by Lucia Franco
"Congratulations, Mr. Riviera," he says, dipping his head respectively toward me and my bride. I place my hand in his when he delivers his next set of words like a man proud. "I'm Luca Enzo Alessio Bianchi Francesco the third, Natalia's husband. It's nice to finally meet you."
I still. His greeting is a shock to my heart.
"Husband?" I repeat, then aim a pointed look at my dear daughter. I realize I'm gripping Luca's hand harder than I intended to and pull away. "This is news to me." I pause and then say again, "Husband?"
Aubrey's fingers tighten around mine over her waist and it brings me back to where I am. Her thumb strokes over the top of my hand. Flexing my digits, I glance over and meet her sympathetic gaze. She smiles softly, and suddenly everything feels okay again. I know whatever wild story Natalie has for us, I can handle with my wife by my side.
I also feel like Aubrey is giving me some sort of code look to just shut up for now.
Turning back to Luca, I say, "I was just informing Natalie that we can all have brunch tomorrow. Tonight, I want to enjoy the rest of the evening with my wife."
His smile is genuine. I wish it wasn't. "We'd love that."
Maybe it's the heightened emotion that comes with weddings, but I can't bring myself to be angry with Natalie at the moment. I just want her happy, and if marrying some man from Italy with a mouth full of names does that, then who the fuck am I to tell her no? I just married her best friend.
Though, her poker face is better than mine.
Letting go of Aubrey, I step forward and give my daughter a hug. "We're going to talk about this," I say near her ear, only for her to hear. She nods and I give her a kiss on the cheek.
"Congratulations," Aubrey says excitedly, but I can hear the tightness in her voice. I think she's hurt learning her best friend got married and didn't tell her. I offer my good wishes as well and tell myself I'm going to shelf this fucking bombshell Natalie dropped on me until tomorrow.
Lacing my fingers through Aubrey's, I steal her away and walk her toward the dance floor. She wraps her arms around my shoulders as I pull her close to my chest.
"Look at me," she says, and I do.
"How does my only daughter get married and not tell me?"
Aubrey doesn't respond to my question. I know she's trying to make sure I keep my cool, which I am, but it still upsets me that I wasn't given the option to walk Natalie down the aisle.
"Baby."
Gavin DeGraw’s "More Than Anyone" begins playing through the speakers. A slow smile spreads across my face and I hold her closer to me. She had the DJ replay our first dance song again. We're swaying together to the ballad. Everything fades away and I fall into her beautiful brown eyes. Aubrey starts lip-synching the song's lyrics, saying she's going to love me more than anyone, something we always tell each other.
I can't wait until I have her naked in my arms tonight and we make love as husband and wife. My heart beats so fucking hard for this woman and the way she makes me feel inside.
"Want to know a secret?" I ask. She nods excitedly. "I can't wait to wake up to my wife tomorrow." The thought makes me embarrassingly giddy, but I don't give a shit. I got the girl and she's going to be mine forever.
She cups the back of my head and pulls my mouth to hers to place a gentle kiss on me. Her lips feel like pillows.
"Want to know my secret?" she asks, and I nod. "Valentina has been dying to get a taste of her new husband."
My head falls back and I let out a full belly laugh.
I'm going to cherish the fuck out of her.
The end.
Turn the page for a preview of Stay With Me, book 1 in the Stay With Me series by Nicole Fiorina.
Prologue
“You stood before me, a memory,
but I was a stranger in your eyes.
Did you forget to remember
or remember to forget?”
—Oliver Masters
mia
I WOULD NEVER FORGET the day you slipped away. A small lift of your chin and our eyes met. I only saw emptiness in a place where a wistful vulnerability used to collide with wonder. Now, a hollowness of a bottomless pit. In your eyes, I'd never seen your shade of green so dim. It caused my stomach to fall into the same somber eclipse, spiraling faster and faster with no end, no walls, only darkness.
And then you averted your gaze.
The flesh from my bones, the blood in my veins, the oxygen in my lungs, all of it crumbled, breaking into small pieces yet still holding on by a thread—the thread was my heart. It pumped on auto-pilot as if it couldn't associate with the rest of my body. It’s thumping sounded in my ears, and I wished it would stop, but my heart was not ready to let go. It continued with the same steady beat, refusing to give up what was right in front of me. Maybe your eyes will return to mine, I thought—well, prayed.
And I waited.
Two seconds passed.
Then three—waiting as my body weakened from your disconnection, and my heart continued to pump.
Four.
And then your back was to me.
Whatever we’d had no longer existed, but I remembered everything clearly, and it wasn't fair. Could I have accepted the hollow look in your eyes over the wonder? Surely, anything you had to offer would be better than nothing. If only you had turned back around. Had you even noticed me?
And then you took a step in the opposite direction.
You were gone, left in obscurity and I couldn't bring you back, but my heart still maintained a steady beat, pumping along to a rhythm of crimson hope. "Stay with me," you had said over and over. Who would have thought you would be the one to take a step into oblivion? I'm screaming now, can you hear me? Why didn't you stay with me?
