Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
No, she was giddy. Giddy with love.
“So chile, I had never seen Genesis drunk before! She took her shoes off and ran down the street!” They all laughed as her best friend entertained everyone with at times embarrassing but funny stories. She drifted inside the folds of her daydreams as everyone in the room continued to talk and joke with another…
This is it. This is my wedding day. She glanced at herself in the mirror behind her and smiled. Her hair was done—half up, half down. Her veil was covered in crystals atop her head, her gown hugging her curves like a bend in a country road, and everything was on, tugged and pulled tight, except for her earrings and shoes. A boom of laughter filled the room as her Aunt Nora talked about how her husband had fallen asleep at their wedding reception back in 1994.
While she thought about her own husband-to-be…
Roman had been on his best behavior at the final cake tasting and rehearsal, and he was simply wonderful to her, even allowing her to choose which house out of the two they were most interested in. She was given the go-ahead for the final decision. Since they both were control freaks, she knew that this was a gift from him to her. She chose a beautiful estate in the River Oaks area and couldn’t wait to begin decorating it. Roman’s penthouse, he decided to turn into an Airbnb. He was always brainstorming ways to bring in more money, so this was right up his alley.
She looked at herself in the mirror again, and her smile faded…
She felt no sadness, but her stomach knotted in worry. Roman had awoken her one night while she rested in his bed and told her that he had to put a stop to his grandfather’s shenanigans. He didn’t give specific details and begged her not to press him about it, but assured her that he hadn’t killed the man. He claimed all she had to do was trust that the matter was settled. When he disappeared into the bathroom, she began softly crying, for her heart knew exactly what had happened. Someone definitely got hurt, and he was the culprit. He had a gun in his bag after all, and he was a Marine. Roman was a jokester, but not one to give idle threats. He abhorred being bossed around or told what to do, and knowing the little that she did, she realized that her man’s rage had played out in some unforgettable way. Regardless, whatever he’d done seemed to work.
There was no need for any of his cousins to continue following her to work and around town, and in fact, they’d received a wedding present from his grandfather that Roman insisted she not open just yet. She hoped it wasn’t a damn bomb. He assured her that whatever it was, it couldn’t be that. He seemed rather certain of it, too.
She loved him so deeply, she could not see herself without him, regardless of how he decided to handle a treacherous, difficult domestic situation. He’d never been violent to her or any other woman, to her knowledge. In fact, she felt completely safe in his arms.
This time, she didn’t pry into the details because she wanted to remain in her bubble, but bubbles were clear—being in one didn’t mean she couldn’t see plainly out onto the other side… Her soul knew the truth, her heart knew the deal, and her mind was open to it—that was enough.
Shaking the thoughts away, she slipped on her high heels, placed on her other earring, and practically burst into tears when her father knocked on the door and was allowed inside. She ran to him, and he hugged and squeezed her tight in his big arms.
“My baby is getting married,” was all he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he tightened their embrace. She felt a warm hand on her back. Then she smelled the all too familiar sweet perfume that had filled her home during her childhood. It was Mama, taking part in the love fest…
Roman sat in the back of the limousine with a large, shiny gold box, a bow on it, as well as a blank card with no signature. However, when it had arrived at his penthouse, he noted that the return address belonged to Cyrus Wilde. Mystery solved. He looked out the window, taking note of the guests, arriving one after the other. A stab of guilt warmed his chest when he reflected on how he couldn’t tell his bride where he’d been, and what he’d been doing the last time he’d seen the freeze dried son of a bitch.
Shoving the guilt aside, he tore into the box. In case there was a dead animal, severed hand, or some other unfortunate grotesque display of hatred, he wanted to be sure that Genesis never saw it. Once open, he rifled through the tissue paper and finally saw his old journal, which sat there along with an envelope.