Her face stills at my confession. I mean every single word. I’m truly horrified with myself on ruining any chance I have with her on creating chaos. Murder. Forcing her to marry me.
I pull her delicate hand up, slide off her current engagement ring and start to slide her forever one on her finger. She slides mine on as Father Roberto recites.
“Lord, let these rings, a sign of their faithfulness, remind them of their love for one another and recall the grace of the Sacrament Through Christ our Lord. Amen”
We both respond. “Amen.”
Father goes on to say, “The power vested in me by all Holy God and the state of Chicago, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Her eyes widen at his answer, and she tries to pull her hand out of mine. I tighten my grip. Her hand is warm against mine. The moment that my skin touched hers, I felt tightness in my chest.
I pull her in, she lets out a gasp, and I slide one arm around her waist. Reluctantly let go of her hand and place it on the nape of her neck. I lean in, my eyes darkening as I watch her lick her soft, plump lips, a few droplets on my blood coating her bottom lip. Her gaze is locked on me. I smirk before I crash my lips on to hers. All the screaming, cancels out, leaving just me and my wife. My tongue caresses her bottom lip making her open her mouth. I slide my tongue in her warm, hot mouth demanding more. I need more. Pulling her in close, she grips my suit jacket and lets out a soft moan. The kiss is consuming. The kiss is demanding. Fuck this woman. Then she bites down on my bottom lip breaking the skin, and I let out a deep growl.
She breaks the kiss, leaving us both breathing heavy, and me with a raging hard-on.
“I couldn’t resist kissing those lips,” I mumble hoping she did not hear me.
Her face reddens at my confession, and I chuckle, removing my hand from her neck and I drag my thumb across her bottom lip to collect my blood and smear it all over to stain them. “I prefer my blood on you, and it will be the only blood that touches your skin.”
“Dad, are you just going to sit there?” I hear Isabella’s sister yell at her father.
Isabella turns to look at her sister who is crying next to the podium. Isabella shakes her head to let it go. But the look on her sisters face is anything but wanting to let it go. I peer out of the corner of my eye and see her brother’s face is red from holding in his anger. He glares at me, sending imaginary bullet into my head, I’m sure. He’s not the only one, and he would need to get in line.
Their father ignores everyone around him. Ignores the screaming from Di Marco and his family. Costa stands up, hismen around him as he goes to leave with his son behind him. Mrs. Costa ushers for her youngest daughter to follow her.
She stops before leaving. “Isabella, you can wipe that horrible look off your face and be grateful a more powerful, handsome man has agreed to marry someone like you. Honestly, you should be thanking your father for this.” Her voice is dripping with annoyance and the need to point my gun at her and blow her head off is an urge I have to push down. “Lucia, stop making a scene. You’re embarrassing yourself and us more than Isabella.”
Lucia pauses, looks at Isabella with a sadness before she follows her parents. Her brother, Joesph stops and nods his head before leaving. Isabella gaze follows them as they are leaving, and I slip my hand into hers. She whips her head to me with a look of anger and hatred at me. I lace our fingers together and I grip on to her hand, so she does not try to wiggle out of my grasp.
I tug her down the aisle with me to leave the church my men are still barricading the Di Marco’s and making sure no one approaches or interrupts. Angelo is at my back and two of my men at my front. My other, my trusted men open the door leading us out front to my black SUV.
“I want Eduardo watched to make sure he does not try to retaliate. I have suspension that snake is going to want to revenge his sick piece of shit son’s death.” I grunt to Angelo.
He nods his head in agreement as he opens the door, and I usher Isabella to climb in first and I follow. The door shuts, Angelo whispers in Dante’s ear before leaving to instruct my men on my orders. Dante gets into the driver’s seat.
Isabella wraps her arms around herself, her eyes looking out the black out, bullet proof windows with her body pressed against the door. She does not want me near her. Too fucking bad since she is now my wife.
Before Enzo gets into his SUV, I hear him give orders to his men. His voice is deep and commanding, sending a shiver down my back. I still am in shock over what took place moments ago. I was walking down the aisle to marry a man I hardly knew and did not want to marry. To now married to another man. Ian’s blood has dried on my white dress and on my arms.
