Jenna
“It’s time to seal the deal,” my father pronounces. He’s sitting behind his great walnut desk, snipping the end off a cigar. I’ve been summoned here, to his office, the mafia princess to the king.
The knot of anxiety I’ve carried under my ribs from the time I was old enough to understand my future cinches up so tight I can’t breathe.
“Junior Tacone asked about you. He knows you graduated college. I can’t put it off any longer.”
I curse the tears that spring into my eyes. But it isn’t fair. I’ve been trapped into this marriage since I was nine months old. Signed over to marry a man ten years older than I am. A man who never wanted me, either.
I guess that should be my one comfort.
“Did Nico ask for me?” My voice wobbles.
My father lights the cigar and puffs.
I hate cigar smoke
