I couldn't allow that to happen.
"I have no doubt but now isn't the time to press your luck. I suggest you take a trip out of town."
"And where the fuck would I go?"
He grinned as he patted me on the shoulder. "I have a place that would suit you, especially if you follow through with my other suggestion."
Sighing, I rubbed my forehead, a nasty headache furrowing into my brain. This was all too much to deal with. However, weakness was something that couldn't be tolerated. Getting out of town. The idea wasn't a bad one. "I'll think about it."
"Give me a call. I can arrange it in just a few hours. No one has to know."
The sound of his footsteps echoed as he walked away. I glared at the water in the pool, able to catch a glimpse of my reflection. There was no way of hiding any longer. Dominick was right. I closed my eyes, pushing aside Kelan, the golden boy of Hollywood. Time to become the man my father always wanted me to be.
A monster. Francesca
"You look beautiful, although the scowl on your face is horrific."
I studied the girl standing in front of the floor-length mirror, loathing the dress, the coiffed hair, and the fact I was getting married in little over an hour. I could see Dana hovering behind me, fluffing the ridiculously long train for the fifth time. As if it wasn't going to get crumpled on the car ride over. "I feel like a heifer." This was exactly what my father would want for his little princess.
Dana rolled her eyes before walking toward the small vanity, grabbing my glass of champagne. "I think you need this. Maybe I should order another bottle."
I yanked the crystal stem out of her hand, tossing it back and chugging almost the entire glass. I knew her eyes remained on me, could hear the slight groan under her breath. She even darted a third glance at the pistol positioned under my purse. She had no idea why I needed protection. She'd been my best friend for years, almost the first person I'd met after coming to America to attend college. She also knew how much I loathed the person I was supposed to marry.
She had no idea about my dangerous family.
"Do you mean because I was coerced into an arranged marriage?" I asked in a sarcastic manner.
"Hey, at least the guy is rich. He has real estate all over the world, several cars. The honeymoon to Fiji? And he's pretty good-looking."
"Uh-huh." I realized in the years I'd been in the United States, I felt more at home here than in Italy. I'd even lost a significant portion of my accent, more from trying than anything. Granted, I'd had the finest education, learning several languages by the time I was ten, but what good had that actually done me?
Marrying a pompous, ugly jerk like Vincenzo Saltori meant giving up my freedom. I knew all about the asshole's reputation. I'd heard all the horrific stories of his craving for all things kink. The two-week whirlwind 'romance' had been orchestrated down to the letter, the marriage suddenly a requirement. While he'd never laid a hand on me up to this point, tonight would change everything. My stomach churned at the thought.
The wretched man thought he was going to own me, punishing me like some bad little girl if I didn't obey his every order.
Fuck. Him.
No man had ever disciplined me and if the asshole tried, I would cut off his hand. I was considered royalty in Italy, my family revered by so many. I closed my eyes, envisioning my fabulous prince arriving to our wedding in a horse-drawn carriage, waiting to sweep me into his arms, promising to love and protect.
Not forcing me to yield to his every command.
I walked past her, cringing as the satin and yards of netting made a swishing noise.
I hated the dress.
I hated the man.
I hated my life.
And I was stuck.
Yes, I'd been pampered as a child, believing everything my father told me, but I certainly didn't deserve this. I could remember the worlds of my father calling me a princess, a beautiful work of art. All of Italy had referred to me that way.
I poured a hefty amount, sloshing over the rim, chuckling as the bubbles floated down the sides of the glass. I'd rather remain sexless than go to bed with the wretched asshole. Of course, I'd become a wealthy woman on paper after the nuptials were finalized, my trust fund released, but I already knew that I'd have no control over my own money.
There'd been no way I could say no.
To add insult to injury, Vincenzo had made certain to explain the rules. Every. Single. One. Of. Them.
Including full obedience.
I loathed dominating control freaks. There was no way my father knew how controlling Vincenzo anticipated being. No way in hell.
Yes, I would make my father happy and follow along with the family honor. I understood the semantics, but the reality was entirely different. I'd seen something odd in my father's eyes when he begged me to do this. I knew that combining the assets of the families was a perk. Expanding the combined businesses was the ultimate goal, but I wasn't fool enough to believe that was all there was at stake. Sadly, I'd never be allowed to find out the real price for my hand in marriage, but I suspected the reasons.
Power.
Greed.
Blackmail.
I just had to prove it, and what if I did? What could I do?
"We need to leave for the church soon," Dana said in a hushed tone. When I didn't answer, she laughed nervously. "Or I could hire someone to cart you off, taking you to a fabulous deserted island. You know, a buff and beautiful man. You could live happily ever after raising babies."
I gave her a wistful smile. "That sounds fabulous. Minus the brats though. I'm not ready for children. Maybe never." My sweet friend had never seen my bitchy side, the entitled princess that I'd been called so many times. I'd promised myself that I was going to change, pushing aside Daddy's money and I'd succeeded, living off everything I made alone. I'd atoned for being such a brat. Hadn't I?