3
There’s Nothing But Pain
New York, