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“You’ll do fine.” His words were as stilted as my mind felt, emotionless where I was ready to lose myself to the ache of sadness.
You can do this.
Just breathe.
You’re in control.
But that wasn’t the truth. After this moment, I would no longer be in control of anything including my own destiny.
As we finally landed just inside the doorway, the familiar sound of ‘Here Comes the Bride’ began to play. I’d never realized how much I hated it until this moment.
Everyone inside the church stood, their anticipation easy to read on their polite faces. After taking several steps, the fog lifted, which not only allowed me to realize just how many people had turned out for the vile event but also allowed me to catch sight of the man I was supposed to marry.
Daniel Thorn shouldn’t be so handsome, distinguished in a way that managed to steal away my breath. I’d always thought of Mafiosi as repulsive creatures with greasy black hair and round bellies from overindulgences, most with bad teeth and crooked smiles. After all, monsters were supposed to live in the bowels of darkness where they were chained to their hungry deity, the devil himself. But the man standing in front of the altar was something else entirely.
Maybe he was the devil reincarnated, a creature of such beauty that once he captured you with his piercing icy blue eyes, there was no chance of escaping his dark and dangerous lair.
As I was escorted down the roll of thick red velvet carpet, I couldn’t help but envision I was floating in a sea of blood. It was impossible to take my eyes off my brutal yet alluring fiancé as he waited with a casual, seductive smile on his face. Everything about him was beautiful, the dim lighting of the hundreds of flickering candles and subtle track lighting illuminating his bold, chiseled features a perfect visage for a girl who’d grown up believing in fairytales.
Wasn’t it true that most girls dreamt of their perfect weddings to their charismatic Prince Charming, a man who would forever protect her against the evils of this world?
At least now that I was an adult, I’d given up on little girls’ dreams, a woman’s reality something else entirely.
Perhaps there was something to be said for arranged marriages, especially between two powerful families, but I wanted nothing to do with being a puppet for a man who’d use then throw me away when he deemed it appropriate. Yet here I was, fulfilling a promise made, prepared to enter into the most unholy union.
It had been a long time since I’d been inside a church, my beliefs torn away by the ugliness of my past. While ornately decorated with thousands of roses, the scent was as disgusting as the realization of what I’d agreed to.
As my father and I neared the altar, Daniel’s eyes studied me intently, his heated gaze that of a predator in the wild, a big, bad wolf or famished lion ready to feast on its prey. He was tall, with broad shoulders and muscles that I sensed he’d use when crushing the life out of one of his enemies, and I had no doubt he had several. His entire ruthless family did. I’d read enough articles to ascertain I was dealing with a clan of brutal savages intent on taking what they wanted without falling under the guise of right versus wrong.
There was no such thing in their world.
Even though Daniel was rugged, his muscular physique and large hands weapons in themselves, he had an air of grace and composure to him accentuated by his meticulously fitted suits. Today was no exception, his aura shining like a beacon of sin, his penchant for violence harnessed for the wedding of the century.
There were at least a thousand guests, members of the rich and famous, all no doubt required to partake in the festive event. I was stiff and uneasy, taking the steps I’d practiced long and hard for three weeks. This was D-day, the beginning of a new life. By some women’s standards, I should be grateful, joyous that I’d spend the next chapter in luxury, but instead I was horrified at what our vows would require.
And what I’d become.
Even worse than the anxiety that was close to becoming crippling was the anger with myself for finding him so attractive. When I was finally next to him, I realized just how large his gorgeous frame was in comparison. While I stood five foot seven, taller in heels, he dwarfed me, adding to the moment of utter suffocation.
“Sei stupendo, una visione di arte e bellezza e mi togli il fiato.” His deep baritone sent an array of shivers down my spine, standing as sleek and powerful as a panther.
He was American through and through, his blue blood considered royalty, yet he spoke Italian fluently as if it was his native language. I’d read he was multilingual. I was lucky my mother had required me to learn Italian as a child, her Italian heritage something I’d tried to forget. Thanks to her insistence I not be allowed to forget my ancestry, I could understand his words. I felt heat rising from the base of my neck, almost paralyzing in its extreme rush of adrenaline.
You are stunning, a vision of art and beauty, and you take my breath away.
I looked up at Daniel to find a seductive grin on his too red lips, their fullness drawing me into filthy thoughts of kissing him for hours. I forced myself to pull away from his soul-sucking eyes, determined to get through the blasphemy with courage and grace.
This was the purest form of deception, a quiet drift into the shadows of evil.
“I hate you and I always will,” I whispered, knowing no one could hear my blasphemous words.
“So be it, my soon to be wife.”
We were building a kingdom together, a house made of glass and steel, built on the bloodshed of others. My heart raced with a toxic combination of terror and excitement. That in itself was dangerous.
As the ceremony began, I continued to remain lost in a haze of anger and self-imposed loathing for lusting after him.
However, loving him wasn’t allowed.
