Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Samuel and his father attended Dad’s funeral like all Underbosses of the Outfit. Samuel stood out from the crowd with his blue eyes, blond hair, and tall frame. Many girls fancied him. Now he looked tired, with dark shadows under his eyes and a haunted expression on his face. Ever since his sister had run off to join the Camorra, he’d looked like that. It must have been hard for him.
He and his father shook hands with Danilo before they turned to me.
“My condolences,” Samuel said, meeting my gaze. He was one of the very few who looked me in the eyes. Most people seemed uncomfortable to do so—either because of my grief or my wheelchair. In most cases, it was probably a combination of the two.
“Thank you,” I said softly. I considered telling him I was sorry about his sister, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Danilo always got grumpy when I mentioned her, and I had a feeling Samuel felt even worse, considering it was his twin.
Samuel nodded, then returned his gaze to Danilo. The tension between them was palpable. It had gotten much worse in the past year, but Danilo refused to discuss it.
I stared at my brother in the present. My heart began pounding, my ears closing off, my throat feeling tight. Samuel was a good catch, a great catch. Most people in our cruel mafia world would even go as far as to say he was too good a catch for me.
Sometimes I caught myself mimicking those horrible thoughts. Not because I believed that I was worth less because of my wheelchair but because the people in our world thought so.
Women were judged by their, if possible, flawless beauty. To think of a disabled woman as beautiful was unheard of. People’s sight reduced itself to the device supporting me, not the body it held. It wasn’t my job to make them see reason.
Even as a child, I’d heard and understood the whispers when Cincinatti had broken off things. People had pitied me because I was disabled and doomed to be alone, but nobody had really blamed Cincinatti’s Underboss for wanting the best for his son, which apparently wasn’t me, and protecting him from a childless future at my side.
And now the Miones, now Samuel had chosen me as his wife?
“Why—” I cleared my throat. “Why did he choose me?”
Danilo frowned. “Aren’t you happy?”
Was I happy? I didn’t think so. First of all, I was overwhelmed and suspicious of the arrangement. “Why?”
Danilo pulled his hands away, then got up and perched on the sofa next to me. “Because our families are both important and—”
“Please don’t say it’s to strengthen our bond.”
His mouth twitched in a ghost smile that was gone before it could really manifest. “It’s one reason, of course. It’s always been done this way. You know that.”
“I also know that our families are already bonded because of your engagement to Sofia, and I know I’m not the most sought-after bachelorette on the market. It doesn’t make sense for Samuel to choose me unless he hopes to get bonus points for marrying a cripple.”
“Emma,” Danilo growled, “don’t use that word.”
“I can call myself whatever I want,” I said firmly. I hated the word with every fiber of my being, but it got my point across.
“Samuel wants a good, caring wife, and that’s what you’ll be. He doesn’t care if you’re in a wheelchair.”
I wanted to believe that, but doing so would have been foolish, and I didn’t like being a fool.
“Just be happy, alright? This is good for you. You have a bright future ahead of you with an important husband and a family of your own.”
Most of all, Danilo wouldn’t have to worry about me as much as he would had I stayed a spinster. Maybe he would even have felt obligated to let me live under the same roof with him and Sofia. It was better this way—definitely for Danilo and for me too. Annoyed, I wheeled back until I could turn around. “I need some water.”
“I can get—”
“I’ll get it myself,” I said, moving toward the small kitchen area of the suite. I opened the minibar and took out one of the tiny San Pellegrino bottles. I could practically feel Danilo’s questioning gaze burning into my back as I emptied the bottle in a few gulps, not even bothering with a glass. My annoyance had barely lessened, but I knew I had to continue this conversation. With a sigh, I put the bottle on the counter, then returned to my brother, who honestly looked confused by my reaction.
Had he thought I’d be overjoyed?
Maybe I should be happier? I promised myself not to doubt Samuel’s decision. “Does Mom know?”
“Of course. She’s delighted. We both are, Emma.”
Of course, she was. She’d been deeply worried that I’d end up alone. Spinsters were looked down upon in our world.