Votre profil Booknode a été créé !

Vous êtes  
Votre année de naissance  
vos lectures
de demain
Nouveau ? Inscrivez-vous, c'est gratuit !
En cliquant sur "Je m'inscris" j'accepte les CGU de booknode
- Créez votre bibliothèque en ligne
- Découvrez des livres proches des vos goûts
- Partagez votre passion avec d'autres lecteurs
Lire la suite...
<< Voir tous les extraits
Par barzoi le 23-04-2019 Editer
Les Gangs de Boston, Tome 5 : Le Bandit
“Tanaka.” Papà’s voice doesn’t waver, but it’s softer than I’ve ever heard it. “There has been a change of plans. You must be a good girl and do as I say. Do you understand?” My only response is to blink. I’m too numb to argue. I’m too wrecked to give him a verbal response. Something he would chastise me for at any other time. “Nikolai has graciously agreed to provide some accommodations for you while I am away on business. There is no need to worry, though, little lamb. It will only be for a short while.” I don’t have the emotional capacity to accept this as my reality right now. For years, my life has been on a straight course that never deviated. Principle and ballet. Those were my only goals, and I had such little time to make them happen. I was supposed to marry Dante. That’s what I’ve been told. That’s what I’ve been preparing for. For my entire life, I’ve been sheltered. Schooled at home. Forbidden from having friends or leaving the house. I could not be alone with a man, ever. It’s what I’ve been taught and what I’ve always abided by. My father arranged my marriage, and it was set in stone. But now, he tells me he is sending me away with a man I don’t know at all. One who appears to have none of the values instilled in me. For a fleeting moment, I wonder what Dante will say. And then my thoughts gradually drift back to my company. A tear leaks down my cheek, followed by another. I don’t know anything other than one unalterable truth. I’m a dancer. It’s all I have. It’s all I am. When the doctor returns to discuss my fate, his face is clinical. Detached. And he barely glances at me before addressing my father as he’s been instructed to do. “Mr. Valentini, your daughter has ruptured two ligaments in her ankle—” “No.” I try to move, but one look from my father halts me. “I’m sorry.” The doctor looks at me now. “Your injuries will require surgery to repair the ligaments and remove the glass still embedded in your toes.” “But I’m a dancer,” I whisper. His eyes
Inscrivez vous !
▶ Crééz votre propre bibliothèque virtuelle.
▶ Découvrez des conseils de lecture.
▶ Echangez avec des milliers de passionnés de lecture.