Page 77 of From Rome, With Hate

“Shit.” I bend over and plant my hands on my knees, hanging my head between my shoulders. I don’t know what Iwould do if I lost Julianna. “Okay.” I breathe out, pulling myself to a stand. “I don’t know what she could have to tell me that can’t wait until after this but…”

“Everything will be fine.” Marcus gives me a soft, closed-mouth smile.

Fuck, he’s a damn good friend. And bodyguard.

I nod and clap him on his upper arm. “Thank you, Marcus.”

“Of course,” he says, moving around me. “I’ll wait for you both here.”

I point toward the bridge as I walk backward and head toward the house. “Careful of the boards. It’s kind of old.”

Marcus glances at it with raised brows. “Perfect.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I tried to warn Julianna, but she insisted.”

“The woman has great taste.” He shouts the closer the farther I get from him, “For a Capuleti!”

I’m still laughing, already feeling slightly better, by the time I get to the house. I take the steps two at a time and head straight for the single bedroom. The slate door is ajar. I wrap my knuckles against it, not wanting to barge right in.

“Lark?”

“You can come in.”

I stare at the floor as I make my way inside.

“What are you doing?” she asks, sniffing.

I grin, even though she can’t see my face. “Bad luck to see you before meeting you at the altar. Shit, I mean bridge, not altar.”

She laughs.

Oh, good. She’s laughing. A bride who’s having second thoughts doesn’t laugh on her wedding day. Right?

But why does it sound like she’s been crying?

She sniffs again before her feet appear in my line of sight, wearing white satin heels with delicate feathers attached to thestraps around her ankles. I’m grinning at her glittery silver-painted toenails.

“I can’t talk to you when you refuse to look at me, Rome.”

“Lark…” I sigh. “I’m trying to stick to tradition here.”

“You’re cute,” she practically sings. “Ridiculous but cute.”

“You love me,” I tease, forcing my hands behind my back to keep from touching her. She’s standing so close to me, but I know if I touch her, I won’t stop.

“I do love you,” she replies softly. “Which is why I need to tell you this before we go out there, and I need to see you when I say it.”

I groan before slowly lifting my head. The air is stolen from my lungs when I see her.

She’s wearing a short mini dress made of lace and bows. Some sort of corset boning structure runs across her ribs, leading to a skirt billowing out at her hips. Delicate white fabric rests off her shoulders, each strap tied into a large bow resting against both her arms.

I bite my lip to stifle a groan.

“Fuck, Lark.” I blow out a heavy breath. I’m fucking dizzy just by looking at her. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

She rubs her hand nervously over her stomach as the corner of her crimson red-painted lip pulls into a grin. “Really?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I move closer to cradle her face in my hands. “I’m so fucking lucky, this is insane. I’m in a dream, right? Are you real?”