over the old man’s face. “Oh.” He blinks at me before letting out a sigh of relief. “That’s such good news. When will the wedding be held?”
He probably thought I wanted to use the Parish for illegal reasons.
“Tomorrow night.”
The quicker I get this over with, the sooner I can give all my attention to my business again.
His eyebrows lift. “That’s earlier than I expected. Will it be held here at the cathedral?”
I shake my head. “The ceremony will take place at my estate. I expect you to be there at seven p.m.”
He moves closer to his table as he asks, “Who’s the bride?”
“Vittoria Romano.”
The priest's eyes fly to my face, and the blood drains from his complexion. “Tori hasn’t said anything to me about marrying you.”
Taking a step closer, I tilt my head. My tone is low, carrying the promise of death, as I say, “That’s because she doesn’t know, and it will stay that way until we’re both saying our vows in front of you.”
A pleading expression tightens his features. “Mr. Rizzo, I can’t perform a forced marriage between you and Tori.”
My patience starts slipping, and I clench my jaw as my eyes sharpen on him. “You will do as I say, or a new priest will sit in this office.” I take another threatening step closer to him. “And you will not tell anyone of this until Vittoria is married to me.”
“She’s a good girl,” he pleads. “Don’t do this to her.”
Done with this conversation, I mutter, “Seven p.m. sharp tomorrow night. Don’t make me add killing a priest to my list of sins.” Wanting to get through to the man so he’ll keep his mouth shut, I close the distance between us and stare him down with all the brutality I’m capable of. “I’ll drain you of every drop of blood in your body before nailing you to a fucking cross for your entire Parish to see.”
The old man swallows hard on his fear while his body shakes, his head bobbing frantically up and down.
Done with the meeting, I stalk to the door, and pulling it open, I leave the stunned priest in his office and walk out of the cathedral.
I want to get this wedding over and done with so my life can return to normal.
God help whoever gets in the way of me putting my ring on Vittoria’s finger.
Tori
For once, Giorgio looks worse than me with his broken arm, crooked nose, and black eyes.
Mr. Falco’s men beat the living crap out of him, and my only regret is that I didn’t get to see it happen.
Wearing a cream silk gown with long lace sleeves, I frown at Giorgio. “Why am I even going with you?”
This dress must’ve cost more than all the clothes in my cupboard, but I’m glad it covers my arms and legs so none of the bruises are visible.
“Because we have to present a united family,” he mutters impatiently. “This is an important night for me. I’m finally getting the recognition I deserve.”
Looking at his beaten-up face, I find that hard to believe.
Giorgio’s eyes sweep over me, and looking disgusted, he says, “You could’ve done something with your fucking hair.”
“It takes hours to straighten my hair,” I argue. “It’s not like you gave me much time to prepare.”
Giorgio came home an hour ago, threw the dress and heels at me, and told me to get ready. There was only time to bathe and put on some makeup.
He takes a threatening step toward me, but for some reason, he seems to restrain himself from hitting me.
Instead, he shoves a finger in my face and hisses, “You’re fucking testing my last nerve. Shut the fuck up. When we’re at Mr. Rizzo’s place, you’ll just fucking smile and not say a fucking word.”
I just stare at him, and usually, it would make him beat the living hell out of me, but I’m at the point where I don’t care anymore.
“Fucking bitch,” he snaps, and grabbing my arm, he shoves me toward the front door. “Mark my words. When we get home, I’m going to make you wish you were never born.”
“You’ve done that plenty of times before. The threat doesn’t scare me,” I mutter as I walk out of the house.
The flat of Giorgio’s hand slams against the back of my head. “Shut the fuck up!”
After shutting the door and locking it, Giorgio grabs my bicep and drags me to his Dodge.
My foot is still tender from the cut I got Tuesday night, and the heels aren’t helping. I’m pushed into the passenger seat, and the door’s slammed shut.