Strong-willed, badass and bounded by the chains of an arranged marriage, Isabela Arias dreams of the freedom to live and love as she chooses.
Being sold to the Italian mafia wasn't exactly on Isabela's to do list...
As she's forced to navigate the r...
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Vomit profuse out of my throat, burning my esophagus as I grip the sides of the toilet. I've been at it for the last ten minutes. The five shots and lemon drops didn't mesh well in my system. Puke expels from my nose, making it difficult to breathe. Why do people like getting drunk? It freaking sucks!
A violent thud pounds on the door. "Hurry the fuck up!"
I gasp, on the verge of tears from all the puking. "Give me a goddamn second!"
"Fuck this!" The sudden slam causes my body to flinch, straightening up. Reflex. From all the times Damien would slam the door shut and unleash his wrath on me.
My stomach settles. The buzz wore off after my fifth puke. I collapse by the cabinets, resting my back and catching my breath as I flush the toilet. Gosh! I can't believe I stood in front of Julian in only my bathing suit. How awkward!
Whatever.
At least, I can say I tried.
I wanted Julian to be my first, but he won't budge. I can't wait any longer. After our graduation ceremony, I won't have another chance to see Jaxon. It's now or never. Groaning as I hoist myself using the counter, I gargle mouthwash and spit it into the sink. My pores are enormous from all the sweat, but luckily boys don't notice a difference.
Digging into my purse, I outline my lips with the nude pink gloss and press them together. The corset top fits my body like a glove, demanding attention at my pushed-up breasts. You got this, Isabela. Men are like equations-- we do them.
Once I flick the lock open, the door swings with force, striking me in my forehead, knocking me down. A smearing pain heightens on my forehead. Couldn't even give me a second to leave myself? I blink, trying to process the fact that I've been hit in the head, when I hear the faint sound of someone pissing in the toilet.
"Fucking finally," he cheers, emptying himself in the toilet.
What a gentleman. With a deep breath, I grip the rim of the counter and stand up to face the blonde, bouncing up and down as he zips up his jeans. My eyes go round like saucers when Jaxon turns around. He's the jerk that's been screaming at me for the past half an hour? I guess I understand.
I would be annoyed if I had to pee too.
"Isabela." Jaxon licks his lips. "I have been looking for you all night. I started to think you couldn't come."
I lightly chuckle. "Funny. I was also looking for you."
Jaxon's eyes sweep over my frame, lingering on my cleavage before clearing his throat. "Why don't we go to one of the bedrooms? For some privacy."
My pulse thumps under my skin. "Sure. I would love to chat where no one can bother us."
He slips his hand in mine, weaving us through the packed hallways, knocking on a few doors until he finds a vacant room. It's a standard room. A cozy flurry blanket conceals the white mattress. The gold pillows lay horizontally on the rim. A light beige bench stands ahead of the bed frame.
