El Diablo II Read online M. Robinson (The Devil #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Devil Series by M. Robinson
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
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“Children? As in plural? As in more than one?”

“With marriage comes a family.”

“I don’t even know his birthday! I don’t know his middle name. I don’t know anything about him. I’ve seen him twice. Twice, Papà! Why are you doing this to me?”

“It’s the right thing to do. You will obey me. I’m your father, Sienna. Your father. Am I making myself clear?”

My eyes rimmed with tears. There was no getting through to him. Nothing I could say or do would change the outcome of the day. I was never in control of my life and it was clear I never would be.

I hated this.

I despised being put in this situation as if I was nothing more than a pawn, a wife, a fucking baby maker! Only triggering the deep-rooted fury, I had for Crucifixio Martinez.

Son of a bitch.

The respect I had for my father was one thing, but it wouldn’t carry over to my husband. I didn’t owe Cruz a damn thing, and he was about to pay the price for my hand in all this.

“Capo,” Uncle Gino interrupted. “We’re ready when you are.”

He nodded. “I don’t want to leave this room without telling you how proud I am of the woman you’ve become, Principessa. Your mother would be too. I know you’re upset with me. I understand. I’ll allow it. This day is not easy for me either. I have to give you away to another man. I didn’t think this day would come so soon. The house will be empty without you in it, Sienna.”

This was my father to a T. I could be furious with him one minute and then he’d say something that had me weak in the knees with a heavy heart. I loved him. He was a good man, the best man.

To me.

Mamà.

His men.

“I am honored and grateful to have you as my daughter. You’ve been a constant presence in my life for so long and you won’t be in our home anymore.”

I wanted to say he was the reason I wouldn’t be there.

“With that said, I want to reassure you that while you may live in another man’s home, you’re still my daughter and I will always be there for you. No matter what.”

“What if you’re wrong about Cruz? Huh? You barely even know him. What if he’s—”

“If he hurts you in anyway, Principessa, he will have to answer to me, and trust me, Sienna, Cruz is a smart man. He doesn’t want me as an enemy,” he paused, letting his words sink in. “You shouldn’t look at this marriage as a prison sentence, but instead as an opportunity to pursue your dreams without having to worry about being cared for.”

My dreams are to run away from this day.

“I wish your mother was here to see you right now. The only thing I can offer you in her place is this.” Slowly, he turned my body until I was facing the full-length mirror.

Our eyes connected in the reflection of the glass as he placed a dainty diamond cross around my neck from behind me.

“On your first birthday, your mother bought this for you. She said she wanted to give it to you on your wedding day.”

I sucked in a light breath, stunned by the turn of events, feeling like she was suddenly there with us.

“Thank you, Papà.”

For the first time in my life, I saw his eyes pool with fresh tears. I’d never seen a tear so much as leave my father’s eyes until today. Not even at Mamà’s funeral. I’d forever remember this expression on his face. It was an image I’d take to my grave.

We stood there for I don’t know how long, lost in my reflection in the mirror. To me, this wasn’t a real wedding. It was an arranged marriage I was being forced into. Nevertheless, to him, it was the exact opposite. This was very much a real wedding and marriage in every extent of the words and meaning. He truly was giving me away to a man he believed was in my best interest.

A provider.

A caretaker.

A husband.

His lips trembled, and without hiding it he allowed his tears to flow loosely out of his solemn stare. It broke my heart in ways I never saw coming. Seeing my father cry was not a sentiment I was emotionally prepared for. I’d rather see him angry than ever see him like this.

“Please don’t cry, Papà.”

“Promise me, you will try to find a place in your heart for your husband.”

“That’s not fair.” I shook my head. “You can’t ask me that.”

“I can and I am.”

“Papà…”

“Promise me, Sienna. I need to hear you say the words.”

“I’m sorry, Papà. I can give you anything else, but please don’t ask me to lie to you. I don’t want this. I don’t love him, and I can’t pretend like I’m okay with this because I’m not.”


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