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Chapter 7
Chapter 7: We all want bad boys
The bride's room is like a fairy tale, with high ceilings and gilded mirrors. I can smell the delicate scent of roses wafting from the vase on her dresser. The heavy brocade drapes are pulled closed, casting the room in deep shadows. It's seven in the evening, and I find myself pacing around in my room, biting on my lower lip. I am nervous.
Why wouldn't I be when I am getting engaged to the biggest mafia clan in the whole of New York? Ever since my parents confession a week ago, it has been a shopping spree for the marriage. And I still don't know what my groom looks like. I refused to see a photograph of him until today.
Is he ugly or handsome?
I wonder. What will his hands feel like? Will my heart beat fast like it did at t
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