AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I reach out to her, my heart aching at the thought. “This is to protect you. We need to get married. It’s the only way to bring you under the Caruso family’s protection while I deal with that psycho.”
She looks up at the church, then back at me, her conflict evident. “And after we’re married? What happens to me then? Lock me away somewhere? You’re a murderer, Dominic.”
“You really believe I killed her?”
Before she can answer, Marco emerges from the church, his black umbrella barely shielding him from the rain. “Boss, a word? Got some news.”
Isabella watches as I nod to Marco. “Go inside, Isabella.” She looks like she’s about to argue. “Now,” I add, making sure she sees the fury in my eyes. She looks terrified but it works.
She disappears inside. Marco steps closer, his expression grave. “Marconi’s planning to finish this today. I’ve got the jet ready to take you both to Portofino. You need to get the fuck out of Dodge. Forget the wedding. Marry her in Italy if you have to. Just get moving.”
His words resonate with me, cutting through the noise of my own pride. I glance at the church, thinking of Isabella inside, and my decision solidifies. “We get married first.”
The thought of not being her husband is the only thing I fear at this moment. I have to have her as my bride, even if she’s terrified of me.
I walk inside, leaving Marco watch the exits with a team of lieutenants.
The interior of the church is a stark contrast to the gloomy weather outside. Stained glass windows cast colorful patterns on the stone floor, and the air is filled with the scent of old wood and incense.
A few witnesses watch in silence. They’re being paid to be here but they’ve clearly heard the news. They all look like they’re expecting the church to blow up at any moment.
I find Isabella standing at the altar, her wedding dress making her look like an angel in a place that feels too somber for her brightness. Her beauty is undeniable, but her eyes betray her apprehension, heightening my sense of guilt.
The priest shuffles out of a side room. A couple of guns appear before my men realize he’s not a risk.
He’s an elderly man with a white cane. His lack of sight seems to give him a different kind of vision, one that feels unnervingly perceptive. As he turns towards us. I swear he’s looking into my soul. His brow wrinkles. He knows I’m a sinner. That much is clear.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” his voice echoes through the church, solemn and resonant.
His words continue, his blindness somehow making the ceremony feel even more surreal. “If there is anyone who objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“I object,” Isabella says. “I’m here under duress.”
“She’s joking,” I say, gripping her arm tightly. I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Do not do that again.”
The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken objections and the weight of our circumstances.
The priest coughs. “If I may continue. Do you, Dominic, take Isabella to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
I glance at Isabella, her eyes meeting mine. There’s a plea in them, a silent cry for a different life than the one I’m forcing her into. “I do,” I say, my voice steady.
“And do you, Isabella, take Dominic to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
Isabella pauses, a fragile breath escaping her lips. “Say it,” I snarl at her.
“I do,” she whispers, her voice laced with fear of me.
The moment hangs in the air, suspended and charged with a tension that feels almost tangible.
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest declares, his voice echoing through the hallowed space. It’s a command, a formality that seals this arrangement - not a union of love, but of necessity.
Yet, as I lean in, something deep within me stirs, a yearning that transcends the mere transaction of our forced marriage.
Our lips meet, hesitantly at first, like two cautious envoys unsure of the truths they bear. I feel her lips trembling, betraying her fear and apprehension.
Her body against mine is like marble, cold and unyielding. But beneath that, there’s something else, a spark waiting to be ignited.
As the kiss deepens, I sense a shift. The walls she’s built, the defenses she’s raised, start to crumble under the gentle siege of my touch.
