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We split up after that. Zander and I headed down a corridor where we’d lie in wait for our special bride to arrive. There were many rooms which, in a normal circumstance, a normal wedding, would be used by both the groom’s party and the bride’s party, but since this wedding was basically a shotgun wedding to massacre everyone, our intel said we’d only have to deal with the bride.
No maid of honor. No bridesmaids. No groomsmen. Nothing like that. I supposed that’s something to be grateful for, because it was less to deal with.
And, obviously, there was already a shit ton to handle.
The room was ready for Gianna. A bouquet of roses, along with a fully-lit mirror where a chair sat. The very basics. So basic, in fact, it was borderline ridiculous. Someone with Miguel’s money could easily afford to throw a giant wedding, with all the bells and whistles. But the timeline of it was enough of an excuse for him not to.
He didn’t care about Gianna. I knew it in my heart. The only thing he gave a shit about was the baby in her belly. A boy. The son he never had.
Zander checked the time, and then he looked at me. “Are you ready for this?”
I set down my bag behind a lavish chaise lounge in the corner of the room, so when Gianna walked in, she wouldn’t immediately see it. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I took off my sunglasses and sat on the chaise, and Zander sat beside me.
“Not having cold feet, are you?” The tiniest smile ever graced Zander’s face, probably because he knew what a terrible joke that was.
“Of course not,” I said. “I just… I never wanted to walk down the aisle, let alone walk down the aisle to Miguel.” Never mind the fact that I was already a married woman. All of this… none of it was what I wanted. I wanted Miguel and Rocco dead, and then I wanted to start fresh.
But starting fresh would involve me leaving my guys, and I didn’t think I could do it. I needed them.
“Well, at least you didn’t have to walk down the aisle to Luca,” Zander quipped. “Say, you don’t think you’ll be getting a divorce anytime soon, do you? ‘Cause this whole married woman thing…”
I chuckled in spite of myself, and I was about to tell him that Luca had mentioned a divorce, now that his dear daddy was MIA, but right then Zander got a text. “Gianna’s car just pulled up. We need to get in position.”
I supposed it was a good thing she was here already. It’d give me more time to make myself look the part. Do my hair, doll myself up, get the dress fitting just right, add as much padding as I needed.
Zander stood and left the room, whereas I stayed put. He’d stake out the room from across the hall, wait for Gianna to come in, and then give me a few minutes alone with her. This part of the plan, at least, should go without a hitch. Damian would lead her here, since Gianna had never seen Damian before.
But, just in case it didn’t go without a hitch, I pulled out the ivory gun I had stashed in the waistband of my pants. I set the gun on my leg and waited.
From where I was seated in the room, Gianna would have to walk in and turn to look to the left to see me. She’d bring in her dress and whatever else she had, maybe set them down, and then be shocked as hell to see me.
Maybe she wouldn’t even recognize me. It wouldn’t matter.
Sitting there, alone, waiting for Gianna to show, I was finally able to wrestle with the nerves inside. Maybe because now it was finally happening, or maybe I simply resigned myself to whatever fate would bring. It was, quite literally, now or never. If we couldn’t take Miguel now, no one ever would. He’d win, and he’d only stop when he ruled the whole goddamned world.
Minutes passed, and when I heard the doorknob to the room slowly twist, I took off my hat and set it beside me on the chaise, near my folded sunglasses. My hand rested on my ivory gun when a very pregnant woman walked in, struggling to carry her dress in a long black bag, along with another bag over her shoulder.
Gianna’s dark hair had already been curled; it bounced with each step she took. The door swung shut behind her, and she went straight to the mirror to set down the one bag, and then she went to hang the dress bag on the wall, where a single rack was. All the while, she was muttering something under her breath, something I couldn’t hear, but I assumed it had to do with Miguel and how she had no help right now.
How rude, right?
“Should I congratulate you on the wedding, or is today not a happy occasion for you?” I asked, causing Gianna to whirl around and finally land those dark eyes on me. She took a step back, backing into the table with the mirror, and she set a hand on her belly, as if to shield her unborn son from me because she saw the gun resting on my lap.
“Don’t worry about this,” I said, gently picking up the ivory gun. I did not point it at her; I had some class. She was pregnant, after all, and I was a better person than Miguel. Not by much, but still. “I won’t shoot you, Gianna, but you’ve got to be good for me. Come chat with me.” I patted the space beside me on the chaise lounge and scooted over to give the woman more room.
Gianna was a pretty girl. Mid-twenties, with dark hair and dark eyes. Her skin was a few shades darker than mine, but I was hoping with the dress, the makeup, and the veil that none of it would be too noticeable.
Her eyes darted to the door.
“Don’t bother running. A: you’re pregnant, so you wouldn’t be able to run very fast. B: Zander’s out there, and he might not be as understanding as I am,” I warned her. “So sit with me, Gianna. Let’s talk.”
She didn’t want to. Oh, she didn’t want to at all, but anyone with eyes in this situation would see they had no choice. She certainly didn’t.
Gianna took tiny footsteps toward me, one after the other. It made the small walk to my side take ages, and when she finally sat beside me, her back was rod-straight. She avoided looking at me altogether.
“Do you recognize me, Gianna?” I asked. When she did not speak, I went on, “I know my hair is different—”
That must’ve been enough to jog her memory, because her head whipped in my direction, those eyes of her widening. “You’re… Giselle? But, no. You’re dead.”
