Her Overprotective Fiance – An Arranged Marriage for the Mafia Boss Read Online Marian Tee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
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What the hell is she talking about?

"I've always been me—-"

"But for a time, didn't you just see yourself as that girl who was almost raped?"

Yes.

"But that's no longer the case, isn't it?" Maryse presses.

Yes.

"It hasn't been so for a long time."

Yes.

Every word she's said is true. I just don't get why I never realized—-

"But you only realized you're you again when Giancarlo forced you to see the truth—-"

No. No. No.

Everything in me recoils from the case Maryse's trying to make.

"You're no different from the other girls now, Sari."

The fuck I'm not!

"You feel the same things other girls your age do. The idea of sex may have seemed distasteful and scary to you before, but that's no longer true, is it? You probably imagined you'll never fall in love or experience attraction even, but Giancarlo—-"

"What if it's not him?" The desperation in my tone makes me cringe internally, but all I want, all I need is to prove her wrong. "It's possible, right? That maybe I did heal, but it doesn't mean he has anything to do—-"

"Oh, Sari."

I hate, hate, hate when she says my name like I'm about to be schooled.

"There's no such thing as coincidence. The outside world may still believe it's so, but you and I are famiglia. We know better."

And that's exactly what ends up happening.

"Coincidence is not real. And so it was no accident that Giancarlo was the man who saved you. It was no accident that he brought you to La Torre. And it's no accident still that he's the one who now leaves you breathless—-"

"Maybe...maybe I have asthma! Ever thought about that?"

"Or maybe you're simply grasping straws now—-" Maryse fires back without missing a beat, "since you're too chicken to face the truth?"

Did I really just hear what she said?

Me?

A fucking chicken?

Me?

"I—-you—-"

"—-need to grow up and face the facts."

Oh, shit.

It's the Angel of Death talking now, and just like that, all I can do is listen—-

"Other women have had to spend the rest of their days trapped in their nightmares. Their lives are nothing but an endless cycle of pain and abuse. But you're different. You're healed. So stop acting like an ungrateful wimp and start living."

Because everything she says is true like always.

"You're healed, Sarica. And that's why your heart has been able to figure out what your stubborn mind refuses to admit."

Which is what?

"Your heart wants someone who's the opposite of those who have tried to hurt you. And I'm not just talking about the Martinos. I'm also talking about your own father and everyone else who's failed you. Your heart wants someone who's not and will never be like them. Someone who's honorable. Someone who's capable of feeling empathy and remorse. Someone who doesn't mind showing his faults and vulnerability—-"

I look at her blankly. "Are you saying my heart wants a man who's soft?"

Maryse looks like she's dying to be her old mercenary self again, just so she can squeeze the life out of me.

A budding amateur armchair therapist, she definitely isn't, but since I'm too proud to ask for counseling even though I know the Marchettis would be more than happy to pay for it—-

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm not trying to be a smartass or anything. I just don't really get—-"

"Your heart wants someone you can trust," Maryse spells out.

Oh.

"So tell me. Who do you think that is?"

Reward

I BITE BACK AN EXPLETIVE when I see good old Francisco waiting by the limo, with Cat already slipping into the backseat.

Great, just great.

Francisco is tough and lovely, which are the two best things for a bodyguard to be. But as a chauffeur though?

Cat and I automatically reach for the grab handles, and as soon as Francisco steps on the gas, the rollercoaster ride to the hotel commences.

Francisco checks on us through the rearview mirror with a jovial grin. "All good?"

Cat nods with a smile, and I flash him a thumbs-up sign.

He keeps us safe, 'Nuff said, and in the world we live in, knowing your priorities is key.

"Signora and the boys are already there," Francisco informs us. "Cat, Signora Marchetti expects you to attend the meeting as well and take notes."

"And me?" I ask archly.

"She has also given you a task," Francisco confirms.

"Don't get into trouble?" I ask sarcastically.

The older man chuckles. "I told you from the start, didn't I? You and the signora will get along perfectly."

Grrr.

Cat glances at me at that moment, and her pensive expression already has my hackles rising even when she's yet to say a word.

"What?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you." Cat remains unfazed despite my belligerence, and it makes me feel I've just wasted two seconds of my life.

This is Cat, after all. If I'm like a walking Do Not Disturb sign, she's the opposite. Impossible To Disturb.

"What has gotten into you lately?" the other girl asks.


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