Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
He offers me a stiff nod, and it sets me on edge. Together, Silvio and Rosa Vitale raised six sons and one daughter. Matteo is Angelo’s fraternal twin, born second, and it’s a role that’s plagued most aspects of his life. All the Vitale men seem to have been molded after gods. But for every quality Angelo possesses, Matteo’s have always been slightly less. He isn’t quite as tall, nor as muscular. He has brown eyes like his brother, but while Angelo’s are dark and beautiful in a mysterious way, Matteo’s fall flat. On his own, he’s handsome, but next to Angelo, he may as well be a lamppost.
I’ve never felt a riot of butterflies when I look at him, and since I rebuffed his drunken attempt to kiss me, there’s been an unmistakable shift in him. Up until that point, he’d always been a loyal friend, and he respected our situation for what it was. Our engagement was a mutually agreed-on farce that would come to a natural conclusion when he found a more suitable bride. However, six years on, that still hasn’t happened.
“Abella.” My father stubs out his cigar and spares me a disinterested glance. “The time has come for you to fulfill your duty. You will wed Matteo in two weeks’ time.”
My knees nearly buckle as the weight of those words bears down on me. An instinctive refusal settles on my lips, but I can’t give voice to it. My father harbors no love for me. His only role in my life is to act as warden, and he’s an empty well as far as sympathy is concerned.
I glance at Matteo with the misguided hope he’ll say or do something. Surely, he couldn’t have agreed to this. We had an understanding, and for him to go back on his word is a betrayal. But worse than that is the inevitable failure he’s setting me up for.
“Papà, may I have a word with Matteo in private?” I force the request through gritted teeth.
“You may have as many as you like,” he grunts. “The deal is done.”
A lump lodges in my throat as I gesture for Matteo to follow me to the sitting room. His footsteps echo behind me, beating a heavy cadence across the tile floor. My father would expect me to offer him a drink or other refreshment, but the moment we’re alone, my hospitality goes out the window.
“What are you doing?” I hiss under my breath. “You know we can’t go through with this. We had a deal.”
“Abella.” His eyes move over my face as if he’s searching for something he knows he won’t find. “You have to trust me. This is for your protection.”
“My protection?” I stare at him incredulously. “You have a duty to maintain the treaty with the Stavros family.”
He drags a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m aware.”
“Then you’re also aware that nothing has changed.” My voice rises, despite my efforts to keep my composure. “This isn’t going to work.”
“You know I’ve always had your best interest in mind. I wouldn’t have proposed this if I didn’t have a plan.”
“So what is it?” I demand, already knowing it’s a waste of my breath.
“All you need to know is that I have everything under control.”
“This concerns both our families.” I gesture toward my father’s office. “Have you forgotten the magnitude of this situation?”
His eyes burn a slow path over my body, distracting him from the conversation. Whatever he’s thinking about is a world apart from the discussion I’m trying to have. I’d have to be oblivious not to have noticed that Matteo has developed a problematic affection for me over the course of our years-long engagement. The signs have been there every time I brought up the subject of ending this arrangement. Over time, he’s stopped hiding it. I’d hoped it was a fleeting crush that would pass, but I never thought he’d actually force my hand, especially when he knows what’s at stake.
“You can’t wife me just to bed me,” I tell him. “I have nothing to offer you in the way of love or anything else, Matteo. You know I can’t give you what you need.”
“Who said anything about love?” His lips press into a grim line. “Do you think I have time to think about such trivialities? I need a wife, not a fairy tale.”
“It was never supposed to be me,” I protest. “This is why I told you we should have called it off a long time ago.”
He takes a step closer, and I straighten my spine.
“When are you going to let him go?” he asks. “It’s been six years, Abella.”
“This isn’t about Angelo.”
“It’s always about Angelo.” He releases a frustrated breath. “Do you really think there was ever any other option here? He’s not coming back, and even if he did, you can’t give him what he needs. He’s moved on, and you need to do the same.”