You Cannot Afford Me Now,Fabiano

Tomorrow, I am supposed to walk down the aisle and marry the most lethal mafia boss on the East Coast. But right now, I am trapped inside a locked glass conservatory.

His childhood friend turned on the industrial ceiling sprinklers, laughing as the cold water rapidly filled the room.

She knew about my crippling phobia of drowning. I looked through the glass at my fiancé, Fabiano, begging him to save me.

Instead of helping, he just leaned against the terrace railing, sipping his bourbon while his men recorded my terror on their phones.