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It took everything I had to suppress the rising bile, but I knew how much I was getting under his skin with these statements.
"The shoes, by the way, are from the oldest cobbler in all of Naples. The bridal bouquet alone cost over a thousand euros. Not to mention this venue." I knew how much I was teasing him. It annoyed him that the de Archards had not only shot down his threat but were now making a mockery of him by turning the forced wedding into a big party that would be remembered by everyone who attended.
"Sounds like you've finally come to terms with the idea," my father replied, grinning at me through the mirror. So far, I hadn't turned to him, and I wasn't planning to change that.
I shrugged. "If I could, I would run away this very second. Life in Scandinavia doesn't sound so bad, does it?"
At that very moment, I knew I had made a grave mistake and taken it too far.
Before I could step down from the low platform, my father grabbed me by my hair and pulled me down. I lost my balance, and he let go of me out of reflex, causing me to land on the floor. The air left my lungs as he kicked me hard in the ribs. Half buried by my wedding dress, I stared up at him.
He had already raised his hand, and I knew he also had no problem hitting me but a kick in the ribs was more inconspicuous than stepping in front of the altar with a bloody lip, thus subliminally insinuating something to the de Archards.
I shook my head at his behavior, but also knew I would not be able to get back on my feet on my own.
"You're going to get your act together, marry this idiot, and make me even richer. If I have to, I'll hold your legs open while he mounts you." I felt the tip of his leather shoes on my side. He was applying pressure to the spot he had kicked.
"You are so pathetic," I replied, laughing at his statement.
"I agree with you," growled another voice. I jerked my head around, discovering that Vincenzo had entered the room without us noticing.
"Get out of here," my father hissed.
"I'd like to have a brief conversation with my future wife," he replied, sounding almost level-headed.
"But since she's not your wife yet, there will be no talking."
"I don't think we quite understand each other, Taddeo. You will leave this room immediately, and if I see you raise your hand to my wife again, you will have to do without in the future." His dark gaze sent one icy shiver after another down my spine.
I definitely did not want to be the one who received his threats. Involuntarily, my body began to tremble.
"Here, let me show you what I think of that," my father replied, yanking me to my feet and punching me in the face. That immediately knocked me off my feet.
He took another swing but didn't get to place another blow. Vincenzo intercepted his hand in mid-motion. My father yelped in pain. It looked as if Vincenzo would crush his hand with sheer muscle power.
"Get out of this room, Taddeo. And don't think you'll lead her down the aisle." Vincenzo let go of him, only to push him toward the door.
To my surprise, my father left without comment.
Vincenzo reached out and helped me get back on my feet. "Thank you," I murmured and lowered my eyes. I was still shaking. And all the work that had gone into my hair and makeup had probably been for nothing.
"To your father, you stare stubbornly, but when I help you stand, you start shaking? Am I that scary?"
"No," I replied immediately, out of reflex. I couldn't possibly tell him I had heard the rumors.
"We still have a few minutes. So enough time to limit the damage," he assured me, turning to face the mirror and stand behind me.
I felt the warmth emanating from his body and even dared to eye him. The suit was definitely tailored and midnight black. I could tell he exercised regularly. Of the three brothers, his coarse, sharp-edged features showed his age the most. Emilio and Dario still carried a certain youthful charm, while Vincenzo had already experienced quite a bit. The dark shadows in his eyes revealed not all of it had been good.
Nevertheless, he possessed the same forbidden attractiveness as the other two men and a natural authority I had never perceived in Emilio. Vincenzo was a born leader. Emilio had only followed in footsteps far too big for him to fill.
With strong fingers, he slid through my hair, straightening a few of the barrettes and clips until it no longer looked like I had a bird's nest on my head. I didn't ask where he had learned to do this. I didn't dare ask him anything at all.
Emilio was the brother who I had a good connection with. Who would answer my questions.
But Vincenzo? I didn't trust him as far as could throw him.
"Does he always act like that?" Vincenzo asked softly, snapping me out of my thoughts. His gaze sought mine in the mirror.
