Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
“And,” my mother intervenes, “since it’s my birthday, I’ve asked for Aldo to tell you all something exciting.” Her words are slurred, but it seems nobody notices as they clap and shout for news.
“My wife and I have made another leap forward. Since our families have always been close,” Dad says to the crowd of onlookers who are eating out of the palm of his hand, “we have agreed to have Lelia marry into the Mosca clan.”
Everything around me spins. The world tilts on its axis. My lungs struggle to pull in much-needed air. And all I’ve come to know is lost. I know who he’s sold me off to because I can feel the man’s eyes on me right now.
I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to acknowledge that he’s going to be my husband, but I can’t stop it from happening. Unless I run away. But where would I go? There’s nothing else I can do about it but to smile and nod.
“Where is my princess?” Dad calls, and each set of eyes that turns to me sets me on edge. My feet are cemented to the spot, even though I wish I could turn and run. I should have stayed hidden in the maze. I should have just spent the evening at the fountain, dreaming of a perfect first kiss I can never have again.
I step forward, taking my time to reach my father, who pulls me against him when I reach him. His arm wraps around my shoulders, and his gaze is locked on me, burning through me. It’s a reminder that I’m nothing more than a puzzle piece in his large plan for the familia.
“My daughter is excited about her future,” he tells everyone the lie. I was excited before I learned about my responsibilities to the Vitale name. “She will soon be eighteen, which means she’ll live with the Moscas until the day of the wedding. We’ll miss her,” he says with a chuckle. “But this is something she’s looked forward to. Her place in the family is finally taking shape.”
The applause deafens me, and that’s when my fiancé, the man I’m meant to walk down the aisle for steps up to me. He’s nearing his forties, with dark hair and green eyes that remind me of slime. A slithering of ice trickles its way up and down my spine, and I have to fight back the shudder.
“It’s so good to see you,” he tells me. This is someone who has watched me grow up. He’s known me since I was a baby. The idea of that only makes the revulsion I feel for him even stronger.
I want to hit him.
I want to scream.
But I smile. The good girl obeying her elders. A movement in the garden catches my eye, and I realize there’s a shadow at the edge of the maze. I know who it is, even though I cannot see his face. The dark has stolen him from me, but he still lingers on the outskirts of my world.
I’m certain he heard the announcement.
There’s no doubt he knows I wasn’t lying when I told him I’m supposed to be married. And he also knows there is nothing he or I can do about it. Domenico will move on and find a beautiful woman to hang on his arm at events. She’ll bear his children.
The thought comes to me quickly, and I glance up in the green eyes of the man staring at me as if I’m a precious toy. Something he can use and abuse. And I realize I’m going to have to give him an heir.
“Let’s dance,” he tells me and my father shouts for music. The party continues as the rough, calloused hands of a man old enough to be my dad paw at me. Nobody thinks it’s wrong. They all laugh and sing along as he twirls me on the makeshift dance floor.
When the song comes to an end, I glance toward the shadows and see nothing.
Perhaps I was imagining Domenico was still here.
Or maybe he’s walked away, realizing I’m a lost cause.
Chapter 9
Domenico
Ishould have never invited her to the graveyard.
But I couldn’t just leave her there. Even though she’s a Vitale, she isn’t like the rest of them. Her innocence, her purity, it called to me like a beacon. A siren song if ever I heard one. Last night has replayed in my mind so many times, I can recite the script as if I’d learned it off by heart.
But, if she doesn’t meet me today, I won’t give up.
My mother enters the kitchen as I pour a strong black coffee. “Did you have a nice evening, darling?” she asks as she floats to the fridge. Her long robe whispers against the expensive tiles as she picks out some strawberries.