I didn't get to kiss you goodbye. You were gone, and even though you were only twenty feet away, I missed you. It was entirely possible you'd wake up and turn back around, or I'd wake up.
Either way, it was a nightmare.
I forced my eyes closed. I couldn't watch you walk away, each step drawing more distance and less of a chance of you coming back. The darkness was better, anyway, and if I held my lids closed tight, I could see stars. I focused on the yellow and orange horizon behind my eyelids, pretending it was a sunset through the bitterness. The only warmth was the water gathering in the corners of my eyes. The tears struggled for a moment, fighting the same lie as my beating heart.
I wished I could switch places with you, because I didn't deserve a world once blessed by your light, and you didn't deserve this at all.
But this is what I deserved.
In the beginning, I’d thought you'd be fun, and I’d thought I could leave you effortlessly. It was me who ripped hearts out, but now mine was the one bleeding. The walls surrounding me had been durable, indestructible, before you.
And with no more walls, and no more you, I was slowly suffocating.
When it came down to you and me, I'd never thought you’d be the one to slip away.
Chapter 1
“Falling down, through the darkness.
She doesn’t scream, or cry for help,
lost her mind a long time ago.
She prefers falling down.”
—Oliver Masters
I NEVER TOOK my stepmother seriously when she said I would one day be sent away for my reckless behavior after she found a boy in my closet, and I never really cared. It only fueled my actions.
So, one day, I stole the keys to her precious BMW 3 Series and drove it straight through the garage door.
Diane had grown tired of my acting out and blamed it on my father's increasing abandonment of the belief I could be cured. My father, the simple and passive-aggressive man he was, took each harsh word that poured from her perfectly made-up lips as he sat at the dining room table, staring blankly.
I didn’t even like the boy, either. All I’d wanted was to feel something. Anything.
On the edge of nineteen, and at my stepmother's final straw and my father’s last nerve, they both agr
eed to call the law after my BMW incident. Since it was my last warning, I would have been thrown into a mental institution, but my father pleaded with the judge to send me away to Dolor—the farthest reformatory college for people like me.
Don't get me wrong, I knew I wasn't normal, but I never thought there would be anyone else like me, especially not a school dedicated to my … kind—if there was such a thing.
At what point had I taken a turn for the worst? I assumed I had always been this way. Allowing boys to use me had never been for their benefit.
It had been for mine.
I wanted to feel their hands on me, their mouths on mine, and the eagerness and lust as if it would rub off on me. It never did, but maybe, just maybe, it would light a fire inside me long enough to burn. Pain, lust, anger, passion, I would take anything at this point. My heart was stiff. Rigor mortis had already set in my soul, if I even had a soul. I could no longer be sure.
My suitcase lay half empty at the edge of my bed as I stood over it. Even with a brief list of acceptable items, I had nothing I desired to bring. No pictures, no attachment to a pillow or blanket. No interest in anything aside from my headphones that I was sure they would confiscate upon my arrival. I opened my nightstand to retrieve a box of condoms, because it wasn't on the list of "unacceptable items," and stuffed it into a secret pocket at the bottom of the suitcase.
Satisfied, I reached for the top of the suitcase, slammed it shut, and closed the zipper without an afterthought. I wasn't mad at Diane. If I had been, that would have meant I had feelings. Honestly, I didn't blame her. If I had a stepdaughter like myself, I'd call the police as well.
"Mia, you ready?" my father called out from the bottom of the stairs.
I didn't answer.
"Mia Rose Jett!"
"Two minutes!" I set the lightly packed suitcase beside my bedroom door and took one last look around at the bare walls of an old prison before I entered a new one. My walls were always empty, just like my bed, my dresser, and my desk. No personality. Once I walked out the door, it would be like I had never lived here. This space could quickly become a guest bedroom, and I bet Diane already had a Pinterest board dedicated to it.
"Oh, no. You can't wear that." Diane scrunched her face from the bottom of the stairs. Her short bleach-blonde bob didn't move as she shook her head slightly from side to side. She always wore too much hairspray. Come to think of it, I don't believe I'd ever seen her without her hair blown out, straightened, and sprayed in place. Even when she did her fifteen-minute workout videos after dinner in her room with the door cracked, I'd never seen her hair move.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" My chin dropped as I straightened my oversized black t-shirt that read "cute but psycho" over my destroyed jean shorts, revealing my chicken legs. One would think I was naked underneath, the shirt was so big, but I wasn't. I was covered. Promise, Dad.
"Nothing's wrong. Let's move. We're already late for the airport," my father said, waving me down. He always avoided confrontation at all cost, and sometimes I wondered who he was more scared of—Diane or me? At this angle, I finally noticed the bald spot he'd been complaining about on the top of his head. I never believed him before, but now I didn't care enough to point out he was correct. He’d been a handsome man, but even with Diane around, loneliness had sucked the life out of him. Bags scalloped under his brown eyes and his cheeks were sunken.
Marriage would do that to you.
