Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Because Thomas is the direct opposite of evil.
He chooses to remain poor because he refuses to work with corrupt organizations, and I couldn’t admire him more for being so noble and upright. He stands for truth and goodness. Given the violent circumstances of my upbringing, it is what I believe in too. What use is money when it is ill-gotten?
“Francesca,” Thomas says passionately. “I wish everything was different, but I have to accept that you are lost to me…”
I stare at him in shock. He is giving up? So easily? Why? I know having to see me marry someone else is horrible, but he knows I have no choice. It is a marriage in name only and I have every intention of getting out of it as soon as humanly possible.
I expect him to say more, to change his words, but whatever he is looking at behind us seems to completely choke him up. He has also become white as a sheet and appears frozen with fear. I swing my head around to see the object of his terror.
Valentino is standing behind me, hell in his eyes.
Chapter Two
FRANCESCA
Valentino glances from me to Thomas before saying just one word
“Leave.”
“Oh, okay.” Without even a glance at me, Thomas scurries off like a frightened rabbit.
“Thomas!”
“Thom-”
“Say his name one more time, and he’ll be dead by morning.”
The half-spoken name freezes in my throat. I turn fully to face my new husband. Our gazes clash. Angry blue versus deadly gray. My automatic response to him has always been flight not fight, but this time the pain that rips through my heart makes me stand my ground and say exactly what I want to.
“One of these days, while you’re busy killing other people, I hope you kill yourself!”
He doesn’t retreat. There is a strange madness in his eyes as he closes the distance between us. His fingers are cool as they stroke my neck softly. I swallow hard. I can’t blatantly push his hand away. All eyes are on us and if he’s anything like my father, he will not take kindly to being embarrassed in front of his whole clan. It would be stupid to test him while the killer in him roams his eyes. For the sake of the welfare of my family, I decide to exercise caution. I will fight him in private.
I inhale sharply as he tightens his fingers, not enough to hurt but enough to send a message. I get it. Loud and clear. He leans his mouth so close to my ear, I feel the warmth of his skin. My breath quickens.
“The car is here. We’re leaving,” he says quietly.
“What about the reception?”
“Sorry. Don’t feel like one.” He was clearly not sorry at all.
I gulp. “But… the cake…”
“I’m not a fan of red velvet cake or lemon icing,” he says flatly.
My jaw drops. The fact that he knows a little detail like that shocks me. He has not been part of the planning of the wedding or consulted about anything because he had instructed my grandfather to hire the best wedding planner in town and expressed a desire not to be involved in the process.
With his hand on the small of my rigid back, he leads me towards a sleek black car. The engine is running and a uniformed chauffeur nods and opens the passenger door closest to us. I look back to see Mama standing next to Nonno. She is surprised to see us leave. The people who don’t know the itinerary as intimately as she does are cheering and clapping. Tears spring to my eyes. I stop abruptly before the open car door. Our gazes meet. Fire and Ice.
“Where are we going?” I ask mutinously.
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
“What about my dress? I have to change out of it.”
He looks down dismissively at my gown. “Why? A dress worth a quarter of a million dollars should be appreciated by as many people as possible.”
Well, well, he does know how much my dress costs. I stand my ground. “I’d like to say goodbye to my mother.”
“You spent your goodbyes on that freckled maggot,” he says. “Get in the fucking car.”
My heart drops to my stomach at his nasty tone. How dare he call Thomas a freckled maggot? His freckles are charming. One fingernail on Thomas is worth more than all of Valentino. I want to spit at him, but people are watching. I don’t want to make a scene and embarrass my family so I pick up the big skirt of my dress and throw myself into the car, hating him even more for preventing me from saying goodbye to my mother. A call will have to suffice. Valentino climbs in from the other side, and suddenly, it feels like the large interior of the vehicle has become too small. I feel suffocated in my beautiful dress.