Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
She had never been mean or forced anything from anyone. She had always been kind and sweet. Those were the qualities her father used to sell her to Diego. He always said her kindness reminded him of her mother. Her mother had been a free spirit as well, even after she married her father.
Phill didn’t know what to do, but one thing was clear. If he allowed her to drive to her father’s alone, Diego would kill him. The problem was, she had no idea how to drive a car. It was one of the few things her father refused to teach her, and she had a pretty good idea why. She wouldn’t have stuck around. He was worried she would find some reason to drive away from this life, and he wasn’t wrong. There were so many times she had sat in a car with the very intention of driving away. That was all she wanted to do—drive away and be free.
Instead, she listened and now she was married to a pig of a man, who saw her as a boring doormat. Actually, that wasn’t completely correct, because apparently, a doormat could have some fun slogans or something funny on it. Not her. She was dull.
Phill opened the car door, and she grabbed it.
“Get behind the wheel, and start the damn car,” she said.
She knew a lot of fake plays. She had a feeling he intended for her to get into the car, where he would lock the door and go and get Diego. Liana was not going to be sitting in the back. She was sitting right up front with him.
Phill looked doubtful but he rounded the car. She could pretty much see him attempting to figure out what he was supposed to do. Liana waited for him to get behind the wheel, and the ignition turned over. Only then did she slam the door closed and climb into the front seat.
“Miss, this is not appropriate.”
She looked at Phill. “Drive me to my father’s and pray on the way there that I don’t convince him to shoot you.”
Liana would never do such a thing. The threat was all she needed, and Phill didn’t argue with her. He pushed his foot on the gas, and Liana made a note that as soon as possible, she intended to learn how to drive so she could make her escape at any time.
Phill didn’t need to be told directions. They were at Giovanni and Mia’s home for the party. So, it would only be a short ride to get to her father’s. Twenty minutes tops in the car.
She couldn’t believe what she had heard.
“So, Diego, tell me how is married life? We’ve all shared our secrets about our wives. Come on, spill,” Emilo said.
“What is there to tell? Liana is ... great. Yeah, she is great if you like them completely compliant, not bending any rules, and like a puppy with a bone. Honestly, she is a fucking doormat, and no matter what I say, she agrees with me. Which is great, because at least she doesn’t give me a fucking headache with all the nagging.”
“A doormat?”
“Nah, you’re right. A doormat has its uses and can be fucking funny. My wife is none of those things and boring as hell.”
She was pretty sure he said more, but for now, she was not going to think about it. They arrived at her father’s house in exactly twenty minutes. Liana climbed out of the car and told Phill he could leave. Liana had no doubt where he would go.
Rushing to her father’s main door, she went to open it, only it was locked. He never locked his door. Slamming her hand against it, she reached for the doorbell and rang it. She kept ringing it until the door finally opened. It wasn’t Pete, his butler, but her father, Enzo Valentino.
“You lied!” she said, glaring at her father.
She hated that her eyes had glazed over as she turned to look at her father.
“Honey?”
“You told me if I was a good girl, if I complied and followed his stupid rules and was amenable, it would make for a good marriage. He hates me. He thinks I am a doormat, and it’s all your damn fault.”
She wanted to scream and hit him. Instead, she ran right past him, throwing off her heels, which she tossed to the side. She took the stairs two at a time, rushing to her old bedroom that she hadn’t seen in two months. The moment she was inside, she slammed the door closed and locked it.
This had been home for twenty-one years, up until six months ago, when she was forced to marry someone she didn’t love—a man she didn’t want anything to do with.
Tears fell down her face as she looked around her bedroom and saw nothing had changed. She didn’t know if that made her happy or sad, considering she felt like a completely different person.