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I move her so quickly she lets out a squeak of surprise as I position her so she’s straddling my lap. One hand moves up her back and gathers the hair at the nape of her neck in my fist. “When it comes to your safety, there is no such thing as overthinking. I will overthink every single decision that impacts your health and safety for the rest of our lives, and that’s just something you’re going to have to learn to live with.”
Snow sighs, her eyes dropping closed as her mind wanders to another solution. But there isn’t one. Her only option is to spend the night here with me, and she’ll be lucky if I even allow her to sleep in another room within the house, let alone in a house across the city.
“I know this is hard for you, Snowflake, and I’m sorry our wedding can’t be everything you dreamed it to be, but once this is all over, I’ll make up for it, okay?”
She nods slowly, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes that I quickly wipe away.
“Please don’t cry,” I murmur.
“There will never be time,” she whispers. “You forget that I know how this life works. Just because one threat is neutralized, it doesn’t mean the rest are. We will never be safe. I will never have the freedom I crave, because you will always be overprotective and overbearing.” Before I can stop her, she moves herself from my lap and strides across the room, slamming the door on her way out.
In almost any other circumstance, I would likely find her outburst amusing. But the reality is, she’s right. It’s been this way my entire life, and it will be the same until the day I die.
When you’re part of a Mafia family, you’re never safe, and that’s a painful reality we’ve both had to grow up with.
53
Snow
Like every little girl I know, I spent most of my childhood imagining the future I would have. I had dolls that I pretended were my children and friends I swore I would have by my side for the rest of my life.
But there was one day I played over and over in my mind, dreaming up everything I could ever hope for, and then some.
My wedding day.
Visually, the church is exactly what I envisioned. My dress is the princess style I always wanted, my hair is curled down my back as I imagined it would be, and my sister is just as radiant in her deep crimson dress as I knew she would be.
On paper, my wedding is exactly what I dreamed of all those years ago. But my reality is something else entirely.
All the nights I spent dreaming of my wedding, I never thought I would have a gun strapped to my thigh, or a knife sewn into the boning of my dress. I never thought I would be marrying a man who my family has always considered to be the enemy. And I certainly never imagined my wedding would be used as a ploy to draw out whoever is fucking with both families.
And yet here we are.
The soft lace and harsh boning digging into my ribs are such a direct contrast it holds my mind in the here and now each time it starts to wander. All the things that could have been. The fact my father isn’t the one walking me down the aisle, and my mother isn’t here to give me last minute pieces of advice. The fact my brothers were almost uninvited altogether and now hover nearby, as if waiting for the penny to drop and Elijah to pull out some nefarious scheme.
Wynter readjusts the back of my dress for the tenth time since we took our place behind the door at the end of the aisle. The veil my mother wore on her wedding day is delicately draped over my face and having something of hers so close to me allows me to feel like she’s here with me.
“Stop fussing over her, Wyn. You’re making her nervous.” Emerson takes one of my hands and squeezes, a gesture of silent support. While she’s only been in the family for a few months, I consider her to be every bit as much a sister as Wynter, and she has each of us so perfectly worked out, I almost can’t believe it some days. “How are you feeling?”
I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath. I could lie to her, but she’d know. It’s her job to know when people are lying or skating around the truth. “Nervous,” I admit.
She nods, sympathy shrouding her emerald eyes. “I was sure I was going to need to stop halfway up the aisle and throw up when Rayne and I got married.” She smiles affectionately at her husband.
“She was basically hyperventilating by the time she made it to me.” He chuckles, taking long strides across the small space and bundling his wife up in his arms.
I meet Storm’s thunderous eyes by the door and offer him a small smile. It’s not much, but it’s all I can give him. We’ve always had a strained relationship. It comes with the territory I suppose but it’s never been more so than it is now. The fact I’m going against his wishes and marrying Elijah is seen as a betrayal, and I don’t entirely disagree with his logic. If you told me six months ago that I would be standing here in my dream wedding dress, about to walk down the aisle and marry Elijah Russo, I would have laughed in your face. Even now, the idea is preposterous, but it feels right.
Even through all the planning and fear, the closer I came to this moment, the more settled in my choice I was. Something inside tells me I was meant to be with Elijah, and I’ve never been one to argue with my gut before.
I take a breath and take another look at my family. Both my sisters, and all three brothers. A family forged through trials and tribulations, and we’re about to gain another member, even if half of them aren’t happy about the choice. “I know you think this is a huge mistake, and you think I’m only doing it as a way to get a rise out of you, but I can assure you that I’m not that big of an idiot. I wouldn’t tie myself to another person for the rest of my life unless I was absolutely sure it was the right choice, especially not someone in a family like ours. I’m well aware that the only escape from a Mafia marriage is death, and I quite enjoy breathing.” I half laugh at my attempt at humor and glance down at my dress again. It truly is a work of art. The designer pulled it together so quickly I’m truly not sure how it was even possible, but I don’t question how they got it done.
Storm sighs, his eyes softening as he follows the same path my own had a moment ago. “I don’t think you’re an idiot, Snow. I think you’re a bright, incredible, beautiful young woman who has their entire life ahead of them, and I don’t want you to make any mistakes you can’t take back.” He pauses, something I don’t recognize crossing his gray eyes. “All I ever wanted for you and Wynter is for you to be happy, and you were… right the other day when you said I shouldn’t judge Elijah based on who his family is because we’ve never done that to Everett. I am still hesitant about this arrangement, but I will no longer interfere.”
I smile and hold my hand out to him. He takes it immediately and tugs me into an embrace that, for once, doesn’t feel foreign. It feels right. “Thank you for being here,” I whisper.
“I wouldn’t miss your big day, Snow.”
Music fills the church on the other side of the door and panic fills my lungs, taking up all the space air would normally occupy. Am I really doing this? Am I really marrying a man I considered to be our enemy a month ago? And am I really going to do it with a threat hanging over our heads?
