Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 18000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Because I, too, wanted vengeance.
"I can't do it."
And I have it the moment the penny drops.
No, I won't kill his enemy for him.
I turn away just as my father starts shaking in impotent rage.
I can feel him staring at my back as his enemy's men lead me out of his room, and I know he's already furiously busy thinking up ways to torture and kill me, for daring to disobey him.
But because my father is no idiot...
I know he'll bide his time and hope that I change my mind.
It's why he's survived this long.
He has never lacked patience. He's always been the type to stand back and watch, and most times, it works. Fear would get the better of his prey, and they'd end up doing whatever he wanted.
Not this time, though.
Or ever again.
Because even if he does make good on his threat, so what?
I'm more than ready to meet my God, and death is the only thing that's standing in my way.
So feel free to do your worst, Father.
But for now, I need to live.
Why though, God?
The reason I'm alive still escapes me, but the thought of questioning His decision doesn't even cross my mind. There's still something I have to do in this world apparently, and whatever it is requires swapping one prison for another.
The men in front of me come to a stop when we reach the front door. All of them have balaclavas over their faces to hide their identities, but figuring out who's in charge is a no-brainer.
I've seen him in action earlier. All he does is nod or gesture, and the rest of them follow like clockwork. And so when Mr. Stranger-in-Charge turns to me, I have to resist the oddest urge to click my heels and salute.
Sir, yes, sir!
"Is there anything you'd like to take with you before we leave?"
The question completely catches me off guard, and my mood instantly switches from hysterically playful to uneasy and wary.
"Or perhaps you have someone whom you would like to go with you?"
Yeah, right.
I've lost count of the times my father expressed the same offer to his captives, but it was never out of mercy or compassion. He asks because he wants them to hurt even more. He asks in order to know what and who to destroy.
"You do not have to fear us, mademoiselle. We are no longer at war."
My mind says he's lying.
Because it's what the mafia does best.
They lie and lie and lie, just like a thief in the night that only wants to kill, steal, and destroy.
"You can always ask again on another day, of course."
And yet my heart, oh God.
I'm scared, God. I'm so scared.
Why is it suddenly full of joy and hope?
"But there is no guarantee that the things - and people - that matter to you will still be here whenever it is you decide to trust us."
I want to trust what he's saying, God.
But can I?
May I?
"We are here to serve you. You're about to be the wife of Calixte Romano---"
My head spins. My heart races. And my soul starts to sing.
"W-What did you call him?" I ask jerkily.
"Ah." Even though the balaclava he's wearing hides his face, the smile in the stranger's voice is undeniable. "No one told you, mademoiselle?"
I shake my head.
"Dauphin Tueur is nothing but a fake name that he's taken to using, mostly because it was what the people called him back in the day. Loosely translated, you can say it's French for Prince of Killers. But his real name, which he also goes by in the 'real' world, is Calixte Romano."
Romano.
Romano.
Romano.
I feel like laughing and crying at the same time. Just when I was on the brink of deciding whether to run away or trust this new path, I would've thought He'd choose to answer me very clearly with a 'yes' or 'no'.
(That would not make a good story to share, child.)
But instead, He gives me a puzzle to solve.
And one so subtle that tears finally win over laughter, and my knees completely fold under me.
I see what you're doing, God.
(And it's fun, is it not? To know that you see what I want you to see.)
No, not really.
(And hear what I want you to hear.)
It's scary, that's what it is.
(How is it scary?)
Because what if I didn't get it?
(You would not "get" it if you were not my child.)
(But you are. Aren't you?)
Romans 10:9 Because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.
Where the Heart is
My husband's men give me time to collect my belongings, meager as they are, and Mr. Stranger-In-Charge doesn't even blink when I tell him what else I'd like to have with me.
"As you wish, mademoiselle."
I start questioning myself as soon as I hear the words. He makes it sound like things are already as good as done, but are they, really?