Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Pushing myself up, the left side of my face aches and feels swollen. I lift my hand, but the moment my fingers brush over my bottom lip, I flinch from the pain.
With a groan, I stand up and glance around me.
I’m in one of the guestrooms. There’s a bed and a dressing table, and everything is decorated in the lace and frills Mrs. Parisi always loved so much.
Then I remember what happened. My stomach sinks from the weight of the fear pouring back into me.
The Cosa Nostra is going to force me to marry Mr. Greco. The man is so much older than me.
It’s insane!
My breaths start to come faster, and I wrap my arms around myself.
How did you let this happen, Rosalie? You’re so stupid!
Who gets kidnapped twice in a lifetime?
Panic drives me to the window. I open it wide and glance down at the ground beneath.
Suddenly the memory of when Viktor kidnapped me pops into my head. I remember how he apologized for hurting me when he yanked me back into the house to stop me from falling.
Not once after that night was there a bruise on my body.
Unlike now. I have a busted lip, and my face probably looks like I ran into a wall.
I’ll be forced into a marriage, and it doesn’t take much imagination to know what will happen. Mr. Greco will rape me. He’ll force me to have his children. He’ll beat me.
Viktor did none of those things.
God.
Rosalie, you made a big mistake, and now you’ll pay for it in the worst way possible.
I crouch by the window as the realization shudders through my body.
I’d give anything to be back with Viktor and Luna. He made me feel safe and treated me with respect. Even when I fought him, he never raised a hand against me. Those last two days, he made me feel so loved and cherished.
I’m so glad he was my first because if I don’t manage to escape, the memory of Viktor will have to carry me through the dark days ahead.
God, I had a chance at a love of a lifetime, but I let it go because of my family, who turned out to be bigger monsters than the Priesthood.
The disappointment and heartache create a storm in my chest.
Enough! Find a way out.
I stand up and glance down at the ground again. “God, this was so much easier when I was a kid,” I mutter as I throw my leg over the windowsill.
I hold on tight as I swing my other leg out, then find my footing between the holes in the trellis. Slowly, I start to move down, searching for spaces to hold onto.
Suddenly, I hear the wood snap. I suck in a breath, then the trellis pulls away from the house, making me shriek.
No!
I climb down further, but the wood must be worn with age, and it gives way. Another shriek escapes me as I fall. I hit the ground so hard my teeth clatter, and a sharp pain flares through my right hand and wrist.
Knowing someone must’ve heard me, I try to ignore the pain and dart to my feet. Holding my right hand to my chest, I run across the lawn toward the boundary wall, but I have no idea how I’m going to climb it.
Suddenly something plows into my back, and I slam into the perfect green lawn. An excruciating sharp pain shoots through my arm. It’s so intense that my vision blurs, and a wave of nausea hits, making my body feel feverishly hot all over.
The weight gets off me, then I’m grabbed by my wounded arm and yanked up. An agonizing cry rips from me.
I’m dragged back to the house by a guard, where the heads of the Cosa Nostra are gathering, all looking at me with anger.
Mr. Greco stalks toward us, and when he raises his arm to hit me, I instinctively duck away. The guard yanks me back, causing more pain to engulf my arm.
Before I can let out a cry, a fist connects with my face. I sway on my feet. The only thing keeping me standing is the guard.
“What’s going on?” I hear Alissa’s worried voice, then she shrieks, “What are you doing to Rosalie? Let go of her!”
“Go back to your party,” Mr. Perisi snaps at his daughter.
“No,” she argues. “What the hell is going on here?”
My vision comes back, and I turn a pleading gaze to Alissa. “H-help me.”
Her face is torn with shock, but when she tries to take a step in my direction, her father grabs hold of her and shoves her back inside the house. “Don’t test my patience, Alissa. This is business. Go back to your friends.”
“Daddy,” she gasps. “Rosalie is my friend.”
“Go, Alissa,” Mr. Parisi shouts at her.
“No!” she screams back, and it’s so convincing, I’m starting to think Alissa is just as shocked as I am, and she never had anything to do with this.