My mind keeps replaying the kiss. Oh my god, I let myself get caught up in his kiss. My first kiss. His lips were soft against mine, and I felt my body come alive with need. I opened my mouth more for him, letting his tongue into mine. The kiss turned deeper. Turned rougher. I found myself with my hands gripping his jacket, pulling him into me. His hand on the nape of my neck, holding me and controlling this kiss, controlling me. His other hand around my waist. In that moment, I felt wanted and desired until reality came crashing in and I bit his fucking lip. Though watching him chuckle and then smear it on my lips sent a direct line to my pussy, making her throb with need. I should not feel any of this. My new husband just murdered the man I was set to marry today. This man makes me want to run far away but at the same time, I want him to ruin my life and lock me away forever.
The door shuts, making me jump in my seat. I keep my arms wrapped around my middle, scooting as close as I can to the door, looking out the window and trying to ignore my new husbands presence. It’s almost impossible to not ever since the night I met him all those months ago at my party. The way himbeing close to me sends shivers up and down my body. His body heat makes me squeeze my thighs together.
Suddenly, I’m riddled with anger that cancels out my lust for my new husband. I spin my head to look at him, and the words came spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “All of you mafia men are all the same. Taking what you want for yourselves without thinking how it affects others or the aftermath. Women are just an object with no opinions or some trophy to collect on your fucking mantle. All we are to be used for is to make an heir, well you’re insane if you thought I would let you touch me after what you have done. You killed him for––––––––”
He drags my finger gently down my face, and I try to smack his hand away. “I have killed for much less.” My eyes are locked on his. “If I recall you’re the one who pulled me in when the priest said I could kiss my bride. You seemed to like my touch then.” I go to turn my head not wanting to look anymore at his handsome face and he catches my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t ever put me into that category with men who don’t worship the women who are by their side. My wife, you will always have a say and an opinion. You are not an object or a trophy, you are my partner, my wife until my last breath I take on this earth.”
My mouth is dry, letting his words sink in about how he sees this marriage. I nod my head, accepting what he has said and keeping my gaze on the city whipping past us.
I glance down to my new wedding rings. I would never tell the monster sitting next to me that its beautiful. The tear- shaped blue sapphire in the middle is set with three diamonds on each side, paired with a matching gold band featuring the same diamonds. The one Ian had given me felt more like a statement piece of jewelry rather than an engagement ring. This one feelspersonal like it was picked or designed for one person. It’s not flashy and doesn’t feel like I am being weighed down.
I fiddle with the rings, twisting it around my finger when Enzo’s deep voice stops me. “When I saw this ring, I knew it was the perfect one because the sapphire reminded me of your eyes.”
My focus is on the stone in the middle of my ring before I move my gaze to his left hand that is resting on his thick muscular thigh. I did not even pay attention to what his looked like when Father Roberto was blessing the rings. It’s a thick gold band that makes his tan skin glow, with blue sapphires throughout the ring and small, tiny diamonds in between. Most men in this lifestyle refuse to wear their wedding rings because of the symbolism of being tied to one woman. Almost every single man that I knew, including my father has a mistress or some have multiple and fund their lives. We live in a man’s world and the mafia is very much a man’s world.
Enzo doesn’t speak a word to me the rest of the drive out of the inner part of the city. I watch as the buildings, townhouses, stores pass us by all while debating how much it would hurt if I just open the door and throw myself out of the moving car. I catch a glimpse of Enzo in the window and fight the urge to do so.
His head is bent down, typing on his phone. I take a moment to really look at my new husband. There is a little scruff on his face, but not too much to make him look not put together. The slop of his nose meets the bow of his lip, the very ones that were on mine not too long ago. His brow furrows with his jaw tight at something he is reading on his phone. I tilt my head slightly as I see the tattoo peeking out of his suit. It’s on his neck. I can see what looks like to be a skull with flames burning and it goes up to his ear.
