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Chapter Five
Elena
The clock is about to strike midnight, and my heart is racing. I am sequestered here in the hotel room that will become the honeymoon suite after I say ‘I do’. Isaac has prepared everything for us. Or rather, his servants or possibly his family have. I don’t really know how that works.
What I do know is when I came back from leaving those two sisters at the café, Ivana and Galina, I was met with news I didn’t quite expect. While I did expect my father to arrange a marriage, I didn’t exactly expect him to want to have the wedding tonight. But somehow, he and Isaac have cooked up this whole thing where we are eloping tonight. And then I flit off with him to Spain tomorrow. So, no chance to say goodbye to my old life, myself, or any friends I have back home.
I’m sweating bullets and glad for more than one reason that the dress I wear is black. I don’t know how I got away with it getting through my father who went dress shopping with me, but one of the few designer dresses we could find at a boutique willing to open specifically for us for this event tonight, was black. Half sleeve, black tulle, with a few red, gray, and white flowers. The back is almost completely open, and I look like the harlot, the other woman at a funeral for an elderly rich man.
It’s fitting, really. For the same reason that I wore black to this event in the first place, I wear black to my wedding tonight. Though, the meaning may ring truer this time.
It doesn’t matter that I’m nervous. It doesn’t matter that I’m not ready to give myself to this man who doesn’t even like women, just to consummate the marriage contract. It doesn’t even matter that I won’t get to see my own bed anymore.
Because before the wedding is over, I’m going to take the hairpin that is holding my dark curls up in a beautiful updo, and I will shove it straight through his eyeball. It’s going to go through to his brain, and that is going to be the end of Isaac Ungur.
It’s going to be the end of my life being taken over by my father and other people. This is the fucking end of men telling me what to do with my life.
And there’s no reason to worry about me having the balls to do this, because I know I have those. It’s just about failure. Failure to hit the right place, failure to have enough strength to get it all the way through. But I made sure I found the sharpest hairpins I could at the store. And if I have to break one apart for good measure, then, hell, I will.
But the groom won’t be surviving the night. There will be no marriage bed, no hotel suite. And I seriously fucking doubt the Clans are going to do anything about it. Because if they did, they would have to admit all the other bad things they do just to get theporciinvolved.
So, it will be a new life for me. And I will finally be free.
There is a knock on my door; my father, no doubt. I open it and frown at him. Just because I don’t intend to have to actually go through with this doesn’t mean I’m not going to give my father hell for putting me through this to begin with. He’s going to know my complete displeasure before I actually go through with this.
I wrap my arm around his, but I also walk as slow as possible on purpose. We’re going to be late. My father wanted to marry us at the stroke midnight in La Libreria; the room that has been rented inside the hotel that Luca and Isaac are staying at. It is a library, but one meant to be a venue full of secret little rooms and corridors. It’s almost like a library and speakeasy in one. This will turn out well for me, considering there’s probably a good way out through this place. It’s probably pretty secluded compared to the other venues inside this hotel. In fact, if I heard right, it is in the basement.
In Romanian, I have let my father know my distaste for this. I don’t call him out completely because I will do that the minute that Isaac is dead instead. But he will know that it makes me sad that he wants me to leave now without saying goodbye. He wants to just send me off to be somebody else’s problem.
A long walk doesn’t last long enough, and I find myself being led into the room, ushered to the sound of the wedding march.
How boring and typical for an event like this. At least go for something unique, maybe dark, considering both of us are heading into a forced marriage.
Down the aisle, I look up at the groom to be. Isaac is particularly stunning in his designer suit. If I’m not mistaken, I believe it’s an Armani. And instead of the traditional black and white, it is a charcoal color. I don’t know if it’s because he couldn’t find anything else on short notice or simply to go against the grain, considering all of this is nontraditional.
He smiles at me and puts on a good act as if I am beautiful and amazing. He is trying so hard to make this a good night for me.
The library is beautiful, and I can’t deny that. If I were to have a wedding in Rome, this would be a good place for it. But his demeanor, his fakeness just serves to make me angrier. If it would kill him fast enough, I would just wrap my hands around his fucking neck and choke him to death. Even if my father is the mastermind behind this, it isn’t right of him either. My father may have begged for the marriage contract, but he accepted it, knowing he doesn’t even like women. He doesn’t fuck with women at all if what I hear is right. So, why be supportive of this? Why is he even pretending?
His brother and I would have a better time of it than me and him, but his brother is useless because he’s not the Clan leader. And none of it matters. I’m going to wash my hands of every person in this room within the next 30 minutes.
I get to the end of the aisle, my father goes through the whole traditional thing; giving me away, my hand placed into Isaac’s from my fathers’ before he takes his place in front of us to also perform the nuptials.
I face Isaac in my black dress, my face stoic as my father drones on and on in a mix of Romanian and English and even a little bit of Italian about the life I’ve had, the life he has led, and about how our life will be full of a faithful love for each other.
Ha! No way would a gay man be faithful to me. I wouldn’t be faithful to him either. The result is a fucking joke. If I wasn’t waiting for the right moment, I would just say so.
He finally gets to the part where he asks if anyone objects, and I swear I hear a scoff coming from one of the Clan men that has been brought to witness this wedding. Apparently, it’s some kind of law that these mafia people have that one of them has to be present. This one’s name is Stefan. Dalca, I believe.
Looking away from Isaac for a moment, the resemblance between him and Luca really is uncanny, but I can still tell them apart. Luca has this bad boy look about him at all times. He seems totally real, even if he’s probably a dick. Isaac always has this appearance of being sociable and kind and all these good things that he’s clearly not. Because if he was, he never would’ve accepted this, or he would at least have asked my permission before basically forcing me to sign the contract.
Nobody speaks up and protests, and so my father drags on, until he gets to the vows. Isaac goes first, luckily, to build the drama. He promises to love and cherish me forever and blah blah blah. All lies, so it doesn’t make me feel guilty. I don’t shed a tear and even pretend like I feel something about this. Why would I? This is not my wedding day. Not the one I should be having.
I wait until it’s my turn to say my vows. My father tells me to repeat after him, and that’s when I pretend to have a moment of hesitation. I put my head down and wipe my eyes as if there are tears. Not tears because this is my wedding day and it’s beautiful and overwhelmingly emotional, but tears because I don’t want to get married to someone I don’t know. I reach up and fidget with my hairpin. At first, it appears like a nervous tic, like I am thinking.
Luckily, my father and Isaac are both gracious enough to wait for me.
“I don’t know about this,” I mumble. “I don’t know if I can go through with this.”
