The Italian's proposal

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Melody

Three days later Melody was trying her wedding dress on in Timothy’s apartment. He had urged her to live under his roof; that way, he said, he would make sure she wouldn’t run away, escaping to avoid paying for her debt.

Telling him she had no money of her own proved to be impossible. Melody cried herself to sleep that night. She couldn’t believe that something like this was happening to her.

Not because in a way it didn’t suit her, she was deluding herself if she thought her son wouldn’t be better cared for under the Giannatto’s mantle and protection, just the family name alone was enough.

But at what price.

It pained her because she thought that Timothy, deep in his heart, knew that she was not guilty. At times, in the last few days, he would stare at her as if he regretted it, but nothing came from his lips and she grew tired of waiting.

She didn’t call Equilay or her sister, there was no point. Surely, she was aware of what her bastard husband had done, and she wasn’t going to help her.

“Wow!” Melody turned to the door. There stood a rather beautiful woman she never saw before. “That dress looks beautiful on you,” she smiled openly at him.

“Who are you?” she asked her, picking up all the fabric of the dress, the tulle ran all the way to the floor.

“Hello to you too,” the redhead approached, her legs looked exceptionally long, her hair glistened shiny and silky. Her green eyes were quite a sight.

“If you’re looking for Timothy, he must be in his office. I haven’t seen him in hours,” she sat up in bed to keep from fainting. She felt pressured.

She didn’t know how she was going to be able to handle it all.

Timothy wanted to have the wedding in a chapel, all his family would attend, his parents as well as his uncles and cousins, she didn’t know any of them, and the experience she had with Giannato was not good at all. Likewise, he had told her that the press would not be left out, he was sufficiently well known that all information would slip through and they would want to attend.

“God rest my soul if I come to that!” she exclaimed, pretending to be horrified.

“So?” she asked him about to get up.

“Don’t get up for my dear. You can lie down if you want to. Even I need to sleep for a couple of hours. It can’t be easy getting married to someone you don’t love.”

Melody sat up with a jolt and looked at her in shock.

“How... what...”

“Relax. Your secret’s safe,” the redhead winked mischievously and flirtatiously at her.

She was a beautiful woman, wearing no makeup. She was attired in a short silver dress and sandals that tied around her ankles.

She looked like a model.

“How do you know that...”

“That you don’t love him?” the woman interrupted. “A little birdie told me.”

“No one knows. It’s part of the agreement. I... Oh no! If he finds out he’ll say it was me. He’ll think I lied to him.” If at the first, unjustifiably, he had practically forced her to marry him, what would he do if he thought she’d lied to him again?

“My lips are sealed. I came because I think you need help. I hate it when men do what they want, girls should stick together, right? Besides, my sister is pregnant too. So, I know from her that it can’t be easy for you plan a wedding.”

“I didn’t plan it,” she said confused. “We’re just getting married in a chapel.”

no honey!” she put her hands on her shoulders, delicate, manicured hands, the woman was

as if you know him,” Melody smiled. That woman was encouraging,

paused for a moment and

“Giannato? You’re a Giannatto?”

the woman smiled at her again, it was

idea Timothy had siblings,” of course she didn’t have long to know

a haughty, bored-out-of-his-life, race-car maniac,” she sighed and released her. “But he’s good-looking. You have to accept that. These Italians are fucking great. Tell me

a little nervous about the mystery invasion but was glad to see a different face. For the past three days, it was all Timothy, the wedding

her from the other

had never been to a house like this before. All so different from her parents’ house, not

tell her why the

her to the apartment and went

that moment everything was spinning and the pasta that had gone down so well ended up shooting out in

here,” she told him when

pack, or I’ll

off the floor

don’t tell me what the fuck to do. If you think you

me what to do? Was she

whatever he

in no way daunted, which made her heartbeat faster and she felt

it be the

let him fuck her

him that he wasn’t in charge of her life, that she wasn’t a puppet that he decided when and how to move.

embarrassing that he had to

little freedom she had left. She was a mess, her hair had come undone, and she was sure some bangs had been smeared with vomit. What difference did it make to go

if some stupid Italian in a

wanted nothing to do with her. So why was he marrying her? Why did he want to punish her with something

her as she was about

her a blouse

but held the blouse up to her face after washing it off and removing

he said grabbing her by the waist

thinking about sex when she

seen her

must have been very wrong with her head. It wasn’t just the throwing up, it was the smallest detail. How could she still be attracted to someone who loathed her? Hadn’t he believed in her? Money has no friends, she understood that. But to be so ridiculously radical? To hurt someone who had no part

Devina’s voice, bringing her back to

She lived there now.

no

her own, even when she was

her, in her word. Starting with her parents. Support her?

weren’t going to

She was screwed.

her gray playboy bunny-faced blouse and a frayed denim skirt with loose fringe around

front of the

like crying when

I am,” she said

What do you like to eat? I know pregnant, a lot of things fall out of disgust. So,

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