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But all I could see was the black darkness. It was so dark that I couldn’t even see the stars.
I looked down at my hands, fisting them in a futile attempt to stop their shaking.
I hadn’t been expecting a fairytale wedding today. But I also hadn’t expected what had just happened: a bloody wedding. Of course I’d heard about them. But I had never experienced one and I had always hoped to God never to witness one, never mind have it happen on my very own wedding day.
A Mafia bloody wedding—the stuff of nightmares. When the families turned on each other, and the wedding turned into a slaughter. I still didn’t understand what had happened and how Jess could have been shot.
I’d been kidnapped by a maniac, I thought, as a shudder ran through my body. I had expected to lose my family today when I moved to Chicago. However, I never thought that I might lose my sister in a shooting, nor my freedom.
By now, tears of fear and confusion were leaving a trail down my face as we flew through the night. I turned to Marco. “Do you know if Jessica…is she alive?” I forced the words out. It was as if saying them out loud made what had happened real.
He remained silent.
“Please just tell me that. Please just tell me if my sister is alright.”
“I imagine she will be fine,” he answered, clenching his jaw.
“How can you be so calm about it? My eighteen-year-old sister’s been shot and in a church of all places.”
“The whole fucking thing was planned by your precious Società. Therefore, they would have had a doctor on standby and she would have gotten medical attention straightaway. It didn’t look as if the bullet hit a major blood vessel.”
“What do you mean that it was planned by my family?”
Marco narrowed his gaze at me. “The shot your sister took was meant for me. This whole engagement and marriage were just a sham to lure my family to L.A. to take us out.”
“You can’t be serious?” I felt my face pale, and I was too shocked to even cry anymore. “My own family shot Jess?”
“Yeah, and you and your sister are just collateral damage in the whole shit-show.”
I was horrified, but I also knew I couldn’t trust anything a Marchiano said to me. My head felt as if it was splintering into pieces as someone hammered nails into it. I rubbed at my temples, not that it helped. I didn’t think there was anything that could help me to feel better at this stage.
Marco got up and disappeared to the back of the plane. I looked around and saw his brothers and sister seated further away from us. They didn’t say anything to me, obviously hating me because the Società was their enemy.
I sank back into the wide leather seat and closed my eyes, willing my head to stop pounding. I was glad that Marco had gone elsewhere in the cabin because I couldn’t bear to look at him right now.
Whatever he claimed, I knew that his men were definitely the ones that had shot Jess. My father would never endanger his own family by allowing a shootout at the church.
My mind was in turmoil.The man I was supposed to marry had kidnapped me.I had already been fearful that my new life with this man would be difficult, but now I was absolutely certain that my life with him would be a complete nightmare.
I was feeling drowsy, probably due to the drug Marco had injected me with, and I must have drifted off again because the next thing I felt was someone touching my arm.
I forced my eyes open to see what was going on.
Marco was bent over my arm. He had thrown me to the ground when the gunfire had started, and I remembered gashing it. He was inspecting my wound and feeling it gently with his fingertips. “You’re lucky. This won’t need stitches. I’ll clean it up for you and put a dressing on it.”
“Lucky? I don’t think anyone could consider me lucky after today,” I whispered.
I didn’t have the physical energy or mental strength to fight him anymore, so I just rested my weary head against the seat and let him treat my wound.
MARCO
She was a good actress, I’d give her that, pretending not to know about her family’s plan today. She was smart enough to pretend ignorance, but that wouldn’t save her now.
I examined her wound and then proceeded to clean it. It wasn’t a kindness. I didn’t want it getting infected—she would be of no use to me dead.
Although I loved the sight and feel of blood, I could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn’t feel the same.
It was a fairly minor injury, and it just needed cleaning up and then I’d keep an eye on it. I gave a twisted smile. “I like the sight of your blood. It gives me satisfaction to see you bleed.” I could feel her pulse beating much too fast under my fingers.
