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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The date has been set.
A week from today.
It's a new type of revelation to have a knowledge of how much longer I have on this planet. Seven days. Only so many hours left in my last week, and Lorenzo demands to train me. The odds aren't incredibly in my favor, but death beats sticking around with Damien. I vote for going head first.
Who needs training?
I say, let the odds be in our favor.
I've faced death plenty of times — what's another one?
Confusion washes over me at the metal chain wrapped around the gym's entrance. Did Jota make a wrong turn or something? It's bad enough that Lorenzo rented a gym in the sketchiest part of town.
Shrugging, I press my shoulder against the door, scraping the metal door against the ground. My face cringes from the frequency of the sound. The yellow-tint lightbulbs flicker in the open space as if it's about to shut off any second now. The aroma of dust and sweat consumes my nose. Blue benches rest against the raised boxing ring in the center of the room. There are black-color ropes spread around the room like a train route, plus one attached to the ceiling to climb.
On my walk through the room, I almost slam into a beaten-down, blue punching bag, dust flying off from my light tap against it. I cough, slapping the particles away from my face. My eyes widen at the sight of a lengthy bucket filled to the tippy-top with water. I wonder what that is for-- water breaks?
"Is the Jefe in the making ready for day one?" Lorenzo announces, walking into the light with arms extended for a hug. The faint illumination does wonders to obscure his sculptured body. Someone get this man a t-shirt. "Sorry, I'm a bit sweaty. I got a head-start while I waited for your lazy ass to get out of bed."
Lorenzo presses a quick kiss on my cheek.
I groan. "The only place my ass should be is in bed. I wasn't made to work out. I get tired after two flights of stairs."
He plops onto the bench, resting his legs on opposite sides of the beams. "I'm digging the confidence, love, but you're up against stiff competition. Did you drink the protein shake I left you?"
My stomach churns. "Yeah, it tasted like complete shit. How do you enjoy drinking that?"
Lorenzo leans back on his forearms, emphasizing the tone eight pack he has as a stomach. "Beauty is pain, love."
I force a fake smile. "Good thing I'm already beautiful."
Lorenzo turns slightly, hiding his smile as he drags his palm down his face. "You got me there. But the protein shake is for your muscle gains. You need more muscle on those bones."
A burst of irritation shoots through me. "Listen, I don't need your input on my body. I get enough from your brother."
His eyebrows knit in confusion. "You're misinterpreting me. Muscle defines your body." He stalks over to me, his hand snaking around my waist, and yanks me closer to him. My chest tightens. "How stupid would I be to change your body? If it wasn't obvious, I'm crazy about it." My breath hitches as he glides his finger up the slope of my hip. "My job is to increase your strength."
