Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Nicole glances at me a few times, hurt and confusion etched on her features. And I don’t blame her. What I did was beyond messed up. But I had no choice.
I want to tell her what happened, but I can’t risk it. She might be on the outs with her father, but disagreeing over how her inheritance should be spent or whether she should take the bar exam is different from telling her that her father—the only parent she has—is trying to sell my virginity to someone to pay off his debt.
What if she doesn’t believe me?
What if she chooses him over me and helps him kidnap me?
What if she tells Brielle, and the Antonovs hand me over to him?
My phone pings with a text—thanks to the Wi-Fi onboard—and when I read it, the blood drains out of my body.
Asshole (Eric)
You don’t want to piss me off, little girl. I’ll have a car waiting for you when you get back to Harbor Point. Make the right decision and go with my men.
I stare at the text for several seconds before I type out my response.
Me
I’m not going anywhere with you.
And then—because, fuck it, I did all this for a reason, and he’s obviously aware that I overheard them talking—I add one more text.
Me
BTW, I got married last night … and I’m no longer a virgin. Guess you’ll have to find another way to pay back your debt.
With shaky fingers, I hit Send and then turn off the alerts from his number, knowing that my getting married and losing my virginity is going to piss him off and send him off the deep end.
“Hey, can we talk?” Nicole says softly, sitting next to me. “I need you to make me understand why you did this. You said you were waiting to have sex until marriage, so none of this makes sense.”
“I did wait until marriage,” I lie.
“Vanessa,” she breathes, “this isn’t you. Talk to me, please.”
“I—”
The yacht rocks as the captain announces that we’ve arrived, and my heart picks up speed.
We’re here.
This is it.
“I need to go talk to Lorenzo,” I say.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
I nod and stand and then walk over to Lorenzo, who’s glaring daggers at me.
And I don’t blame him.
If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d be screaming the place down.
I drugged him.
Then paid someone off to marry us without questions asked.
When he was barely conscious, I had him sign his name.
Then I had the gentleman I’d paid off help me bring him up to the room, where I staged it to look like we consummated our marriage.
He feels taken advantage of.
Violated.
And I hate that for him.
Not only that, but I hate that I had to use him.
I always swore I would never rely on a man. Yet here I am, no better than my mother, using Lorenzo to save myself.
But it’s either that or I get taken and sold to some crazy guy who buys women.
“Umm, can we talk?” I say to Lorenzo.
“Not now.” He brushes me off, then stops and glances at me. “Actually, I do have one question. Did we use protection last night?”
I flinch, not having thought of that, and go with a partial truth.
“I’m on birth control.”
“That’s what my ex said.” He chuckles darkly. “I need to get home to my son, and thanks to you, I have to add getting checked for STIs on my list of shit to do.”
“I don’t have any STIs,” I mutter, making his glare intensify. “But, umm …” I clear my throat. “I was hoping I could go with you … to your house.”
His head whips around, and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
And again, I don’t blame him.
“Fuck no, you can’t. I don’t want you anywhere near me or my son.”
I swallow thickly, trying to quickly figure this out.
In my head, we’d get married, and he—along with everyone else, including my stepfather—would think we had sex. I would go home with him, where I would be protected until my stepfather found another way to pay back his debt, and then I’d file for an annulment and go back to college to continue with my life.
“Okay, but—”
Before I can try a different angle, the bridge that links the yacht and the dock is let down, and everyone starts to pile off the ship.
“Wait, Lorenzo!” I plead, starting to panic.
I grab his arm, but he shakes me off.
“Vanessa,” Nicole utters, “stop it! You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“I can’t!” I cry out as everyone exits the yacht. “Lorenzo, please!” I yell, grabbing my carry-on and racing to catch up with him.
My overnight bag is heavy, so I end up leaving it on the dock so it doesn’t slow me down. My heart is pounding so hard that I can feel it in my ears. The world around me is starting to blur, and I know I’m about to have an anxiety attack.