Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
People in need was something he had seen every damn day of his life. Because it was his father who had tortured them. And later on, because of the years he had spent incarcerated.
But he had never been moved to help them impulsively.
It was one of the most painful lessons he had learned early on as a child, and he had witnessed his first murder.
To understand and accept that he was just a boy—-
And that he would only end up helping no one if he were to act like he was everyone's savior.
You can't save everyone.
And yet with this girl...
Why was she different?
He had not even paused for a single second to weigh his alternatives like he usually did.
The moment he had seen the flash of pain in her eyes—-
He had claimed her as his wife.
Wife.
It was as if he had lost his fucking mind.
Since when did claiming a woman had become a way of comfort?
He had never acted impulsive or foolish.
Until her.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He was suddenly and violently tempted to shove her away and be done with her.
She was an enigma that represented chaos.
And he had an ominous feeling that life would never be the same again the moment he took her home.
Walk away from her.
The insidious voice in his mind came out of nowhere, tempting him like the fucking devil.
Do it now...before it's too late.
His car came up at the entrance as the temptation to get rid of her grew.
One of his bodyguards opened the door for them, but instead of getting inside, she glanced up at him in askance.
Do I get in or not?
And for those who were not of their world, this would have meant nothing.
But for them who were famiglia?
Danger was ever-present if one were to let his guard down, and stepping inside a car, regardless of who owned it, was always a matter of trust.
Always.
And so for her to simply glance at him in askance was already Gazelle placing her trust in him.
No turning back now.
Because with that one glance, the voice inside his head was effectively silenced.
He was the Beast of New York, whom everyone else feared and ran away from.
Even when all he desired was to help—-
People often choose to trust the devil over him.
But she was different.
This girl who was the wife he had ignored for two years—-
She trusted him, and it was the most fucking precious gift anyone could have given him.
Journal Entry
Am I allowed to think my husband is handsome?
LORENZO'S CAR IS SOMETHING Giancarlo would have terribly approved of. It's black and not at all flashy, for one. And it's an SUV instead of a limo or something similarly difficult to maneuver. Vehicles for Giancarlo only mean two things: something to get you from Point A to Point B in the quickest and safest way possible. If it can't do either, then he doesn't care for it.
And Lorenzo's car?
Definitely something Giancarlo would approve of, especially with its bulletproof windows.
The realization gives me peace, and it nearly makes me smile. I know it's silly, but it's almost like having my oldest brother's blessing.
(And you'll give it one day, won't you? When you come back to us...Alive.)
My chest starts to tighten, but I refuse to dwell on the pain.
It's time to walk the talk, I tell myself.
If I truly believe that Giancarlo is still alive, I have to act like it, and my duty to famiglia is no different from my brothers'. We're to hold the fort until Giancarlo returns, whatever and however way we can.
And in my case, for better or for worse, that would have to involve...him.
I fight off the urge to squirm when I realize he's been staring at me all this time.
I wish there was a way I could tell what he's thinking, but his eyes reveal nothing at all, and it's making me feel nervous.
I'm sure he's noticed me standing next to Sarica earlier. What if he thinks he's married the wrong Marchetti or almost-Marchetti? I honestly believe Sarica's one of the most beautiful girls in the world. Can I blame Lorenzo if—-
Oh!
The rest of my thoughts are all but forgotten when familiar views outside the car windows catch my attention.
Why has he taken me back to my grandmother's home?
"The rest of your famiglia shall join us shortly."
People often say I look so shy, and it's true. But most of them never realize that my shyness is also a mask.
Unlike him.
Is he really that good at reading people's thoughts or is it just mine that's exceptionally keen at decoding?
"We're to wait for them in your grandmother's study."
He speaks as if everything's been pre-arranged, and the words are out of my mouth before I even realize what I'm asking.
"Are we truly married?"
"Sì."
I can't recall ever signing anything to support this, but knowing how my grandmother just loves to surprise us grandchildren with the marriages she's arranged, I have no doubt it's the truth.