Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I keep my circle small because, in my world, it’s the only way to stay alive.
There’s a knock at my office door before Tiny enters, followed by a shit-scared Giorgio, who doesn’t look like he’s gotten any sleep since we last spoke.
It makes me recall how tired Vittoria looked.
Tiny shoves the fucker forward, and he comes to a staggering stop in front of my desk. My eyes lock on him with disgust, while his pleading gaze is filled with terror.
I could kill him and just take Vittoria.
My tone is filled with danger as I mutter, “If I take Vittoria for myself, I won’t tolerate any interference from you.”
Confusion flutters over his face before it’s followed by relief. “So you’re taking her virginity in exchange for wiping the three hundred thousand off my name?”
I stare at the man until it looks like he’s going to piss himself before I say, “I haven’t made up my mind yet. If you breathe a word of this discussion to her, it will be the last thing you do.”
“O-of c-c-course,” he stammers. “I’m not stupid. The last thing I want is for her to run away.”
Tilting my head, I ask, “Is that something you think she’ll do?”
His head bobs up and down. “Since she was a teen, she’s had a stupid dream of living in a small town with a white-picket fence house and the perfect husband. She’s keeping herself pure for marriage.”
My eyes narrow on the fucker for insulting Vittoria’s childhood dream. If she marries me, she’ll have a fucking castle and everything her heart desires.
“What else does she dream of?” I demand.
“The usual bullshit. Being a mother.”
That’s good to hear.
Waving a hand, I dismiss Giorgio. The gesture has Tiny gripping the fuckers arm and shoving him out of my office.
When I’m alone again, I stare at the spreadsheet on my laptop, but I don’t see any of the numbers.
My thoughts are with the beautiful little deer who might become my wife. Knowing she’s a flight risk, I begin to devise a plan. If she can’t know about the wedding, I’ll have to lure her to the ceremony under false pretenses. I also don’t want her fucking stepbrother knowing I’m taking more than just her virginity.
Once I have her in front of the priest, she won’t be able to escape and will have no choice but to marry me.
Do I feel shitty about being prepared to trick a woman into marrying me?
No. Not one bit.
In my territory, I take what I want. Vittoria will quickly learn to obey me and be a good wife, and in return, she’ll live a life of luxury. She can raise our children while I continue to rule over my empire.
Deciding that Vittoria will become my wife, the corner of my mouth lifts.
Soon, the little deer and all her innocence will be mine.
Chapter 5
Tori
My body aches as I walk into the quiet cathedral. I glance at the empty pews and adjust a couple of hymnals that were just shoved into the holders.
I set down the dish of pasta alla Norma I brought for Father Parisi on one of the benches so my hands are free. Moving to the front, I remove the old flower arrangement from the stand next to the pulpit and carry the wilting bouquet to the kitchen.
I place the wilting bouquet on a counter and quickly grab a trash bag where it’s kept beneath the sink.
Letting out a sigh, I take everything apart so I can dispose of the flowers before making sure the kitchen is clean.
It’s something I do every Tuesday, so Father Parisi doesn’t have to worry about it. Then again, he’d probably leave the flowers right where they are until Rosa brings a fresh arrangement.
After throwing out the flowers, I return to the pews and pick up the pasta dish before heading to Father Parisi’s office.
Gingerly, I rub over the tender spot on my hip where Giorgio kicked me last night.
Refusing to let the thoughts darken one of the few mornings I get away from the house, I let the silence in the cathedral wash over me. I always feel calm when I come here, and today is no different.
Reaching the office, I quickly knock on the door before entering the room. “Morning, Father.”
His head lifts from the paperwork he’s looking at, and a smile forms on his face. “Morning, Tori.”
I meet with Father Parisi every Tuesday to discuss the flower arrangements and what I’ll bake for the parishioners to enjoy after Sunday Mass. The Parish pays for everything, so I don’t have to ask Giorgio for money.
I’m also paid a small fee for my effort that goes toward my feminine products and toiletries.
Taking a seat in front of his desk, I place the pasta dish down on the corner so it’s not in his way.