A Public Claim
Santino stopped me as we stepped through the chapel doors. He turned to me, letting go of my hand and adjusting my veil and train so they flowed elegantly behind me.
“I had a bridesmaid for that,” I hissed, determined to keep the bite in my voice throughout this whole circus.
“I know,” he said, almost apologetically. “She’ll be here soon. We won’t start without her.”
My eyes widened. “What? What do you mean? How is she coming here? You better not have hurt her!”
He rolled his eyes, grabbed my hand again, and walked us into the chapel. The ability to speak disappeared the moment I took in the exquisite interior. I’d always loved this church, but only the extremely wealthy or famous got married here.
The entire aisle was decorated with pillar candles in large lanterns, and more candles hung from the ceiling. Petals of every shade were scattered down the aisle, and gigantic bouquets of flowers stood in tall glass vases at the end of each pew.
Santino’s finger brushed under my chin, forcing my mouth shut as he smirked at my reaction. “Try to smile and not look so shocked, or my family might think I kidnapped you or something.”
I glared at him, then my gaze fell on the faces at the front of the church. Shit. His family. I thought he was joking about them being there. There was a man standing on the platform at the end of the aisle who looked like an older version of Santino. Then I spotted someone I recognised for a different reason. The bearded, tattooed biker from earlier was sitting in the front row. He’d removed his helmet and was wearing a suit jacket over his T-shirt, but it was definitely him. The others at the front were women. They were all stunning, wearing elegant outfits and smiling at me as if I were the holy grail. My eyes swerved to the stoic and emotionless faces of more men, all dressed in black suits, sitting behind them.
The chapel doors burst open with a flurry of activity and yelling as Allegra hit and wrestled a younger man who also bore a striking resemblance to Santino. Heglared at Santino as if he wanted to kill him where he stood.
“Worst. Job. Ever. Now you owe me, dickhead.”
Santino chuckled, rubbing his jaw as I cried, “Ally!”
She paused when she heard my voice. Her hand was attached to a metal handcuff, which was smashed against the boy’s face as she tried to push him away. The other handcuff was attached to his wrist.
“Aria! Oh, thank God! You’re alive! At first, I thought you’d run away from the wedding without me, so I went looking for you, but then this…” She glared at the boy. “…wannabe man-child abducted me! He said we were going to your wedding and that he was my date! I tried to tell him that one, I was already at your wedding, and two, never in my life would I date someone who was in nappies when I graduated from high school!”
“That was just a warm-up wedding,” Santino said, barely concealing his amusement as the teenager and Ally kept shoving at each other. “This is the real thing. Raff, you cuffed her to you? Really?”
“Look at her! She’s scrappy!” he chuckled, flicking her hair to rile her more. “You said I couldn’t drug her. She nearly scratched my eyes out and kept trying to run, so I had to do something.”
“He threw my phone out of the car window! Is he even legally allowed to drive?” she yelled, then remembered what we were all there for. “Wait. You’re marrying him now? You’ve changed your mind? But I thought—”
“She came to her senses,” Santino cut in before I could answer. I glared up at him, and he smiled. “So, shall we?”
I exhaled a deep breath that made my shoulders sag, mouthing ‘I’m okay’ to Allegra as she was dragged past me and down the aisle to sit with the other guests.
“That’s Raffaele, my nephew. I wanted you to have someone here who means a lot to you, but I didn’t want to scare Allegra by sending one of my men. He was the best option.”
I glanced at the older, intimidating version of Santino and the bearded biker and understood. But if he thought I’d thank him for it, he’d grossly overestimated my manners.
“The not-so-good-looking version of me with greying hair is my brother, Giovanni.”
Giovanni Buccini. Holy shit. The nerves ramped up. I was about to marry a mobster in front of his family. Were they all in on this? Did they know I was being forced into this marriage against my will? Of course they bloody did. They were criminals. Like they cared.
“And that hairy fucker is Maximus, my cousin. And his wife, Camilla. And the four ladies on the other side are the most important women in my life, besides you. My brother’s wife, Olivia; my sister, Soraya; my niece, Liliana; and mymamma, Cecilia. My older sister, Elenora, couldn’t make it. She had a gallery opening, and she’s pissed as shit at me for springing this on her so late that she couldn’t get out of it. That’s your fault. But she’ll forgive you.”
The room was swaying. I barely registered any of those names. It all felt too surreal. How casually he was briefing me on his family, as if I weren’t standing in a wedding gown at the end of the aisle while they all sized me up for the first time.
"And all those men?" I choked as my gaze bounced around the most intimidating faces I'd ever seen.
His lips turned up at the sides. "Employees and colleagues."
AKA more criminals.
I closed my eyes tight and pinched my arm.
Wake up. This would be a great time to wake up.
