Two people, one heartbeat and love at first sight...
Sparks fly when the completely shut out mafia gets married to something outside his comfort zone.
Desires and fate compete, but which one wins?
Find out...
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My head is spinning so much now after the number of shots I took yesterday night. Drinking alone does do something crazy to your mood.
It adds more salt to your wounds, like that is crazy but so true.
This was all part of their plan, and by their, I mean my parents.
The renowned Mr and Mrs. Contessa, a couple who has tremendously outdone their peers alright.
Everything kept away from the media were their true ways. Now they have really outdone themselves.
They promised my freedom after law school, and now they intend to get me married.
Who the f--- did they think they were, the president?
Everything that came out of their mouth were lies, I should've known better than to trust these people.
I was to meet up with my soon to be husband later in the day. You know, have dinner and get to do all that, knowing each other shit.
I didn't want to get married, I just wanted to be my own boss. Be something and be proud of that something I am.
That's not going to happen now. The best I can hope for now is that my soon-to-be husband isn't an old freak.
This is just too much to handle.
I get up, shower quickly, and get dressed in comfortable clothes. I won't have to be stuck in a suffocating ball gown and a pair of Jimmy choo heels till evening.
I love the heels, by the way.
I went down for breakfast only to meet my parents. The two people I was trying to avoid.
I pulled out a chair and sat quietly, waiting for my breakfast.
"Good morning, mom. Dad," I say, hoping not to arouse any sort of conversation. I was mad at them, but I still had manners.
Tatty, one maid and a woman who has been like a mother to me, served my breakfast. I greeted her with a kiss on her cheek, making her chuckle slightly.
At least she acted like she valued her child more than my real mother here who couldn't care less.
Everything was different when I was little.
Well, not until my sister ran away with her boyfriend and left me to face the hell of these two monsters that I have to call my parents.
Just as I was about to savour the taste of my bacon served breakfast, the hope I was hoping for backfired.
Ugh!
"How have you been, dear," Mom asked with this sweet tone.
"I was fine till you called me that," I say, not thinking twice. That really grossed me out.
