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“Good,” she says. “He deserves it.”
“Are you okay?” I ask her softly and steer her toward the bar. “Let’s get you a drink.”
She doesn’t argue with that. I order an expensive bottle of champagne, pour her a glass, and watch her down it in two gulps. Lanzo and Gareth join us and drink their own champagne while quietly discussing the pros and cons of Russian prisons versus the American system, which is morbid but apt.
“I’m really okay,” she says after a long pause. “I didn’t think I would be, but honestly after we talked it all over, I think I’m fine. Weirdly, I think this might be a good. Dad’s been on the run since we saw him at the manor and I just—I think it’s good for the family to put this behind us. He needs to do his time and let everyone around him heal from this total mess.”
“You’re right but it’s still got to be hard.”
She runs her finger around the rim of her glass thoughtfully. “If I’m honest with you, it’s a relief. It’s one less thing to worry about. And it vindicates me. Now maybe the rest of my family will see the truth about him and maybe the truth about themselves.” She raises her glass and I refill it. “But here’s to wishful thinking.”
I laugh, clink her glass with mine, and watch her take a sip.
“Okay, you two, done with the private moment?” Gareth asks. “I’m hungry and Lanzo’s about to ditch out if we don’t get something to eat.”
“Sounds good to me,” Brice says and she’s about to get up but I put a hand on her thigh and hold her back.
“Actually, I’ve got one more thing to do, if you two don’t mind?” I wink at Lanzo and he grins back. The fucker knows what’s coming. Somehow he always knows everything. There’s no use in hiding things from that chaos monster.
“We’ll get a table in the dining room,” Gareth says, looking skeptical, but they stand and head out.
Brice look sat me quizzically. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is more than okay.” I take her hand in mine and raise it to my lips. “I love you. You know that, but I want you to hear it every single day, at least once. I love you because you gave me something I never dreamed I’d have, which is a little bit of light in the middle of all this darkness. You made me see that there can be good in the world, so long as you’re in it.”
She smiles and touches my face. “I know I’m great but what prompted this speech?”
“I made a deal with your grandfather. I promised I’d marry you, but back then I was doing it for selfish reasons. Now, I’m doing it because I want you, Brice. I want you to be my wife and share everything with me.” I reach into my pocket and take out the ring.
Her eyes widen. “Carmine. Really?”
“Really. Marry me. Be mine. Forget your family and forget mine. It’s just me and you, Brice, me and you forever. I love you.”
“Yes,” she whispers as happy tears roll down her cheeks. I wipe them away but I’ll never shame her for feeling what she feels, not like her family used to. “I’ll marry you. I love you so much. You gave me enough darkness to stand up to my father and I’ll always be grateful for that.”
I bury her mouth on mine then slide the ring onto her finger. “Perfect,” I whisper.
The kiss is perfect. Bliss, heaven, everything wrapped in one. Her taste is like an angel singing down my throat and I never want to do, and it occurs to me that I never have to ever again.
This is my fiancée. Myrealfiancée.
And soon she’ll be my wife.
Chapter29
Brice
Six Months Later
The church is strewnwith ribbons and flowers as I stand up on the altar with Carmine. It’s the oldest Catholic church in Philadelphia and the place is magnificent and absolutely packed: the entire Scavo Famiglia showed up to watch their Don get hitched. When Carmine said we had to get married in Philly, I didn’t even consider arguing—why the heck would I? Dallas has been nothing but heartache and pain for me, and I want this wedding to mark the start of something good.
I can barely hear the priest. I’m completely unaware of the people watching us. My grandfather and grandmother and uncles are sitting right up front and they look so utterly uncomfortable surrounded by mobster families, but I don’t care if they feel like they might get whacked at any moment. I’m done worrying about whether my family is comfortable. They can be a part of my life or not, but it’s their choice and I’m not going to waste a single second worrying about what they want or need or think I should do.
To hell with them. This is about me.
And Carmine.
I stare into my fiancé’s eyes. In moments, he’ll be my husband. The idea sends a fresh wave of butterflies into my belly. I’ve always wanted this and now I have it and in a way I never dreamed would be possible. Love always seemed so fleeting and so distant but Carmine’s here, he’s flesh and blood, and he’s forever. We exchange rings, say the vows, and dimly, distantly, I hear something aboutkiss the bride, and then I’m in Carmine’s arms, he’s pulling me against him and kissing me so deeply I feel it down into my toes, and the whole church explodes into applause and cheering as the mobsters go wild. I’m blushing and grinning and Carmine pumps his fist in the air and his five best men are all laughing—Angelo, Gareth, Ford, Lanzo, and Evander—and my bridesmaids are wiping their eyes. Even Sara seems moved, which is, like, beyond amazing for Sara.
