Page 1 of Bound to a Monster

Chapter 1

Carmie

Istorm into the club armed with my worst lipstick and my best vibrator.

The makeup is my mask. I don’t normally wear bright red, but tonight I’m trying to be anyone but myself.

Good Carmela. Nice Carmela. Never-broke-a-rule Carmie.

My window for living on my own terms is rapidly closing.

That’s why I’m in a dress my best friend, Kaley, encouraged me to buy but has been hidden in the back of my closet for the last few years. It’s something I’d never dare put on in public, at least not the normal Carmie.

Black, strappy, straight neck, bodycon. I’d never,everbe allowed out in this thing if anyone from my family caught it on me, and it’s not even that bad.

Good thing Club Twilight’s on the other side of town in West Philly where I don’t know anybody. It’s in an old Victorian mansion that got flipped a few years back and turned into oneof the hottest destinations for young people looking for a good time.

I’ve never been here before, but more than that, nobody from my father’s organization would ever be caught dead in a place like this.

Which makes it perfect.

The bouncer doesn’t look at me twice. I’m just another anonymous girl out for a little fun. I cling to my little black clutch as I walk through the crowd, feeling both elated and nervous.

I’ve never gone out alone before. The few times I’ve gone dancing have been in big groups, but this is totally different. I have no friends to fall back on, no circle of girls to disappear into.

It’s just me, my red lipstick, my vaguely inappropriate dress, and my sex toy.

I head to the bar. I can’t imagine dancing sober. I ask for white wine and nervously sip it as my knee jostles up and down. I manage to sneak a glance at myself in the mirror behind the bar and resist the urge to start touching my hair. It’s a nervous habit and one I’m trying to break.

This has to be the stupidest idea ever. If Daniel or Luca knew I was here, they’d lose their freaking minds, and forget about Dad’s overreaction. He’d probably try to ground me like I’m still a teenager.

But joke’s on him—if his daughter is old enough to get married off to some strange Russian man, then his daughter’s old enough to lose her virginity in a nightclub to a stranger.

Okay, that’s probably not how he’d see it, but that’s my goal.

I saved myself. That’s such a stupid phrase, like having sex isruiningyour body, but whatever. I don’t even know why I waited anymore. My dad made it clear that he expected me to be pure until marriage, and I’ve always been the kind of girl that listens to her parents. Not sure I’m all that proud of it anymore. He praised me all the time, told me how strong I was because I refused to get emotional, and he even encouraged my fencing back when I was in high school. A nod or a kind word was everything to me, and I guess I thought if I really did follow his rules and try my best to be the kind of woman he wanted me to be, he’d reward me with more freedom, more responsibility, moresomething.

Instead, I’m getting a husband I don’t want, and I don’t even know his name.

That’s right. I’m getting married to a man I don’t know, have never met, and couldn’t pick out of a lineup with a gun to my head.

And now this is my final act of rebellion. This is my one lastfuck you, world, before I walk down the aisle and do my duty.

I’m going to have sex with a stranger and lose my virginity on my own terms.

Except I have no idea how to go about making that happen, which is an unfortunate side effect of embracing the whole good-girl thing.

Now that I want to be bad, I have no clue how to get started.

I skim the men sitting nearby. A few of them are on their phones and a few more are standing in groups with other guys and random girls, talking and laughing. I don’t know which of them is available, and even if there were some sign flashing abovetheir heads that saidOpen For Sex Business, I still don’t know how to actually initiate a little bone-town transaction.

Do I just walk up to the most attractive man I find and proposition him?

He’ll probably think I’m a hooker.

It’s not like I can explain myself.Hey, my dad arranged for me to marry a stranger and I want you to fuck me tonight so I don’t walk down the aisle as a virgin.Not weird or crazy, I swear!

That sounds… complicated.

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