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“Finish this,” I tell the vicar.
He goes to a table next to the altar, produces a register, and turns the big book toward me. “I’ll need documentation to make this legal.”
Dragging Sabella with me, I go to the table. She stumbles a step before righting herself. I take the papers from my inside jacket pocket and slide them over the tabletop.
The vicar unfolds the documents with trembling fingers, eyeing me suspiciously as he does so. When he’s gone through the stack, he hands me a pen. “Sign your name here.”
I write down the details and sign before giving the pen to Sabella. She does the same.
“We need witnesses,” the vicar says in a high voice. He clears his throat and manages to utter in a somewhat more normal tone, “Two.”
I turn to our audience, enjoying how they shuffle their feet even as they glare at me with hatred. “Ryan. Margaret.”
They shift to the end of the pew, walk to the table, and sign the register.
Our marriage is legal, acknowledged by the church and the state. It’s very convenient for me that religious marriages in this country are also legal. In my country, only a legal marriage is recognized, but any marriage certificate is accepted, which means Sabella is my wife here as well as on home soil. Everywhere. Anywhere I want her to fulfill her marital duties.
The vicar scribbles something on a perforated sheet that he tears from another register. He hesitates a moment before handing it to me.
I snatch the marriage certificate from his fingers with a taunting grin that makes him cringe.
Leaning so close to him that I can smell the garlic he ate for dinner in the sweat oozing from his pores, I ask with enough menace to turn him pale, “Do I need to come back here?”
He shakes his head, trying to cling to his dignity, but under his robe, his knees are trembling.
“Do you need an incentive?” And I don’t mean money.
Understanding contracts his pupils. He knows very well I’m referring to a bullet.
“No,” he says, still shaking his head.
“Good.” I straighten. “Because you heard her.” Looking at Sabella, I add, “She begged for this.”
She flinches.
The guard next to Colin asks, “What about them?”
Sabella turns her big, pleading eyes on me. “Angelo.”
A deal is a deal. She did beg very prettily on her knees.
Cupping her face, I brush a thumb over the soft skin of her cheek, giving the promise to her instead of to them. “They can go.”
The housekeeper moves to the exit in a haste. Margaret reaches for Sabella. Ryan clenches his fingers. Colin looks as if he wants to punch the man who finally releases him.
Wrapping an arm around Sabella’s waist, I pin her to my side. “But…”
They all freeze.
Sabella tenses in my hold.
“If anyone causes trouble,” I continue, “Iwillbe back. For Sabella’s sake, I hope that won’t be necessary.”
Ryan steps toward us. “If you hurt her, I swear to God, all bets are off.”
“Don’t worry.” I pull her tighter against me. “I’ll treat her fairly.”
He gnashes his teeth, no doubt biting back an insult.
