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My head spun; I couldn’t take in his words. But the sight of a knife in his hand soon cleared the brain fog. “What is that?” I asked nervously.
He took my hand, freshly sanitized, and held it up for all to see. The ruby-and-diamond ring sat on my fourth finger. Renato nudged it up a few inches and set the tip of the knife on the skin underneath.
“Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood,” Renato intoned.
The fucker was going to cut me, right here in front of everyone, like some kind of barbarian. “Only this band – our union – holds the blood inside. Only this ring keeps you safe. A shackle you can never break,” he said quietly, and then pushed the blade against my skin.
He twisted it with the expertise of a man well-versed in leaving scars. I bit my tongue so as not to cry out. The slice burned, and blood dripped down my hand as Renato pushed my ring over the weeping wound, stopping the bleeding. It would leave a scar. A ring I could never take off. Marked, forever, as his.
He turned the knife around, holding the hilt in my direction. I took it from him slowly. The point was poised over his chest as he fiddled with his ring. I could kill him right here and now, before anyone could stop me.
No. You couldn’t.His men would cut me down immediately, and anyway, I was pretty sure he could disarm me in a second. He was so confident, though. He knew I wouldn’t try it. He knew the spell he had woven over me and the power he held.
You’re a very powerful woman now, Charlotte.
He offered me his bare ring finger, and I cut him just like he’d cut me. He pushed his wedding band back on, just like he’d done with mine, and pressed our bleeding hands together. Ruby droplets scattered across the skirt of my white gown, matching the ring. It seemed fitting somehow. Of course, a deal with the devil and a marriage born in Hell would be sealed with blood.
I was the demon’s bride, and I looked it, standing there with blood spattered across my dress, my hand clasped in a red grip. The applause was deafening, and then the shouts began.
“Bacci!”
“Kiss her, boss!”
“Bacci!Bacci!”
I barely had time to warn Renato before he was leaning forward.
“Don’t.” Suddenly the thought of kissing him in front of everyone and the thunderous cheers became too much. Too much attention, too much anticipation, too much guilt that I’d enjoy it, too much fear of what that meant.
“Stop me,” he murmured against my lips, sliding his hand around the nape of my neck and then kissing me hard.
His tongue pushed between my lips, sending a gale of fire roaring through me. He kissed me mercilessly, like he wanted to devour me, and I sagged into his chest and let him.
No, I didn’t just let him. I kissed him back. My mouth moved over his, and the feel of his hot skin burned like liquid fire. I stroked my tongue along his, and he gave a deep rumble of appreciation. When he pulled back, I nearly stumbled, but he was right there, holding me up.
What the hell had I just done? I shouldn’t be kissing him or swooning against him. Lucy and I were his prisoners. I was losing my head here and forgetting who was good and who was bad.
Renato was the villain, the blackhearted mob boss who had just forced me to marry him, and I was going weak at the knees from his unwanted kisses.Are they unwanted, though?I shoved that thought violently from my head.
In the rest of the room, oblivious to the roller coaster of guilt and shame I was riding, the music started up and the party began.
The De Sanctis men who hadn’t been invited to the wedding – the sheer number of them made that impossible – were here to celebrate theircapo’snew bride.
Renato leaned in to speak to me. “You have ten minutes to show your face here.”
“And then?” I wondered, though the heat creeping through me warned me of what he was going to say.
“Then we’re going upstairs,bambina, and you’re all mine.”
22
RENATO
Charlotte’s hand was cold in mine as I led her from the ballroom. The music and noise of celebration fell away as we made our way through the twisting labyrinth of Casa Nera.
There was no tiredness to my step. I’d been waiting for this moment all week.
Tonight, I’d fuck the woman I’d chosen to be my bride, the one strong enough to stand up to me and carry the De Sanctis legacy and heirs with grace. Charlotte wouldn’t crumble in the face of adversity. It just wasn’t in her character. She didn’t know when to quit. It was one of the many things I admired about her.
