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63
IRINA
Holy shit.
“Where’s he racing off to?” Madison asked, stepping into the living room. She held her volunteer application for Fresh Start clutched tightly in her grasp. I’d promised to take her with me to the office, introduce her to the kids, and help her get settled in through the initial awkwardness of being the new person in an unfamiliar place.
“To get a wedding ring it would seem,” I said, chuckling in disbelief.
That fucking man.
“Wait, what?” Madison asked, a broad smile consuming her face. There was something strained there though, some uncertainty as she played the happy and supportive friend.
I nodded to the couch, gesturing for the girl I’d come to think of as a little sister to sit with me. I adored her, but I couldn’t help but feel like I’d failed her in a monumental way.
First with my inability to cope, and then with my distraction with Scar in the recent weeks.
“You know you will always have a home with us, right?” I asked, taking her hands and guiding her to sit.
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said, waving a hand to brush off the moment of affection. I allowed it, letting her pull away and raise her application. “I suppose you won’t be going into the office today after all, huh?”
“It would appear that I am not,” I said, touching a gentle hand to her jean-clad knee. “I can help you fill out the application now.”
“I think I’ve got most of it,” she said, showing me the front page. I skimmed through the document, my gaze snagging on her full name written on the paper in tiny, neat font.
“I didn’t even realize I didn’t know your full name,” I said, my mouth curving around the syllables in front of me. “Is that Irish?”
“O’Breagadoir,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “Quite the mouthful.”
“I’ll say,” I said, chuckling and reviewing the rest of her paperwork. She’d filled it out thoroughly, checking off all the boxes except for the personal references. I scrawled my name into the first space, telling her to put Ivory’s name in the second.
The other woman had come to love Madison as much as I had, cooking her gourmet snacks every day when she came home from school. It comforted me to know that if anything ever happened to me, Matteo and Ivory would take care of her.
The other woman must have sensed us talking about her, coming charging in through the door to our suite without a single concern for the privacy Scar usually demanded.
She squealed when she saw me, closing the distance between us and taking my hands to pull me to my feet. Wrapping her arms around me tightly, there was absolutely no doubt that Scar had informed her of his plans on his way out the door.
Her face lit with pure joy, tears pooling in her eyes when she pulled back to look at me. “Thank you,” she said, her voice tight.
“For what?”
“For loving him enough to wait for him to pull his head out of his fucking ass,” Ivory said, laughter bubbling up her throat.
“I’d have waited a lifetime for him if I’d known he’d be there waiting for me at the end of it all,” I said, grunting when she pulled me into another hug.
“I know, and now he does, too,” she said, taking my hand and pulling me out of the suite. Madison smiled with a wave as we left, hanging back as Ivory took me to the living room to gather enough alcohol to get me through whatever Scar had planned for the night.
A priest was already waiting in the kitchen, though my would-be fiancé was nowhere to be found.
* * *
My father was going to kill me.
Scar slid rings onto my finger. “I, Paolo, take you, Irina, to be my 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 us part,” he murmured, the affection—the love—in his eyes making my heart stop as I fought back the surge of tears. I tore my eyes off his to look down at the rings gleaming against my skin.
The wedding ring itself was simple: a diamond-studded band that curled around the breathtakingly unique engagement ring that had taken him endless hours to find. The sun had long since set by the time he’d returned, the darkness of night descending on the estate while I waited for him to return, wondering briefly if I’d pushed too hard.
If he’d retreated from me again, finally, after all this time.
“Don’t ever let anyone clip your wings again, Butterfly,” he said softly, while a sob hitched in my throat as I studied the engagement ring intently.
A round emerald glimmered at the center, surrounded by a ring of diamonds. Framing the gemstone, four oblong diamonds were placed in the shape of a butterfly on each side.
It was perfect. “Don has accumulated quite the list of connections with jewelers over the years,” Scar said with a chuckle, making me turn a teary stare toward the older man who watched the ceremony from the sidelines.
I mouthed a thank you, knowing that, while I would have loved any ring Scar put on my finger, this one was special.
This one was us.
He nodded his head, his own eyes shimmering with the tears I felt in mine.
“Never,” I whispered, letting the words strengthen me. Never again would someone break my spirit. Not when I had Scar waiting to watch over me, waiting to make the hard choices that I was incapable of doing in the times where life seemed like too much of a struggle.
He didn’t try to fix me. He just gave me the chance to piece myself back together into something new.
Father Alessi snagged my attention, continuing with the words I needed to repeat. I nodded, taking the brushed tungsten ring from him and sliding it onto the finger of Scar’s outstretched hand. “I, Irina, take you, Paolo, to be my 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 us part.”
The ring settled over the scars covering his fingers, hiding part of the ink he’d used to disguise the burns that marked him with the years of abuse he’d endured before me.
“I’ll skip over the boring ‘shit’,” Father Alessi said, turning a rueful glare Enzo’s way. The other man laughed from his seat curled up on the couch with Sadie, tossing his head back as some kind of inside joke passed between them. “I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Paolo De Luca. You may kiss your bride.”
Scar didn’t hesitate, lifting his hand to wrap around the small of my back and tug me into his chest firmly. The moment the thin fabric of my blouse touched his suit, sparks flew between us. His mouth descended on mine slowly, moving against me in a tender way that never ceased to take my breath away.
The dominant man who commanded me on my knees. The gentle man who whispered sweet nothings in my ear when he thought I was asleep.
There were so many versions of Scar that no one else would ever see.
Somehow he’d convinced himself that he wasn’t deserving of love, but I knew the real truth. He deserved so much more than this world could ever offer him, but he’d have to settle for me and the knowledge that neither of us would ever be alone again.
He’d said he would follow me into death, and I believed every word of the declaration. I wouldn’t live without him, either. “Until death,” I murmured when he pulled away. He touched his forehead to mine, nodding against my skin as our friends, and the family that had adopted me as one of their own without question, watched in solemn silence.
Death came for us all eventually.
* * *
