Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
But to keep her safe, I'll make her my wife, regardless of whether she wants it or not. Our marriage may be arranged, but my ring on her finger will serve as protection from this dangerous life.
I already know my path, and it’s a dark one. The family reign that I’m to take over will always be dangerous. But the closer I get to Tova the more I realize she’s the only light to the darkness that cloaks me.
Watching her may have been my initial plan, but loving her is now why I live. The only thing is, I’d give my life for my family but I won’t give hers.
This is the first book in the A New Reign Series. No cheating, no OW drama, and an HEA is always guaranteed! Each will be standalone
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
TOVA
“Marks,” I warn in a low whisper. Don't die, don't die, I chant over and over in my head.
“I’m cracked, but I’ll make it.” Crap. I’m not sure I believe that, but I keep my mouth shut. If anyone can, she can, though. “I’m going in.” I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t say that’s a terrible idea because what the hell do I know? I’m dead!
“Heal off!” I warn again.
“Not this time, motherfucker.” Marks’ voice is filled with glee before two quick shots strike the target. The body drops. “I'm a big clip that!” Marks shouts, making me pull my headset away from my ear for a second. “Get rekt.” Marks lets out an evil laugh that has me letting out a small one. “Take your L.”
I think Marks enjoys shit-talking more than playing the game. I'm not a giant fan of the game, but she always talks me into playing with her. She carries me. I don't know why I ever doubted her. The girl is a killer shot, hence the nickname Marks. She never misses her mark.
A knock sounds at my door a few seconds before it opens partially, my dad poking his head in. I pull my headphones off.
“Can your mom and I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He gives me a nod; his mouth forms a tight line, making me think something is wrong. I slip my headset back on.
“My parents want to talk. I’ll hit you up later?”
“I’ll be here,” Marks singsongs as I flip off my PlayStation.
Marks and I have been friends for a few years now. We met in an online book club. Both of us loved the same books, so we were always recommending ones to each other. Our friendship blossomed from there. We can be so opposite at times but also the same.
I place my headset on the dresser before pulling on a sweater. Dread forms in my stomach because this isn’t normal. If Mom or Dad wanted to talk to me about anything or let me know something, they’d simply come into my room and sit down. The fact that they asked me to come and talk to both of them means this is bigger than normal.
Our talks like this seem to always be connected to the Marino family. The first time my parents ever had a conversation this serious with me was when I was in high school. That time I’d been informed that we were moving. So I’m guessing this is something of that magnitude.
No one wants to hear that they are moving in the middle of high school, but it turned out better than I expected. We moved out of our small apartment into a cute home on the Marino estate, but everyone refers to this place as “the farm”. It does have a farmy feel to it with all the land around us, but we’re not far from the city.
There are a handful of small houses on the farm, a few barns, and sheds. Then there is the main house, which is massive. That is where the Marino family stays when they are in town. Mr. and Mrs. Marino used to stay here more often, but over the past couple of years have traveled more and spent a lot of time in Europe.
They have four adult children. Three are men, and the other is a daughter about my age, but she is also never around much; she’s mostly off at school. It’s the three brothers that are most often here. War being the oldest of them.
He is in charge, slowly taking over for his father. That’s the vibe I get, anyway, and vibes are all you can get when it comes to them because you’re not supposed to ask. Hell, you shouldn’t even be paying attention. Mind your own business is the motto around here when it comes to the Marinos. That was instilled in me from the start by my parents.
It didn’t take long for me to put together that the Marino family might not live by the letter of the law. Which means my dad must not either. He does, after all, work for them. Our lives have shifted dramatically since we came to live on the farm. Mostly for the good. We no longer go without, and there is no more counting every penny.
When I enter the living room, my mom and dad are on the couch, my mom whisper-yelling at my dad. She cuts off when she sees me, giving me a warm smile. This must be bad. It’s not often, if ever, that I see them fight.
I’m guessing this isn’t about the trip I asked to take the other day. I want to go visit Marks. There is no way I could ask if she could visit here. Everyone has to pass through the gate to enter the farm. This place is a fortress. Let’s just say the Marinos don’t like strangers coming and going.