AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My lips lift in a slow smile. “Oh, we’re going.”
And then Giosuè Caruso is going to find out why they call me the Violent God.
5
Isabetta
Gia walks a circle around me, her high heels clicking on the wooden floors of the bridal salon. My teeth grit, the sound grating on my nerves. I swear to god, I’m about ready to take her shoe and hit her over the head with it. It would serve two purposes. One, I wouldn’t have to hear her heels on the floor. And two, I wouldn’t have to listen to her speak. Ever. Again.
Gia stops, looking me over. She hasn’t changed much over the years. The only thing that’s different is that her tan is darker and the scowl on her face is more pronounced. She’s still mean as ever, and today she’s in rare form.
“No. This isn’t right. My brother’s wife cannot walk down the aisle looking so…fat.”
And there it is. The dig at me and my weight.
I say, “Gia if this is boring you, feel free to leave. I’m fine on my own. As for my weight, I’m not fat and I don’t appreciate you speaking about me like that. I’m curvy and proud of it. If that bothers you, then Iinsistthat you leave.”
Oh, she doesn’t like that. Not one bit.
She answers, “Now, we both know my dear brother asked me to be here. He knows you don’t have style and there’s no way we’re going to let someone like you ruin our family’s good name.”
Her family’s good name? My god, she acts like she’s part of the royal family.
“I’m sure these ladies are more than capable of helping me find the right dress.”
“I’ll stay.” She turns to the associates. “Now, let’s find a dress that will make my brother proud.”
The women from the shop murmur their apologies and rush to the long rack, pointing at various gowns. Gia gives me a small smirk before crossing the room to the bar, where she tops off her flute of champagne. She’s on her phone a moment later, typing away with that same smirk still on her lips. I can only assume she’s texting her brother, telling him her version of this little encounter. And he’ll believe her. He always does.
I bite back a sigh and step off the small stage where the bride can show off her dress to her loved ones.
Loved ones. What a joke.
Giosuè insisted that his other half—his twin sister and my personal nightmare—have a say in the wedding. A wedding I don’t want. A wedding that I can’t stop no matter how hard I try.
Tears threaten to fall as I enter the dressing room reserved for the bride, closing the curtain behind me. I’ll only have a moment of peace before someone barges in to help me out of the gown.
There’s a dull ache behind my eyes that hasn’t gone away since my father came home a month ago, telling me what he’d done. That he was in financial trouble, and I was the only one who could save him. When I asked what he had done, he wouldn’t answer, but said there was a solution. That I marry Giosuè and then all would be saved. I thought he was kidding. He wasn’t. Even now, I keep hoping this is some kind of sick joke.
I meet my gaze in the mirror, hating what I see. My dark blonde hair is pulled back in a high ponytail because I knew I’d get hot today. Loose tendrils stick up here and there, proving, yet again, that I’ll never be as perfect as Gia. Something Giosuè feels the need to remind me of. Often. Almost as often as he brings up my weight. My gaze moves down, taking in my reflection. The dress I have on at the moment reminds me of something a princess would wear. Strapless bodice with a sweetheart neckline and a fitted skirt that would rustle around my ankles if I danced.
As a kid, this is the kind of dress I imagined wearing for my big day. As an adult, I know I’m too curvy for something like this. That it’s not right for my body type and that’s fine. I just wish I was doing this on my own or even with friends who could help me find the perfect gown. Not that I think I’ll find the perfect gown. This marriage is a joke, so why on earth would Iwantto find my dream dress? It’s the lack of friends that hurts the most. When did I stop having friends? It wasn’t sudden, not that I can remember at least. No, it’s something that crept up on me.
Hot tears fill my eyes again and I wipe them away before they fall.
“Knock, knock. Are you ready to try on the next one?”
I force a smile, turning. “Yes.”
The attendant enters carrying a dress that’s hideous. I meanhideous.
“Your sister-in-law wanted you to try on this one. She said you need to get out of your shell and live a little.” She says the last bit with a wink, like we’re co-conspirators.
The dress is everything that I don’t want. It’s low cut, form-fitting, and isn’t even true white. No, it’s more of a light yellow that can’t even be called pretty. The bodice and skirt are covered in rhinestones and sequins, making it look gaudy and cheap. I don’t even know if Gia could wear this dress and make it look good.
“I don’t want to try this one on. Please bring me the white gown that I picked out.”
The woman’s gaze darts to the curtain and her voice lowers. “Please try it on. She’s threatening to tell my boss that I’m not doing my job.”
