Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Gabriel glances at Rosie. His face is hard for a moment before he reaches for her. I hand my little daughter over and the normally tough-as-nails enforcer softens into mush as he coos and makes babbling noises for her. She grins and laughs and squeals as he tickles her. I watch them, feeling warm for a brief moment.
He’s nicer to my daughter than he ever was to me.
“Mom found the priest,” he says at last. Rosie snuggles into him as he holds her against his chest. “Turns out Father Michael came down with something and he sent another guy in his place.”
“Fantastic.” I sink down in front of the mirror. “How’s my future husband?”
“He’s not so bad.” But Gabriel doesn’t sound very convincing. “It’s a good deal for you, Allie. He can’t have kids of his own, so he’s happy to get a daughter in the mix.”
“He’s almost Dad’s age.”
“You won’t have to worry about sharing his bed.”
I grimace slightly. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“I’m only saying this is a good thing. You’re getting stability for Rosie.”
“I know. It’s fine, honestly. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You’re doing the right thing.” He lowers Rosie down into her playpen and lingers beside me. “The others won’t say it, but I’m going to. Life’s been hard since Rosie came along. She’s a fucking treasure, but people talk in our world. This marriage is going to fix that.”
“You think it’ll stop them talking?” I smile sadly to myself. “They’ll always find something new to say.”
Gabriel grunts and doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t understand. He’s tall, handsome, and strong, the kind of man people don’t fuck with. Nobody speaks badly about him, not unless they want their teeth smashed in.
He has no idea what it’s like.
Being ruined.
The door opens again and Mother appears. “It’s time,” she says, glancing at her oldest son. “Did you tell her about the priest?”
“She knows.” Gabriel kisses Mama’s cheek. “I’ll see you out there.” He leaves as I stand and gather myself. Mother walks over and lifts Rosie up, holding her tightly.
“You don’t have to look so worried. I’m not going to mess this up.”
For once, Mama’s expression wavers. “I know you won’t.” She walks over and lightly brushes her fingers across my hair, smiling slightly to herself. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I smile despite myself. It’s probably the nicest she’s been to me in years. “How many people are out there?”
“Not too many. We kept it small.” Her expression hardens again. “We should get moving. No need to delay any longer.”
The ceremony is taking place in the back garden of the Russo manor. Papa’s waiting for us in the hall, and he walks with me toward the sliding doors as Mama goes off with Rosie to find her seat among the guests. Nervous energy bristles through me as I walk the halls of the strange old house for what feels like the last time.
The halls are large and cramped. Old rugs suck up noise like water down a drain. The wallpaper is old and peeling in the corners, and I swear there are more spiderwebs than working lighting fixtures. Moldy water spots mar the ceilings in some of the rooms, though we don’t use most of those anyway. Papa doesn’t say anything as we make our way through the ancient house, past sitting areas that were once glorious and beautiful but are now packed with tarped furniture and cold from lack of working heat.
The manor has always been like this ever since I was a little girl. We’re about an hour outside of New York, over on the Jersey side of the river, in a little rural town. Papa always used to talk about the glory days of this place, how it was always filled with staff, family, and friends, and there was never a single speck of dust where it didn’t belong. But time always makes a mess of everything. Now the manor is halfway crumbling and my parents can barely afford the upkeep.
Everything has gotten progressively worse these last five years, like everything has been coming to a head.
We stop when we reach the door. I can see shadows through the drawn blinds. Papa clears his throat. Piano music floats through the air. He seems tense and uncertain.
“Your fiancé has made me certain promises,” he starts to say but stops himself. He clears his throat. “It’s going to be good for all of us.”
I wonder if I should ask how much he sold me for, but that isn’t fair.
“I know, Papa. I’m not afraid.”
“You’ve never been afraid of anything in your life.” He smiles slightly and looks at me. “Remember that awful fight we got into when you were twelve?”
“I hid in the treehouse for an entire night.”
“It stormed like crazy. I watched from upstairs as the trees swayed, and I kept thinking you’d come running home to apologize.”