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Until now, apparently.
“This is your last warning.” My father taps more ashes onto his desk. “Stop creating trouble with the Marchettis. You will marry Benny, and that’s final.”
I nod and stand from my chair. There’s no arguing with my father. He views this marriage as best for our family, so that’s what will happen.
I leave his office and trek upstairs. When I enter my bedroom, I find my sisters, Bria and Isabella, are there, uninvited. Bria lies across my bed, staring at her phone. Isabella is at my vanity, sniffing my perfumes.
The three of us are in our twenties. I’m twenty-eight years young. Bria is twenty-four, and Isabella is twenty. Since it’s considered taboo for a woman to move out before marriage in this world, we still live with our parents.
“Unless one of you wants to step in as a tribute to marry Benny, I don’t want to hear it,” I say, shutting the door behind me.
“Look on the bright side,” Isabella says, spinning around on the vanity stool.
“There’s a bright side?” I interrupt.
“The bright side is, at least he’s hot.” Isabella sprays herself with my YSL Black Opium. “Knowing my luck, I’ll end up with someone ugly and crazy.”
I walk across the room and collapse on my bed next to Bria. “He’s a murderer. A legit psychopath. He killed another manin front of me.”
“What guy isn’t a murderer these days?” Isabella asks.
I glare at her. “I refuse to listen to a girl who wanted to be a Disney princess last year.”
Isabella returns my glare. “Being a Disney princess is a prestigious job, thank you very much.” Her glare morphs into a frown. “I’d have made the perfect Snow White… and found my Prince Charming.”
Isabella was accepted into a Disney internship, but our father refused to allow her to move to Florida. He called it “the stupidest thing” he’d ever fucking heard.
Bria rolls her eyes, turns on her belly, and drops her phone. “Neomi is getting her Prince Charming without a Disney internship.”
“Yes, Benny Marchetti, Prince of Murderville,” I say, smacking her arm.
“It has a nice ring to it.” Isabella twirls a black curl around her finger. “Your own dark fairy tale.”
I shudder. Her comment reminds me of Carla’s warning.
“Skip the fairy tales, Nee-Nee. True love isn’t meant for girls like us.”
Screw my Prince Charming.
Benny Marchetti is the villain in my dark tale.
* * *
The next morning,Isabella barges into my bedroom without knocking.
“Benny is here,” she says, her voice eager.
“Okay.” I draw out the word. “He’s probably here to talk business with our father. Hard pass on going downstairs to greet him.”
Isabella shakes her head. “He told Tommaso you and he are going out for the day.”
I slam my MacBook shut and toss it next to me on the bed. “He must be on crack.”
We go quiet at the sound of screaming downstairs. I jump off the bed and follow Isabella out of my bedroom. My stomach smacks into the stair railing as I look over it and take in the scene downstairs.
Benny and Tommaso are facing off. My mother is standing in the corner, her phone in her hand, most likely texting my father to alert him of the situation.
“You and my sister aren’t married yet,” Tommaso says, clenching his fist. “There will be no alone time untilafterthe wedding.”
