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“Well, good luck, Luka. You’re going to need it.” I walk away from him and head straight toward Delaney. I cut in between her and her father, watching him step back a little. Then I take his place, holding onto her.
“What are you doing?”
“We are dancing at our wedding reception.”
“Why, Luka?”
“Why not? Isn’t that what you do at receptions?”
“Whenone actually wanted to be married, yes.”
“I’m going to give you a good life, Delaney.”
“I don’t want your kind of life,” she snaps and tries to pull away. I just pull her in tighter.
“This will go much smoother when you get on board with it. We’re married now.”
“Divorces happen all the time,” she says casually.
“I’d much rather see you dead before you divorce me, Delaney. Remember that. We don’t divorce in this family. You’re a Bianchi now.”
“Not by choice.”
“No, not by choice.”
We continue dancing. Although I can feel her discomfort, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t care that she isn’t comfortable with me right now. Eventually, she will come around.
The rest of the room stays strangely quiet as the music plays for only the two of us. This isn’t a real marriage as far as Delaney is concerned, but to me, it’s all real. This is exactly what was supposed to happen.
I keep Delaney pulled in close as we keep moving to the music.
“You realize no one else is dancing,” she says.
“You think I care?”
“No. I don’t think you care at all.”
“Then why bring it to my attention?”
“I just thought you might like to know your reception isn’t going as planned.”
“It’s going just fine,” I tell her before spinning her and pulling her back into me. Delaney holds onto me but doesn’t really like the idea of touching me. I can tell.
“One day, Delaney.”
“One day what?”
“One day, you’re going to want me, and I will make you beg for me. You will beg for my cock to be buried inside you, beg for my tongue to make you come.”
“You’re sick,” she hisses.
“You’re trying to act like I don’t affect you, and that’s a lie, Delaney. It’s all a lie. We’ve known each other for too long. We’ve been close for too long.”
“And yet you kill everyone I care about,” she tells me.
“Is that what this is about? They deserved it, Delaney. How many times do I need to tell you this?”
“Clearly more than once.” I smile now. How could I not? She likes pushing me, and I like the pull I feel when she does.
