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More shuffling and sniffling follow. The doors open and close. Silence again.
“I’m waiting,” I say, addressing my bride. I raise a mocking brow. “Unless you changed your mind?”
Holding my gaze, she kneels in front of me. “Please, Angelo.”
I follow her down with the gun, the barrel now aimed at her head. “Please what?”
Her voice comes out hoarse. “Please, marry me.”
I click my tongue. “You can put a little more effort into it. Convince me.”
A flame of defiance licks in the depth of her eyes, but she purses her lips and goes on all fours before bending down low and pressing her lips first on my right shoe and then on my left.
A single tear runs down her cheek when she sits back on her heels. “I beg you, Angelo. Marry me.”
Her groveling doesn’t leave me unaffected. Gripping her arm, I help her to her feet. She stares up at me with loathing and fear yet also with a glimmer of hope.
I nod at the guard flanking me. He grabs Colin and flings him into the front pew on the right.
“You heard her,” I say to the vicar. “She wants to say yes. Speak the magic words so that she can give me her answer.”
He glances at the pistol in my hand and says with a nervous twitch of his left eye, “Can you put the weapon away?”
I tuck the gun into the back of my waistband under my jacket and lock my hand around Sabella’s a little too tightly, making sure she’s not going anywhere even though I know she won’t run while I’m keeping her family hostage. She cares too much about them.
The vicar stumbles over the vow as if he can’t recite the holy sacrament fast enough.
When she says, “I do,” she doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t meet my eyes. She stares at the space in front of her as if she doesn’t see anything at all.
I don’t let her escape my gaze when it’s my turn. Splaying my fingers over her cheeks, I turn her face to me. The pressure of my fingertips leaves white marks on her skin when I say, “I do.”
A heartbeat later, I push both her engagement ring and the wedding band onto her finger before placing my own ring on her palm. She battles to slide it over my finger, but I don’t help her. I let her wiggle the ring until it fits against my knuckle.
It’s done.
After three long years of fighting bitter battles and paying in blood for what’s always been mine, we’re married. Husband and wife.
The silence is complete as I lower my head to kiss my bride. She doesn’t kiss me back, but she doesn’t pull away either.
Someone cries softly. Her mother, I think.
A gasp of distress cuts through the air.
Sabella stiffens.
We turn.
Her sister stands, one hand resting on her belly and the other on her lower back. “I think my water broke,” she says in a small, surprised voice.
“Mattie,” Sabella exclaims, trying to dash toward her sister, but I catch my wife’s wrist.
“Make sure she gets to the clinic,” I instruct one of my men.
Matilde purses her lips. “I’m not going without my husband.”
I tilt my head toward the exit, indicating the husband can go.
There’s a commotion as Matilde, supported by Jared, is escorted outside. Everyone is on their feet except for Colin. Not that he’s not trying, but the guard standing next to him holds him down.