The suitcase banged against each stair as I stepped down. "She could have, at the very least, brushed her hair," Diane said under her breath as she walked out the door ahead of my father and me. I pressed my lips together at the hypocrisy of her statement. At least I could run a brush through my hair if I wanted to.
"Not too much longer now," my father said as he gripped the handle of the suitcase and brought it behind him. He was right. Only eleven and a half hours longer, and I would be 3,447 miles away from both of them, give or take. He was choosing a perfect life, and I wasn't a part of perfect, and that was okay. I’d done my research. I knew what was waiting for me on the opposite side of the plane ride.
Dolor University was a reformatory college—prison—specifically designed for troubled souls and delinquents who suffered from mental illnesses, addictions, and a poor parental guidance that led one to a career in crime. Apparently, the best in the world, located in none other than the United Kingdom. I couldn’t help but think the reason for the location was so they wouldn't feel pressured to visit, and I was okay with that. They could ship me wherever. I didn't want to be around people who didn't want to be around me, anyway. Isolation was my paradise.
I kept my attention out the window, twirling my dirty brown hair around my finger the entire way to the airport while my father went on about the curriculum.
"With Mia Rose's history, we should have chosen an all-girl reformatory," Diane scoffed.
"Mia Rose needs diversity," my father reminded her.
"Mia Rose is right here and can speak for herself," I informed both of them.
Diane conveniently stayed in the car as my father escorted me through baggage check-in and to the end of the line at security. He couldn’t go any farther, and I was surprised he had made it this far.
I stood before him as his eyes glossed over. "I'm sorry, Mia."
He had never been good with words, but neither had I. Seconds passed, and he still couldn't look me in the eyes. He never could. Even when I talked to him, he'd look past me as if I were a ghost.
Look at me, Dad.
But, after a single nod, he turned and left me without so much as a second glance as I clutched my passport and plane ticket in my hand.
More novels by Lucia Franco
Standalone Titles
You'll Think of Me
Hold On to Me
Hush, Hush
Say Yes: A Hush, Hush Novella
Off Balance series
Balance
Execution
Release
Twist
YOU'LL THINK OF ME
With his thick southern drawl and seductive charm, Luke is the country boy everyone adores. He has his future mapped out, but his plans with Olivia are derailed when she makes a decision that blindsides him, changing the path they both envisioned.
HOLD ON TO ME
He’s a sweet talking Georgia boy, rough around the edges with an irresistible smile. John sets his sights on the new girl, determined to show her what his small town is about. But Alyssa isn’t as accepting as he thought and she rejects him at every turn.
HUSH, HUSH
The dark and glamorous lifestyle of the rich and shameless open my eyes to a lavish world of sin and wealth, and a man I can’t have.
A man I desperately want—James Riviera.
SAY YES: A HUSH, HUSH NOVELLA
James Riviera is everything I never knew I wanted. Powerful, sexy, alluring, and completely mine.
Now he wants to make me his wife.
I only have to say yes and I'll have forever, but forever isn't as lasting as people believe.
BALANCE (Book 1 in the Off Balance series)
Kova's power and domination, coupled with Adrianna's fierce tenacity, reveal there is more for her body to learn. Every interaction can be misconstrued, but there's no mistaking the darkening of his gaze, the lingering of his touch, or the illicit image of his bare skin pressed against hers. Integrity is on the line.
EXECUTION (Book 2 in the Off Balance series)
Kova underestimates Adrianna's endurance, and gravitates more toward her, despite his internal battle raging within to stay away. They try to disentangle themselves, but the tension between coach and gymnast mounts, engulfing them both in a forbidden world of deception and passion.
RELEASE (Book 3 in the Off Balance series)
There is no atoning for what Kova did. The vow he made cannot be undone. With boundaries set and lines clearly defined, Kova will now have to be the one to relinquish control in order to regain Adriann
a’s trust.
TWIST (Book 4 in the Off Balance series)
As Adrianna fights for her life, Kova battles for them both. No one is left unscathed as they succumb to their darkest hunger. Passions reignite and their actions grow bolder, creating an endless link between them. Once is a mistake. Twice is reckless. Three times is a choice.
Acknowledgments
To every reader who fell in love with Aubrey and James and wanted more of them, thank you. Thank you so, so much. Say Yes is for you, because without you, I never would've written it. I took a chance with this story and you accepted it. I had no plans for a novella until you. Your love and support inspired me to show you a little more inside their world. For that, I will be forever grateful. Anytime you want me to go back, just give a shout out. Being with James and Aubrey is F-U-N.
To my incredible assistant, Jill Mac; my editor, Nadine Winningham; and my proofreader, Amber Hodge, thank you for coming together to help me publish this novella during a dark time in my life. There's no way I could have done it without your help and encouragement. I'm fortunate to be able to work with my best friends. You ladies mean the world to me.
Babe, thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for asking me every day about the book world. Thank you for answering all my legal questions. And thank you for not questioning my decision to write something, even though your eye twitches to at times. Love you.
