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This is what I get for all the half-truths. If Kaye and Sienna could understand what I’m running from, they wouldn’t be so nonchalant about it. But it’s my fault for not confiding in them that the man who assaulted me is also the man I’m supposed to marry in June. I didn’t want them to freak out, and Nic thought we could spare them some concern if we fibbed. Now look at the mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.
I throw back the curtain and stand before them, partially clothed in a wedding dress that I haven’t pulled up past my waist. “Listen because I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Niccolo is not conventional. We’ve blurred a lot of lines together, lines that society frowns upon. And yes, I’m marrying him to get out of another marriage, but it would have happened eventually. Nic understands me on a level so much deeper than anyone else ever has. And whether we get married next month or five years from now, nothing will change. I love him. Our journey might have been a little messy, but who has the perfect love story? Really? Tell me one couple that didn’t have to go through struggles.”
Silence falls upon the room. For a long minute, we stand there staring at one another, tension mounting with each passing second until finally, Sienna breaks the quiet with a whisper. “That’s a really nice bra. It makes your boobs look great. Where did you get it?”
We dissolve into fits of giggles, the gravity of the moment shattered by our laughter. I pull up the dress, covering myself while shaking my head at the two of them. “I should’ve picked more serious bridesmaids.”
Kaye and Sienna walk over to assist with fastening the dress’s closures, their hands moving with tender grace. “But where would be the fun in that?” Kaye remarks.
I wince as the dress cinches tight against my ribs, a reminder of why we’re doing this.
In the beginning, I thought Niccolo came up with the idea of getting married so he could claim ownership over me. Getting married would mean that no other man could have me. I’d have a ring on my finger and an MRS that warned off the boys.
But my uncle deliberately allowed a man with a notorious mean streak to beat me until I blacked out. My future fiancé took great pleasure in delivering every blow in an effort to teach me a so-called lesson.
If I have to marry into this lifestyle, I’d rather marry into it for love.
Love with a man that respects me.
Love with a man that would do anything for me.
Love with a man that would never put his hands on me the way Rocco Castiglione did.
Chapter 45
Niccolo
My mantra has become: Never let Christine out of my sight.
My brothers insist that it’s impractical to watch her every second of the day. But I know better. For the right price, you can do anything.
I have carefully selected security guards who are constantly on high alert, their eyes trained on Christine’s every move.
Sometimes she’s aware of their presence, like now as she embarks on wedding dress shopping with her bridesmaids. The guards stand outside in their crisp black suits and earpieces, reporting back to me every ten minutes.
But occasionally, the guards seamlessly blend into the sea of students at Blackmore, remaining unrecognizable while she is oblivious to their presence. They go to class with her and make sure she is safe at all times—and she is none the wiser.
After finding out she was in the hospital, every second felt like an eternity as I waited for her call. I thought that I would go crazy and rampage through the city before she called. Silas Stone gotback to Dante with news that she was awake. She called me a few minutes later.
I wasn’t mad at her for what happened. How could I be?
According to Christine, her uncle and Rocco ambushed her on campus. She had been going about her usual routine, nothing out of the ordinary, when she decided to take a shortcut behind a building that she usually didn’t take. And that’s where they appeared, blocking her path with sinister grins and menacing intentions.
I almost had to take Dante up on his offer to beat the shit out of him when I hung up with Christine. I was so upset by what her uncle had allowed Rocco to do to her that I was murderous. I knew it was retaliation for going against him. I knew it was a response to the Terlizzi family putting out an announcement that we would marry in February. I knew it was a message.
Yet, I found myself relegated to the sidelines, my anger festering helplessly. It didn’t matter if it was a message, a warning, or a lesson—as Rocco so graciously called it. I couldn’t do anything.
But as it turned out, Christine’s savior, Jackson Reid, is connected to Kaye’s mom. I offered him a reward for saving Christine’s life, but he graciously refused, deeming it a fair repayment for insulting her on Thanksgiving. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I let it go because whatever happened at Thanksgiving couldn’t possibly have been as bad as what would have happened if he hadn’t stood up to Giovanni and Rocco.
Christine tells me that she’s getting better day by day, but every time I catch a glimpse of the dark bruises that mar her beautiful face, I get angry all over again.
When Giovanni backhanded Christine for disrespecting him, I let him get away with it. I warned him not to touch her again; I told him what would happen if he put his hands on her again. He may not have been the savage beast that beat Christine, but he gave the order. And he’ll pay for it.
In the silent moments in between classes…
In the early morning hours before my alarm pierces the silence…
In the late nights when I delve into the depths of poorly written psychology papers…
