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The priest cleared his throat and gave me a side eye to show his disgust. He was probably thinking I was an Italian whore who wasn’t worthy of marrying a murderous, blood-thirsty mafia boss.
“Please face each other, I shall start now.”
Andrei and I turned, our eyes glued on each other. I wondered what he was thinking but I hoped he wasn’t thinking of consummating this fake marriage. I would just kill him them.
A vivid memory of him rubbing my clitoris sent a shiver of electricity all over my body and my clit pulsated to it.
I almost enjoyed his touch. Almost. But I didn’t. Whatever was happening in between my legs right now was my body being a body and misunderstanding what had happened.
The priest went on to mutter nonsense like talking about how a man who finds a wife finds a good thing and I tried to resist the urge to ask if that applied to a man who kidnapped a wife.
Because I sure as hell wasn’t going to make Andrei’s life peaceful.
“Are you here out of your own volition?” the priest asked, looking at me. I found his question really offensive considering he most certainly knew I wasn’t.
I stared at Andrei and then back at the priest. “Cut the crap, you already know I’m not.”
The old priest blinked at Andrei, his downturned eyes filled with confusion. “What does this mean?”
Andrei shot a glare my way and I returned it with one of my own. “Forgive me, Father. My fiancée is insufferable.”
Can you blame her?
“Common, malysh,” Andrei said, opening his blazer. It took a while for me to see the gun in his inner pocket. “Let’s not do this in front of the priest.”
The distraught look wrinkling the priest’s face made it evident he had no idea.
Was he really going to shoot me on our wedding day? I’d envisioned many ways I could die, and dying in a rag-looking white dress with a Russian staring down at me wasn’t one of them.
I wanted to die with honor and be remembered for the gift I’ll give the other girls in the world—a gift of being the one to kill Dante Paolo for his ruthlessness. There’ll be fewer missing girls when I do that.
Fewer young girls would end up missing for no reason if I succeeded.
We exchanged our vows, and I was more than happy to say, “‘til death do us part.” I couldn’t wait until that day.
Andrei slid a golden band with an enormous diamond at the center of it into my finger. It was beautiful and shiny. I’d never thought of getting married. I’d never imagined myself being bound to anyone.
“It looks beautiful on you,” he said, as if we were a real couple. I cringed, flinging my hand away from him.
“I wish I could say the same about you.” I slid another plain gold ring onto his ring finger. “Sadly, even a gold ring can’t beautify a pig.”
Andrei snorted, laughing at a joke made simply to humiliate him. “I love your sense of humor, malysh.”
I could’ve vomited. Instead, I was frozen in time as I watched Andrei laugh. Something about the way his lips spread and the way his dark eyes sparkled warmed my heart and settled a sizzle in my stomach. He looked beautiful, too handsome for a cold-blooded killer.
“One day, you will think of me as more than a pig. You’ll need me and beg for me.”
Just hearing him talk disintegrated the sizzle in my stomach. He was really likable until he opened his mouth. “Your voice is aggravating.”
“Yours makes me want to hear you moan.”
I opened my mouth, ready to attack him, but closed it when the priest broke into our conversation. I’d almost forgotten he was here. “If there’s any reason why this marriage should not happen, this is the time to speak up.”
There were lots of reasons why this marriage shouldn’t happen and absolutely no reason why it should.
But I kept my lips sealed when Andrei smiled at me, massaging the part of his jacket where his gun was safely hidden. And a feeble old Russian priest wouldn’t be of much help to me anyway.
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife.” The corner of the priest’s lips wrinkled into a smile. “You may kiss your bride.”
