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AdalinaI haven’t spoken to anyone, not even my father, in two days. The only people I have seen are my father’s bodyguards bringing me meals on a tray. My face, arms and legs are covered in dark bruises. The wedding gown will hide most of them. Except for the ones on my face. I refuse to cover them up, I will wear them proudly and show the world what my father does to me behind closed doors.I get ready for my wedding day alone. No makeup artist, no hairstylists, nothing. No reception, no family—just a quick church ceremony. No photographer, no flowers, no bridesmaids. I slip into the wedding gown and style my hair. I do not wear the wedding veil; I want my face to be seen. I am ready to embrace what lies ahead in my future.The two days in solitary confinement have given me time to think. Time to plan. I will marry Mario and sleep with him on our wedding night. I have to in order to keep Delphina safe. When Mario is not around, I will access the email, information, new identities, a
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Nikolai Once we arrive at the compound, I guide Adalina upstairs to our bedroom. My gaze lingers on her, and I feel a shift in my heart. It feels lighter, no longer burdened. Leaning in, I press my lips against hers, my arms encircling her waist. She responds eagerly and wraps her arms around my neck.In that moment, everything else fades away as I surrender to the overwhelming passion, I feel for Adalina. This intense connection is unlike anything I have ever experienced before, and I can no longer deny or ignore these feelings.As we part from the kiss, I express with conviction, “You’re mine. You belong to me. And I belong to you.”The next morning, I find out which hospital Gwen Vincenzio was taken to. As I enter the ICU waiting area, I spot Paul sitting with a few unfamiliar faces. Bobby is absent, most likely at his wife’s side.“Paul, how is Gwen?” I inquire.Paul rises from his seat an
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Epilogue 1 As we step off the private jet, my heart flutters with excitement. Las Vegas—the city of lights, the city of dreams— it is the perfect destination for our wedding, a place where magic and passion intertwine.Nikolai had arranged a limousine to take us to our hotel. As we drive down the Las Vegas strip, I am amazed at all the lights and scenery. Nikolai takes my hand and tells me, “You’re going to be my wife.”I blush; it still feels like a dream. “I never thought this would happen, especially after everything we’ve been through.”Nikolai smiles and squeezes my hand. “You’ve changed my perspective on relationships. I never imagined feeling this way about someone. You’ve become the most important person in my life.”Tears fill my eyes as I tell him, “I never thought I would find someone who accepts me for who I am, flaws and all. With you, I feel safe and cherished.”Nikolai leans in and whispe
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ElizaMistakes don’t happen, only happy accidents.I press my paintbrush against the canvas, elongatingthe bright white streak until it’s stretched to the edge. There, now it looks like it’s supposed to be that way, a blur of light against the bleak New York sky.It’s a happy accident, not a mistake. There are no mistakes.I breathe a judgmental laugh out of my nose as I watch a woman come out of the luxury boutique with so many bags she can hardly carry them. Her expression is one of pure annoyance, as though the world has cursed her with so much money.How can someone have so much, yet be so ungrateful? Is that also a happy accident?There must be something I’m missing. They say money can’t buy happiness, but being broke hasn’t bought me anything at all.Except some half-used tubes of oil paint, a simple canvas, and a shoebox apartment that I’m about to miss my rent on if I can’t sell any of my artwork. It’s hard to feel grateful for anyof that, but not being grateful would only p
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LevMid-twenties?”“Something like that, with ginger hair just aboveher shoulders and lips like a red candy apple,” I reply, tapping the ash off the end of my cigar.“Not on the floor, fucking dickhead. I told you about that,” my uncle Valentin says, coughing as he shakes his head. He’s had that cough since I was born. I swear I remember it from the day my mother first brought me home.“It’s marble. It’ll come off with a quick mop,” I reply, waving my cigar over the gallery floor. A few extra ash flakes flutter down.Valentin curses under his breath, glaring at the ash like it’s a cockroach. “I can never have anything nice with you around. I’m sure you scared that girl off the moment you opened your mouth. No twenty-something artist wants anything to do with an old man like you. Those days are over.”“Maybe for you,” I mutter, puffing smoke into the spacious room. Valentin has been hounding me to stop smoking in here, talking about the smoke yellowing the paintings, but nobody comes
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ElizaI’m shaking so hard that I can barely hold my phone. I can’t believe this is happening. The money is real and it’s in the bank, my rent is paid, and he’s coming back with moreonce I finish his painting!I almost want to run out to the boutique and work on it under the light of the moon, just to get it finished sooner. My excitement comes not only from my ability to make more money, but also from seeing Lev again.Oh my god, he’s so handsome. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man with a jaw so powerful and pronounced. And those eyes… Fuck, he could electrocute me with them and I’d probably have an orgasm from the pain.Nothing like Noah. Oh, good God, no. I don’t even want to compare the two.My mind is racing. I can’t think straight.I sit down on my bed, looking out the window and wondering how many people are out there tonight, falling in love, breaking up, getting drunk, sobering up. In my little hometown, once the clock struck midnight, nobody was out but the sheriff. If you w
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ElizaIpush my hair behind my ear as I put the finishing touches on the painting outside the boutique. I’ve been anticipating Lev, but he hasn’t made an appearance. Of course, hewouldn’t just show up here again for no reason, but I feel like I need to be prepared in case he does.Maybe he forgot something, one last luxury item to grab from the store on a rare sunny autumn afternoon. I wonder what he does for a living to afford such expensive things. I’ve been in that store once, more out of curiosity than anything, and I couldn’t believe the prices.Of course, everything is quite beautiful, but in what universe is it normal for jeans to cost a thousand dollars? In my hometown, you’d get them from the little shop down between the pancake place and the postal service, and they’d always be priced the same – $19.99. That never changed in the ten years I was shopping there.I’d be lucky to get a pair for ten times that here, but I’m probably not going to be doing any shopping for a long
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LevIt’s a cute place, warm and small like Eliza. I think it fits her well, but I have to duck to get through the doorway, and the slanted walls make it even more difficult for me tomove with ease.“It’s not much, but I’m working with what I got,” Eliza says with a nervous laugh, making her way to the stove. “Would you like some tea?”That’s an invitation to stay longer, and I’d die before saying no to her. I don’t know why, but I feel the need to be close to her, to learn everything about her, inside and out. Maybe it’s the innocent way she pouts her lips, or the inviting swing of her slender hips.She has a body like a dancer. I bet she knows how to move when she’s on top.“I’d love some tea,” I say, snapping out of my perversion for the briefest of moments before my eyes begin following her body again.Perfect waist, perfect breasts, perfect everything. It almost makes me angry that a woman can look so good and not even realize it. Valentin would laugh at me, but I legitimately be
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