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In the middle of a church full of people, he slams his fist into my jaw. My legs go numb, but Alessandro and Tomasso keep me from falling, forcing me to remain standing in front of the vile old man. I can feel blood trickling from the corner of my mouth where my lip split open again. A drop splats onto the white dress, followed by another and another.
The priest starts to talk, his voice booming over everyone.
Sobs burst from me, and I keep shaking my head, repeatedly saying, “I won’t.”
Only Greco says his vows, and I’m not even asked to say ‘I do,’ then the priest announces, “I pronounce you husband and wife.”
“No!” I shout, the sound echoing around the church.
The church doors creak loudly, and everyone turns to see what the disruption is.
My entire body goes weak at the sight of Viktor shoving the doors wide open with a gun in each hand. Light streams in behind him, making him look like a god.
Rage comes off him in waves, quickly tensing the air. It looks like his features have been cut out of stone. He’s dressed in black cargo pants and a long-sleeve shirt, the same outfit he wore when he kidnapped me.
Viktor dips the barrel of his gun in the bowl of blessed water and slowly signs the cross as his eyes drift over everyone until they stop on me.
“MoyaMalen'kaya Roza,” he murmurs, a flicker of pain on his face when he sees the state I’m in.
“Viktor,” I whimper, straining against Alessandro and Tommaso to get free even though my legs are too numb to hold my weight.
All the heads of the Cosa Nostra rise to their feet, turning to face Viktor, who’s slowly stalking up the aisle.
He’s a sight to behold, all power and wrath – and nothing like the man who was kind and patient with me while I stayed in his house. There’s nothing sweet and caring about him.
The head of the bratva is here to take what’s his.
Thank God.
“What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Vetrov?” Mr. Parisi asks.
Viktor aims a gun in my direction, and his voice sounds deadly as he says, “You have something that belongs to me.”
Alessandro and Tommaso let go of me, and I instantly slump to the floor, chiffon billowing around me.
Before the guards can draw their weapons, shots ring through the air, making me jerk with each blast. I shriek when Tommaso and Alessandro drop dead on either side of me.
“Stop!” Mr. Parisi shouts. “Our families are here. Let’s talk like civilized men.”
There’s movement behind Viktor as the other four men of the Priesthood walk into the church. Heavily armed, they stand ready for action.
Intense fear bleeds through the church, murmurs fill the air, and people start to move, trying to get out of the pews and away from the Priesthood.
Using what little strength I have, I force myself up on my feet and say, “Did I forget to mention I belong to Viktor Vetrov?”
Greco gives me an enraged glare, but this time he doesn’t dare hit me.
Relief hits so hard, I start crying from absolute happiness.
Viktor came to save me.
Viktor’s eyes lock on mine. His eyebrows narrow, and his features grow tenser. “Who laid a hand on her?”
“Rosalie never told us she belonged to you,” Mr. Parisi says.
For a moment, Viktor closes his eyes as if he’s a second away from losing his shit, then he growls, “Who. Hit. Her?”
“Greco,” I say, my voice loud and clear.
