Novels by Sasha Smith

I was going to kick something. Or someone— I wasn't sure which yet. Today was my fitting day and Mom, having taken me to shop for bridal gowns, wouldn't stop ranting about how my wedding was the most anticipated. How everyone kept talking and wishing it was going to come faster than planned.I'd been shocked and almost yelled the house down when I was informed my wedding was in less than a week. Saturday to be precise. Why Luca and my parents were rushing for the wedding, I didn't know, but I knew one thing: I was screwed. In less than a week, I would be married to an arrogant, condescending bastard, and my freedom kept slipping through my fingers day by day.So here I was, shopping for the outfit I would be wearing when I traded and I could do nothing but smile at the strangers who kept praising me on how I looked beautiful in every gown I put on.“Fix your face, Ariadne,” Mom gritted in annoyance after one of the sales girl praised that I could be dressed in a trash bag and still lo

You ever wonder why sin was irresistible and sweet? Why bad habits were the hardest to quit? Well, I think I just found the answers to those questions in the form of the enigmatic man who sat in one corner of my room. Luca Russo. The ruthless billionaire. Here in my bedroom. Staring— no, rather, glaring— at me with those blue eyes. I had no idea why I hadn't been scared of him, but seeing him now, at this hour, in my half lit room, I couldn't fight the goosebumps that spread on my body. He was doing things to my body, and I could feel it in between my legs. Oblivious to him obviously. “Wh… what… what are you doing here?” I stuttered when I finally found my voice. He stood up dangerously slow, his steps to me dangerously slower. The glare seemed to magnify this time and if looks could kill, I would have been dead the moment I walked into the room. “How did you even get in here.” When I got no reply, I snapped my head over my shoulder to scream for the one person who woul

"What? What do you mean you're now engaged to Luca Russo?” My best friend Georgina asked over the phone. It had been six days since the ordeal in form of a hunk of a man barged into my life. Four days since Dad locked me up in my room, thankfully with my phone and TV, although I wasn't in the mood to do anything. I'd just mustered up the courage today to call Georgina and deliver the tragic news. I nodded even though she couldn't see me. “It's true, Georgie. I'm even surprised the news hasn't flown around. News sure does flies around in this society.” “Urggh, tell me about it,” she groaned. “Remember when Gianna got pregnant by her bodyguard? No one would stop talking about it for years.” “I know right?” Gianna was a topic five years ago. Parents warned their daughters not to be like her. She was a prime example of what not to do as an elite, and a ridicule to her family. I felt sorry for her, but it seemed in our world, you could never want who you wanted. “So, what are you

The answers to my unspoken question came forty minutes later after hushed whispers by the door with Mom, Dad and the devil( I was calling him that in my head, sue me), and never in a million years did I think that was the answer. “What?” I shrieked in disbelief. “No. No way. I'm not doing it.” “We don't have a choice, Ariadne,” Dad reminded me yet again since we walked into his home office. “Today was supposed to be your engagement, but it seems Santiago has… Heavens, how do I even say this?” “That he is a cheat who got the woman he's been sleeping with pregnant?” I sufficed. “Ariadne!” Mom admonished. “Language. And not in front of your fiance.” I scoffed. “This is ridiculous! And stupid, and unfair. You can't do this to me!” I was not unaware of the fact that Luca sat in Dad's swivel chair like he owned the place, quiet and attentive. I could also feel his glare directed at me, but I didn't care. I refused to be tossed around like a rag doll. Given to this person and then

THIS WAS IT. The day I would be delivered and given as a sacrificial lamb to my father's enemies. They claimed it was a pact— a ritual that had been going on for generations upon generations as a way to siphon our family businesses. I called it modern slavery. Somehow it felt the 1500’s where daughters were pimped out to spouses old enough to be their daughters or granddaughters. Which made me scared because I had no idea who I was betrothed to. What kind of man was he? What did he look like? Would I even be attracted to him? Those questions I didn't have the answer to, but what I knew was that I was officially signing off my happiness in exchange for my father to live happily. I hated that I had to do all these, but I had no choice. “Remember, Ariadne,” Mom said with feigned excitement. She was not a good actress; I could read her like an open book and I wished she stopped trying. For both our sakes. “Marriage to the Russos is something everyone in this society is dying for. T