Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
It just didn’t make sense.
“Are you not going to sit down?”
Riiiight.
She wanted to act posh like all the other girls he dated over the years, but she ended up collapsing in the chair he had pulled out because her knees weren’t giving her much choice.
“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to dinner.”
Oh, she knew. She’d practiced her supportive smile in the mirror until her cheeks hurt. But now that it was time to show that smile she had tried so, so hard to perfect?
Not gonna happen.
All she could do was shake her head while Flavier’s buzzed around them with its usual elegant chaos. Crystal and silver and conversations in three languages. She’d been here dozens of times, but always through the back door. Always invisible. Never sitting at a table that probably cost more to reserve than her mother made in a week.
“My parents have given me an ultimatum.”
Here it comes. The announcement. The name of whichever perfect woman would get to wake up to his face every morning while Sienah changed their sheets.
“If I won’t join the family business—”
Good. He shouldn’t. He was meant to race, not make deals in back rooms. She’d seen enough of that world to know it would destroy the part of him that still smiled real smiles sometimes.
“—they want to make sure I marry a bride of their choice.”
Of course. Strategic marriage. Some ambassador’s daughter or hotel heiress who’d look perfect on his arm at galas. Someone who belonged in his world instead of just cleaning it.
“And you’re on the list.”
Someone accomplished and sophisticated who could discuss wine vintages and...wait.
What?
“You’re on the list,” he repeated, watching her face with that same intense focus he used during qualifying laps.
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. She probably looked like a goldfish having an existential crisis, but her brain had completely short-circuited.
“I don’t...w-what list?” Surely she’d misheard. Surely he meant she was on the list of people to help plan the wedding, or the list of staff to notify, or...
“A list of potential brides my father provided.” He pulled out a folded paper and slid it across the table. “Eight names. Yours is number six.”
She stared at the paper like it might bite her. There, in Selena Cannizzaro’s perfect handwriting, between Ingrid and Perlita, was her name.
Sienah Posada.
The housekeeper’s daughter.
On a list of potential wives for Aivan Cannizzaro.
Her first thought was that this had to be a mistake. Her second was that someone was playing an incredibly cruel joke. Her third was...
Oh.
His father wasn’t horrible at all. His father was brilliant. His father was a visionary. His father was basically a matchmaking genius who deserved a medal and possibly sainthood for having the foresight to include her name.
And yet...
“W-Why?” She had to ask this because it just didn’t make sense. The master’s son and the housekeeper’s daughter? Why? How? What for? Was there some twist he had yet to tell her? Some kind of trap that she couldn’t see? There had to be a catch. Right?
“It’s quite simple.” He leaned back, studying her with those dark eyes that had ruined her for all other men before she’d even had a chance to meet any. “I need to marry. You’re on the approved list. And frankly, you’re the only name that doesn’t make me want to drive into a wall.”
How...romantic?
“I’m also going to be blunt.” His gaze locked on hers, and suddenly the restaurant felt too warm. “I’m aware of your feelings for me.”
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
A part of her had always known she had been about as subtle as a neon sign around him, but to hear it said out loud like that?
I think I’m about to die of embarrassment, God.
So please.
Please tell me I’ll still make it to Heaven if so.
“And I want you to know your feelings won’t be disregarded.”
Her heart, which had been somewhere in her stomach, shot straight up to her throat.
What did that even mean?
Was he saying...
Oh dear God, I honestly don’t understand what he’s saying, but I think it sounds...promising?
“So...what do you think?”
“A-About what?”
“Will you marry me?”
The words hung between them like stars she’d never dared wish on.
Eight names on a list.
And for sure, all the other girls were prettier, posher, and better in just about every way.
And yet Aivan Cannizzaro had chosen...her.
Sienah, the housekeeper’s daughter.
I can’t believe this, God.
I just can’t.
But thank You.
She took a deep breath.
And then she slowly lifted her gaze to his, all the while fighting off the urge to throw herself into his arms because even this early on, she knew...
He would absolutely hate her drawing attention like that.
And so, even with her heart already leaping for joy, and butterflies going crazy in her stomach, Sienah knew that in order to be the best wife for Aivan, she had to put his needs first, which was why, all she could say was...