Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
I’ve yet to find a true loyal, loving human being. They don’t exist, at least not in my world.
I heard the sound of the door opening, and the temptation to go back to reading my book was strong, as it was just at a good part. I happened to enjoy reading sex in books. Yeah, I know, I know, but come on, sex in books sounds so amazing. I’d been to a couple of weddings, and the sex in books has screaming that makes the toes curl. The sex in reality sounds like death.
And then the door to my father’s office opened, and I finally got to see the monster everyone I knew feared. Odin Kemp.
He’s tall, there’s no denying that. He does not look like the Devil. Perhaps to some he might be the Devil. He has short, black hair, and I happened to spot a few streaks of grey. He’s not as old as I imagined. Someone who stoked fear should be older, shouldn’t they?
He’s not wearing a suit. Everyone in the Serra Mafia wears a suit. He’s in dark indigo jeans and a crisp white shirt, along with a leather jacket. The shirt is open, and I spot the ink that is up to his neck. I wonder how far down the ink goes.
Odin is far from what I expected.
I happen to lift my gaze, and I’m instantly held to the spot, because he is staring right back at me. No one stares at me. I’m no one. Yet, looking into his deep blue eyes, I have a feeling this man sees me. He doesn’t look away.
“As you can see, these are my daughters,” Roberto said.
I can’t look away. It’s like I’m pulled to look at him, and I hate that nervous feeling. It’s swirling in my core. I’m desperate for him to look away, but this is battle of wills, and he is the one that wins it. I have to avert my gaze. Staring at him is wrong.
Clenching my hands into fists, I held onto the book with a death grip.
Odin is a freedom and a prison at the same time. I know why my sisters want to marry him. He’s not Mafia. His life is not confined by our traditions. He’s an outsider. An outcast.
And yet, right now, for the first time in Serra history, he is the one with all the power. This is why he gets his choice.
In Serra tradition, Viola should be the one marrying him. She’s the oldest daughter, which makes her the prized possession.
Chiara gives him a small smile, and even a little wave.
I stare at the floor. I’ve finally seen him, and that was all I would get.
“Would you like—”
“Her.”
I expect he’s pointed at Chiara. There is silence, but Chiara is not dancing for joy. She’s not letting out her little victory squeal.
So, I have no choice but to lift my head, and when I do, everyone is looking at me.
I feel like a spare part. I have no idea what I’m doing, so I look between them all. “What’s going on?” I asked.
****
Odin
I don’t like the Serra Mafia, however, it is a lot of fun to play with them. I like to play with my toys, and they have been playing my tune for a couple of years now.
They don’t like not being in control. With me, they have no control, and they were running out of options. The moment they asked for a truce, and even offered one of their daughters as payment, I was intrigued.
Of course, they did offer many other families with daughters, but I requested Roberto Marini specifically.
There was only one woman I wanted, and I spotted her the moment I walked into the room. They didn’t have a clue that I held all the cards here. I knew everything about the whole Serra Mafia, including the woman who stood to my left. She had a book tightly clasped in her hand, just as I knew she would. Her long, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her spectacles pushed up her nose. To some, she was nothing more than the ugly Marini sister. Not to me.
From the moment I saw her picture, and the information I had on her, I knew she was different, and that kind of difference made me curious about her. I wanted her. She was going to be mine, and none of them could refuse me.
The middle child, Chiara, who was trouble and didn’t have any qualms about getting men and women killed with her flirting, was not happy.
“I’m sure you’ve made a mistake,” Chiara said.
Alba looked shocked. Her eyes were wide.
Roberto let out a cough. “I’m sure this is funny for you—”
“Do I look like I’m laughing? I can have any woman I want as my wife. She is that woman. Leave us.” They were used to having complete control, but none of them were prepared for me.