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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There's nothing worse than having your ribs compacted in a tight corset. How does Emilia expect me to breathe in this thing? Oh, Jesus. I grip the wall, combating against the force of Emilia's haul on my strings. A part of me thinks she's enjoying this—revenge for marrying her crush in two days.
Emilia take him, please.
Save me from my misery.
At that moment, Julian steps in view to reflect in the mirror. His black hair swept back over the matching bandana. When our eyes meet in the mirror, I completely stop breathing. My heart flutters in my bruised ribcage, causing goosebumps to emerge on my skin—heat flares between my thighs.
I feel so scandalous.
To have my crush, my secret lover, a mere five feet away from me on my engagement party day. It's hard not to make googly eyes at Julian and to jump his bones, but I remember what's at stake if I throw caution in the wind. A flush creeps up my neck as Julian's eyes sweep over my frame, lingering on each part, especially my lips.
God, I want h-.
All the air leaves my lungs as Emilia compresses the corset. "Jesus, Emilia! I sure missed you on my three-month vacation."
She scoffs, pinching the flesh on my underarms. "Looks like you have been eating anything you want on your little vacation." Emilia squeezes the dress so tight my boobs are about to fling out of the top. "I'll have to speak to Damien. You'll have to go on a liquid diet if we want you to fit in your wedding dress."
An unexpected sharp ache comes from my back, and I jerk away from her touch. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Do you have to be so rough?"
Emilia chucks the rainbow color pins across the room. "Do you have to be such a cow? Also, take off those ribbons. You look like a five-year-old." She huffs, strolling out of the room.
"Fudge you then," I mutter to myself.
My eyes fall on the mirror. The black lace corset supports a pair of short ruffles on my shoulders, projecting my olive-tone skin. The corset meshes with the breezy fabric, cascading down to the floor. What completes the outfit is the high slit on my thigh. The dress applies pressure to my arms, emphasizing my flappy skin.
Maybe Emilia is right?
I didn't think I'd gained that much weight, but all my clothes had been fitting snugly. My fingers coil around the end of the ribbon, decorating my forefinger with the silver fabric. What's so wrong with it? It's the best way to hide them. No one wants to see what's underneath-- jagged, torn-up skin.
"Bellissima..." His voice comes out like a bittersweet harmony in my ears, his fingers gliding down the slope of my shoulders. "Don't tell me she got to you. You're the most beautiful woman inside and out."
A frown stays plastered on my face. "But they aren't wrong... I have gained a few pounds. My cheeks are squishier."
Julian grabs my cheeks between his two fingers and leans down to nibble on them. "And biteable. It's one of my favorite features." A sly smirk stretches across his face when his palm grabs a handful of my ass. "Along with your thick ass. Anyone who complains about it is a dead man."
