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“Hmmm…” He nodded. “Everyone else said me or Ash.”
“Like father, like son,” I said.
His face fell. “Yeah.”
I didn’t ask if Phoenix was there; I didn’t have to, because when the door opened, he was standing right next to my dad, full black matching tux and dark circles under his eyes.
He held out his arm. I clung to it and reached for my dad.
I didn’t know that both of them were walking me down the aisle, but it made sense in a gory sort of way.
Junior had been killed by my soon to be husband.
And my soon to be husband was the new boss of the De Lange Family, and once upon a time, Phoenix had held that birthright only to cleanse himself from it the minute he became the Nicolasi boss and was able to escape the darkness of his past.
It was full circle in the worst sort of tragic ways.
The arm of the Five Families that Phoenix so desperately tried to forget was about to thrive under the protection of the Cosa Nostra again, and every time he had to see Ivan, he’d remember how it was achieved.
The wedding march sounded.
Guests were staring at my dress like I’d already created a grave sin. I held my head high.
Phoenix’s grip on my left arm tightened. “I approve of the dress.”
I smiled through my teeth and whispered, “I won’t let the world burn, and if it does, I’ll take him down with me.”
“Good girl,” Dad said from my right. “Be brave.”
“Already am.” I stared straight ahead at Ivan.
His eyes were locked on me, something that looked like approval glittered behind the green irises and as much as I hated him, he smiled a real smile, like this wasn’t the worst day of both of our lives.
I still remembered his angry kiss, his hands all over me, being stuck in the shower with him and wanting more but feeling embarrassed at the same time, and then of course him making fun of me again only to claim me in front of all of the Families like a whore.
God, I was going to die a virgin, wasn’t I?
He would never touch me.
I’d be a laughingstock while he slept with other women.
But I’d keep the peace between the Families.
Sacrificing every need and desire I had—for the devil himself.
“Who gives this woman?” the priest asked, standing in all his pure finery, holding his Bible in his hands like he wasn’t officiating a wedding in front of murderers. Like he wasn’t marrying one off.
Dad cleared his throat. “Her mother and I.”
Serena stood as my maid of honor, I chose black and red as my wedding colors and every single one of the girls standing up with her, Lydia, Raven, Tempest, Anya, Arial, and Serena herself had gorgeous black dresses on with veils over their eyes.
Epic. To say the least.
We were mourning, after all.
“And who stands in for the De Lange line?” the priest asked.
The church fell completely silent, still, tense.
