Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I was fifteen when Boston's most powerful mafia billionaire Giancarlo Marchetti saved me from becoming a madman's bride...by volunteering to be my husband instead.
I know I'm supposed to feel grateful, but I don't want to be anyone's burden.
And that's why I'll do everything I can to escape him.
This is Part I of a duet. CLIFFHANGER ending.
age gap romance, enemies to lovers romance
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Eight Years Ago
Ropes
IT TAKES MORE EFFORT than I assumed, but I eventually manage to rip the cord off the lampstand.
Am I really going to do this?
I start yanking the cord from both ends.
Seems okay...
But can it hold my weight long enough until I die?
Only one fucking way to find out.
Tears burn my eyes even as I force myself to get moving.
It's not like I have a fucking choice.
I climb up the sink, and it gets harder and harder to fight back my tears.
It's better this way.
Because they made it so fucking clear, even with all of their faces covered, and none of them saying a single word—-
You know it is.
The way they had smirked and high-fived each other said it all.
And I'd rather die than let them have their way.
I tie the cord around my neck, and my tears finally start falling.
Fuck you, assholes.
I loop the cord around the beam.
Tighten the one around my neck until my lungs begin to struggle.
It's the cue I'm both dreading and waiting for.
Just think of it as flying.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Fly. I'm just going to fly. That's all.
I step off the counter.
Bang!
But I'm too late.
No. Fuck. No.
Instead of flying, I hear the bedroom door crash open, and a whirlpool of despair threatens to swallow me up.
No!
It's the sound of hell knocking on my door, and a scream rips out of my throat when someone grabs my legs.
Nooooooooooooooo!
I'm screaming and kicking as fear eats me alive from within.
NO! NO! NO!
I feel myself slowly losing my mind.
Please, please, please.
The cord around my neck loosens, and I start clawing whatever I can reach.
Can't anyone please help me?
Someone starts speaking, but my mind has already started to disintegrate.
I don't want this.
My body grows heavy, and my knees start to fold.
Please.
I know I'm about to lose consciousness, and I just know—-
Please, somebody, please.
When I wake up, I'll no longer be who I was.
Can't somebody help me?
I can't seem to stop begging even though I know no one's there to rescue me.
Please.
And yet...
Please.
I could've sworn someone heard my heart crying out.
Please.
And answered me with the words I had dreamt of my entire life.
"Sei al sicuro."
You're safe now.
Cages
DON'T OPEN YOUR EYES.
It's the first thing that pops into my mind when I regain consciousness.
Don't move.
Because I can sense someone staring at me even with my eyes still closed.
Don't panic.
But my heart is an idiot like always, and it starts racing uncontrollably.
Am I...okay?
I know the word is lame as fuck, but it's all I can handle right now.
I just want to know if I'm...okay.
So, let's see...
I'm still fully clothed, for one.
And from what I've read, the part between my legs is supposed to hurt.
If I'm not okay, that is.
But I think...I am.
Right?
Because if I'm wrong, then I should feel differently.
I'd know...right?
If I'm not...okay?
"I know you're awake."
FUCK.
It takes everything in me to stay abso-fucking-lutely still and not open my eyes. The voice may have sounded gentle and distinctly female, but who gives a shit? I bet people said the same thing about the Countess of Bath just before she had their bodies drained of blood.
"You have no reason to believe me yet, but you're safe with us."
Yeah right.
"Signor Marchetti—-"
Did she just say 'Marchetti'?
"It's no use to keep pretending you're asleep when your heart rate just spiked up."
Fuck.
The truth in her words is a hard pill to swallow, but I still feel nauseous like hell as I slowly force my eyes open.
Fuck.
Why is everything spinning?
"It's alright. Just take deep breaths."
The other woman's words make me feel like a fucking baby, and I hate it.
But with the world around me still spinning, it's not like I have a choice.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I do as she says even when I feel stupid, and after a few more tries, the spinning eventually slows down, and my head gradually stops throbbing as well.
"Better?"
It takes another dose of courage to make myself turn towards the voice.
Oh.
I expected someone in her thirties, but instead, I found a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl seated next to my bed. I'm guessing she's just a few years older. Maybe 20 or 21 to my fifteen. But either way, who gives a shit? She's a stranger to me still, and that's enough reason for me not to trust her.
We stare at each other, and impatience eventually gets the better of me.
"Who are you?" I ask in a guarded tone.
Her lips curve in a smile, and she looks even more angelic than she already does.
Not buying it.
"Will you believe me if I say I'm simply someone who wants to help?"
"Only if you'll tell me what you're hoping to get in exchange."
"And if I say I have nothing to gain?"
"Then no. I don't believe you just want to help me," I answer flatly, but the words only cause her blue eyes to twinkle.
Cray, I think right away.
No doubt about it: this girl isn't in her right mind.