Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Yeah, it stung. He’d been drinking, which is happening more and more since Nico De Kysa said he didn’t want to marry me.
“Look at her and then look at you. What man is going to want a wife who looks like she gives it away to every Tom, Dick, and Harry?”
Fighting tears I would never let him see me cry, I fled the house, climbed into the SUV driven by my bodyguard, and raged a battle against the tornado of self-loathing and hurt whipping through me as we drove toward the city for another night at another nightclub.
Maybe my father had been right. Maybe I should have felt humiliated by Nico De Kysa instead of feeling that overwhelming relief.
Perhaps if I had, my father would have treated me more like a daughter and less like a prized auction piece.
When I got to the club, I tried to forget what he said. Tried to forget how crap he made me feel. Downed margaritas like water to help me forget.
But I couldn’t get his voice out of my head, and his words spun in my brain like a spinning top until I couldn’t take it anymore.
Look at her and then look at you.
Spurred on by a need to see what was so spectacular about Bella Isle Ciccula—not to mention by the buckets of margaritas I’d downed since entering the club—the moment Vinnie was looking the other way, I disappeared out of the club and hailed a cab.
That’s how I got to be here, sitting at the Pulitzer Fountain across the road from the Plaza, watching all the elegant guests arrive at the engagement gala for Nico and Bella in their fancy cars and designer clothes, while I drink cheap sparkling wine from the bottle I picked up from a convenience store on the way.
How did my life get to be so… shitty?
I’ll tell you how.
I’m the daughter of a Mafia don who values power and status over family and love.
Oh, he knows I’m not a whore. He knows that, because he’s protected my virginity like the freaking crown jewels since boys started to take notice of me. Because my Mafia princess virginity is prime real estate to my power-hungry father. Kept intact so he can broker the right deal with the right man.
Domenico De Kysa was supposed to be that man. Instead, he’s marrying someone else—which is a relief, let me tell you, because now I’ve been given a small reprieve from having to give my body and life to a man I don’t even know.
Not that I couldn’t do with a bit of giving my body to someone. I mean, who is still a virgin at twenty-one?
I’ll tell you who. Me. All because my father wants to trade my pussy for power.
Forgive me, the cheap sparkling wine has gone to my head.
Unfortunately, my father has already started to scout for potential new husbands. Ones who will elevate his position in this city. But none of them have the sheen and power of the De Kysa name.
It's busted his ego big time, and he’s becoming obsessed over it.
Me, I remain grateful for the borrowed time.
Another fancy car rolls up to the steps and then another. I kick off my shoes and take another swig from the bottle.
I don’t see Nico arrive. But I see Bella arrive late. She’s wearing a black pantsuit that shows off her curves and great ass. She’s got great boobs too. And skin like an angel. She also walks like a supermodel. Confident. Determined. Badass.
Yeah, I’d marry her too.
Feeling deflated, I slump down on a step and gulp another mouthful of wine.
Two twenty-something blondes dressed like they’re going to the prom huddle together and laugh as they walk by me. They’re laughing at me sitting on the steps, shoeless, and drinking from a bottle.
“Shouldn’t that be in a paper bag?” one says, and the other one cracks up like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. She says something I don’t hear and they collapse into laughter as they cross the road and make their way into the Plaza.
“Shouldn’t that be in a paper bag,” I mimic before saluting them with my middle finger and taking another pull on the bottle.
A sleek SUV pulls up across the street and Massimo De Kysa climbs out. Nico’s younger brother is gorgeous. Expensive suit. Unshaven. Dark hair. Eyes that kind of mesmerize you. If you want my opinion, he’s way better looking and not as much of a grump as his older brother.
He glances over his shoulder as he exits the car and spots me.
At first, I think he’s going to keep walking into the hotel. But to my horror, he speaks to his driver, then turns in my direction and crosses the road.
I look away and pray a gigantic crater will open up in the ground in front of me, and I’ll disappear into a fresh new hell instead of this one.