Arranged for the Assassin (Curvy for Darkness Instalove Romance Novellas Book 1) by Annabelle Winters

Arranged for the Assassin (Curvy for Darkness Instalove Romance Novellas Book 1) by Annabelle Winters

Author:Annabelle Winters [Winters, Annabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-20T16:00:00+00:00


11

THREE WEEKS LATER.

WEDDING DAY.

AMELIA

Fate failed us.

Destiny deserted us.

Here I am alone in the bride’s dressing room, waiting for the clock to strike noon like I’m waiting to be led to the gallows of my execution, not the altar of my wedding.

Zedd wasn’t invited to the wedding, and I’m relieved even though my heart died last night when we said our final goodbyes. It was my last night in my warm cozy bedroom. A bedroom that holds the best memories of my childhood.

And what I know will be the best memories of my womanhood too.

Because every night Zedd snuck into my room and made me his woman over and over again.

I don’t know how he managed to get past the guards and the cameras every night for twenty-one days straight. Every night I lay awake watching the cracked window for him, panicking if he was even a minute later than his midnight entry.

But sometimes my mood would flip, and in those dark moments I wished for Zedd to be caught. I’d fantasize about running down the stairs in my nightshirt and bunny-slippers, ordering Father’s guards not to hurt him, then having a showdown with Father, trying to break him with my will, with my determination, with my love.

But Zedd was too careful for that. He knows Father just as well as I do—maybe even better, since I spent half my teenage years away in Italy, the dark mafia-boss side of my father hidden from me, allowing me to partially deny that my princess-privilege was paid for with the blood of others, with crime and cruelty, darkness and death.

And death is what it feels like now. My glum face stares back at me from the flower-framed bridal mirror. I look like a fat painted whore, comes the self-loathing thought as gloom settles over me like a dark cloud. For one awful moment I see my future as Ralph Romero’s wife, with dark circles beneath my eyes from sleepless nights pining for Zedd, deep worry-lines creasing my forehead from the endless days of despair.

The despair reaches so deep into me I wonder if I should just end it.

Then suddenly the despair lurches into blind rage, anger that Zedd isn’t here, isn’t just killing everyone and running away with me.

He said I’m his, so why isn’t he just killing everyone and making me his, comes the sulky pouty thought that I know is childish and unrealistic, that works great in the fairytale of my fantasy but would end with Zedd full of bullet-holes and my life destroyed even worse than if I just submitted to my fate and married Ralph Romero.

Which I’m going to do, comes the resigned reminder pouting back at me from the mirror. It’s over. Three weeks is what you had with your true love, and it’s over now.

Sure, Zedd swore he’d find a way to sneak into the Romero estate once I moved there, but we both know that’s far too dangerous—for both of us. Ralph Romero wouldn’t hesitate to



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