Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
This is all wrong.
But my feet keep moving until Pierre deposits me in my position. Kennedy touches my hand, giving it a brief squeeze.
Then Adriano’s stare grabs me and won’t let go as the priest begins to speak.
I have no clue what the old man’s saying.
All I can hear is my hammering heart, and all I can see are Adriano’s lips, his eyes, that deadly, cold gaze, that beautiful hair.
This man tied my hands behind my back and fucked me into submission.
And I don’t know a thing about him.
Panic threatens to overwhelm me. If I weren’t up in front of the people I hate most in this world, I’d break down in tears. But I can’t let them see me tremble. This crowd would leap on me at the first sign of any weakness and tear me to shreds.
Grandmother would be the first one in line to drink my blood.
“Easy, little wife,” Adriano whispers when we finally exchange rings. He leans forward. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine.” I hold his hands, per the priest’s instructions. They’re warm and callused. He’s got little scars around his knuckles like they’ve been broken open a thousand different times. Those are the hands of a fighter and a killer.
Adriano says the vows first. He pins me as he does it, not looking away, speaking loudly and confidently. There’s a strange possessive yearning in him, something I’ve never seen before. It makes a thrill run down my spine.
And then it’s my turn. “I, Lucille Willing-Morris, take you, Adriano Marino, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful, supportive, and loyal, and to give you my love and friendship through all the years to come, ‘til death do us part.”
The priest spreads his arms wide. “It’s my great pleasure to present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Adriano Marino. You may kiss the bride.”
Adriano slowly lifts my veil. I look at him, my mouth hanging open. The church is empty, and the whole world goes still. There’s nothing but him, my dark prince. My evil sinner. My shadow and death. He’s too damn sweet and stained with everything wrong and good.
When he leans down, I meet him halfway, eager to lose myself in him.
The kiss is lightning. It’s electric and it burns. I sizzle and bend and give myself over. It’s everything a church kiss shouldn’t be. It’s filled with promise, wet and horrible promise.
Then it breaks apart, and everyone’s standing and clapping, and Kennedy leads me back into the waves of grinning bastards as the wedding churns over into the lavish reception.
Adriano
Fucking married.
I sit at the bar with Lev and Luca, drinking while the two of them trade war stories. Carmie’s with Bianca; the two of them are probably harassing guests into following some strictly defined entertainment schedule.
I don’t know where my wife is.
I don’t know why I care.
There are fifty hardened mafia men hanging around the Crystal Tea Room, plus a dozen more bodyguards assigned to the high-society bastards. There’s no way a Gray Wolf assassin could get anywhere near her.
Except something keeps itching down my spine. I want her here, right next to me, where I can make sure she’s safe.
That fucker Demir got under my skin, which is probably exactly what he wanted when he approached earlier.
A steady stream of Capos, made men, and society people stop by to congratulate me. I shake hands, exchange pleasantries and business cards, and do my best to be professional.
All the while, I’m smoldering inside.
“You look like you need a break,” Lev says, grinning like this is the most fun he’s had in forever. Knowing that crazy Russian, it probably is.
“What I need is another drink.” I gesture for more whiskey. It’s good, but not as good as that hundred-year stuff Bianca swindled from me earlier. “Has anyone seen Lucille?”
“I can go find her if you want,” Luca offers.
But before I can tell him to do it, Bianca comes hustling through the crowd. She’s saying something into a headset, her expression grim. “We need you,” she says. When I don’t react, she nudges my shoulder. “Right now.”
“I didn’t realize you were talking to me.”
“Hilarious. It’s time for your first dance.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Don’t be difficult,” she says through her teeth. “Get your ass up.”
I’m about to tell her off, but I stop myself. First dance means I’ll be with Lucy. And if she’s in my arms, nothing can touch her.
Reluctantly, I get up. Bianca seems surprised that I’m not fighting harder.
“Well? Let’s fucking get this over with.”
“Good luck, big guy,” Lev says pleasantly. “Have fun.”
I ignore him and follow my sister toward the dance floor. My head’s a buzz of conflicting emotions. I’m thinking of my father in his wheelchair. I’m thinking of the same wheelchair waiting for me. I’m thinking of a family, of children, of Demir and his threats, of that lying witch Helena Willing-Morris.