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But none of it stops me from standing up when Father McCallum asks if anyone objects, and speaking up.
I see Gia flinch as my voice rings out through the cathedral. I feel everyone around me go absolutely still. As I step forward, walking around the other guests in the front row and striding towards the couple at the altar, I can feel the prickle of oncoming violence in the air.
It was all I could do not to force her to go back out to the car when I saw her walk into the cathedral’s nave in her bridal finery. It took everything in me to place her hand in Pyotr Lasilov’s, knowing what I do about the Bratva, knowing what they’re capable of.
The priest’s question was my last chance to put a stop to this. And I couldn’t stop myself.
I can’t allow her to be handed over to them. I know the fantasy she’s crafted in her head, who she imagines her fiancé to be, and the thought of how that will break her when she understands that it’s all a lie shatters me.
I’m the only one left who can protect her. I might fail her father by doing this, but it’s better than failing her, when I’m all that remains between her and misery.
And there’s only one way that I can think of that will mean the Bratva cannot take her. That Igor can’t come to me tomorrow, and demand I give her back, that the wedding agreement be fulfilled. Only one way to ensure that Pyotr Lasilov will never have her, until I can think of some other way to mollify them and prevent bloodshed.
I can see, out of the corner of my eye, as I stride to the altar, three of Pyotr’s security moving towards him from where they were stationed in the right corner of the church. I twitch the fingers of my left hand at my side, a signal for my own security to move out of the pews, towards me. Protection for myself and Gia, as I see the Bratva beginning to move, readying themselves for violence. But I have no intention of any blood being shed today.
“What is the meaning of this?” Igor Lasilov walks quickly forward to meet me, his blue eyes blazing angrily in his face and his expression set in hard, furious lines. “You dare interrupt this wedding, Don Morelli? The time for objections was when we last spoke?—”
“And I raised them. You refused to hear me.” I feel my jaw tighten as I stare him down. “This marriage was arranged by the late Don D’Amelio, but I am the don now. Don Morelli leads the New York mafia, and I do not agree to this marriage. If I say so, the former betrothal is null and void.”
Igor’s eyes glitter dangerously. “And you say so?”
I hear Gia’s soft, shocked gasp to my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her trembling, staring at me in horror, her hand still in Pyotr’s. I want to snatch it away, to stop him from touching her this very moment, but I wait. I can feel the tension radiating off of him, too, and I wait a beat, and another, until my security surrounds us. Until Igor’s men are outnumbered.
And then I face him and speak, my voice calm and even.
“I do say so.”
“Salvatore!” Gia cries out, and I see Pyotr pull her towards him. The click of the safeties on a dozen guns echoes in the church, and the priest steps forward, his expression dismayed.
“This is a house of God,” Father McCallum says sharply. “There will be no blood here.”
“So it is. And a marriage is meant to take place here, today.” I turn, reaching for Gia’s hand—the one still clasped in Pyotr’s. He tries to stop me as I take her hand, turning her away from him, but two of my men step forward, their hands on their guns. “Pakhan, if you want to leave here alive, with your son, I recommend you tell him to take several steps back.”
Igor’s jaw is clenched so tightly with rage, I can almost hear his teeth grinding. “Don Morelli, I will give you one more chance to think better of this, out of respect for your predecessor and our agreements. Stand down, and give my son’s bride back to him. We will continue on as if nothing has happened.” He smiles tightly, baring slightly crooked teeth. “After all, I can understand. Your goddaughter is a beautiful woman. Any man would desire her. And you are the new don, now—you might be jealous that Don D’Amelio did not hand her over to you. According to the old ways, it would have made sense—you are his heir, she is his daughter. But he chose differently.” Igor’s gaze meets mine, unflinching. “You feel cheated, perhaps, of the pretty young bride who should have been in your bed.”
I feel Gia flinch. A hot anger burns in my chest, and it feels difficult to think clearly. I want to grab Igor by the front of his jacket and feel the satisfying weight of my fist meeting his jaw, the sound of bone crunching, to feel hot blood on my fingers. It’s been years since I’ve been in a bare-knuckle fight, since I’ve so much as pulled a trigger. Since I’ve been in the position to engage in the kind of violence that I enforced, once, when I was a younger man. When Enzo needed me for different things.
But that violence, today, will only make things worse. I can protect Gia with words, better than I can with my fists.
“Desire has nothing to do with it, pakhan,” I tell him tightly. “But you are right in one thing. I am the new don. And whatever I might have been party to before when Don D’Amelio made these agreements—I have changed my mind. The old deals no longer stand.”
Igor chuckles darkly. “So you have no plans to take her for yourself? You claim you don’t desire her? That you don’t think of my son in bed with her, and feel such jealousy that you would stand up and break the treaty Don D’Amelio so carefully crafted?”
“Not out of desire.” I grit my teeth. “But Gia was entrusted to me to protect. And I will accomplish that here, now. No one will touch or harm her once she’s mine.”
Gia gasps, trying to pull her hand out of my grasp. “What? No—Pyotr!” She turns, looking frantically for her former fiancé, but Pyotr has already been backed away from the altar by my security, he and the other Bratva guards being slowly herded towards the church doors. Several more of my men move towards Igor, urging him back as well.
“You’re outnumbered, pakhan. Go.” I nod towards the doors, my hand still wrapped tightly around Gia’s. “There will be no bloodshed today if you leave now.”
“Maybe not today, Don Morelli. But there will be blood for this. You can be sure of that.”
The look on Igor’s face is murderous. I have no doubt, not in the slightest, that there will be consequences for this—and that those consequences will come soon.
But for now, all that matters is making sure that Gia is safe. That they will not take her. That Pyotr will no longer want her—that she is not valuable to them or this alliance. And there’s only one way that I can accomplish that—to make certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is mine to protect.
I have to marry her instead.
Gia
