Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“Leaving so soon?” Bethany taunts. “It’s probably for the best. Some people just don’t have what it takes to be a designer.”
Both Abella and Mariella come to a screeching halt beside their table, and by default, I do too. Abella looks at me, clearly debating whether she should step in, but I keep thinking back on my conversation with Eros about speaking up in the moment.
I might not have a profound or witty rebuttal, but I still want to say something.
“You know what, Bethany? I was never in competition with you, and it’s sad that you see other women as threats. Because me and my friends clap for each other. We show up—good, bad, highs, or lows, we’re there. My friends are my biggest cheerleaders, and their compliments are genuine. Can you say the same?”
She shifts in her seat as she and her friends cast uncomfortable glances at each other.
“I could wish bad on you too, but I won’t. It looks like you’re already miserable enough all on your own. I hope you get the help you need to fix whatever made you so insecure.”
Her expression falters as one of her friends suppresses a laugh, and for the first time since I’ve known her, Bethany is truly speechless. I leave her there like a fish out of water and walk out with my friends beside me.
We make it all the way outside before we stop, and Mariella glances at the guards.
“Can you give us a moment?”
They nod, walking out of earshot while still keeping an eye on us.
“Gabi, you handled that with so much grace.” Abella meets my gaze, eyes shining with warmth. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up. How did it feel?”
“Well, I’m still shaking and slightly nauseous.” I laugh awkwardly. “But it also feels…good. I want to do that more often, actually. I’m tired of choking down my thoughts and feelings to keep everyone around me comfortable.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Abella says softly. “You learned to survive. But seeing you step into this version of yourself? It’s everything I could ever want for you.”
She tears up, so naturally I do too. Soon, we’re all crying, and instead of being embarrassed like I usually am, it feels cathartic.
“Abella is right.” Mariella wipes the edges of her eyes. “It takes courage to speak up for yourself when the world taught you it wasn’t safe. You don’t have to do it alone. We’ll always have your back.”
“Thank you,” I choke out. “I’m glad you said that because I actually do need your help.”
“What is it?” Abella asks.
“I don’t want to marry Riccardo.”
“Oh, thank God.” She presses a hand to her chest.
“I want to tell him this weekend when we’re at the island, while everyone is there, so I know it’s safe.”
“Of course.” Mariella nods. “We’ll be there for you.”
I rock slightly, nerves twisting inside me as I glance at Abella. “You mentioned before that you could try to talk to Angelo about ending this engagement. It won’t be enough to tell Riccardo. I’ll need protection from Michael’s anger when he finds out.”
“Hang on.” Abella holds up a finger as she rifles through her purse and pulls out her phone.
She presses a couple of buttons and places a video call, and I have a moment of panic when Angelo answers. I didn’t expect her to do it this instant.
“Hello, vita mia.” Abella smiles at the screen.
“You know what that does to me, cara.” Her husband’s voice dips. “Do I need to bend you over my desk again—”
“Oh my God, Angelo,” Mariella groans. “Can you not for five minutes?”
A low laugh rumbles from the speaker before Abella flips the screen to show him that we’re both here.
“Sorry, should have mentioned I have company.” She blushes. “That’s the reason I’m calling, actually. I have a question for you.”
“Then I probably have an answer,” he says smoothly.
“Can you find a way to void the marriage contract between Gabi and Riccardo? Her stepfather won’t let her out of it, so we need help.”
There’s a beat of silence as we wait for his response, which feels like an eternity, but it’s probably only a few seconds.
“Is this what Gabriela wants?”
Abella looks poised to answer, then thinks better of it and turns the phone to me so I can speak for myself. I offer Angelo a very awkward wave—for reasons I can’t explain—before I clear my throat and come right out with it.
“I don’t want to marry him. I know he’s your cousin, but…he’s awful.”
Angelo has always been slightly terrifying, but for a brief moment, I think I see his eyes soften a fraction.
“Okay.”
“Really?” I blurt.
“Something you should know about me, Gabi.” He smirks. “There isn’t a thing I won’t do when my wife asks.”
I smile, because I know that’s true. Still, I thought it would be much harder than that. The Cosa Nostra isn’t exactly known for being flexible, and I truly didn’t know if asking would even get me anywhere. But I think after what Angelo and Abella went through, he’s not quite so rigid about the rules.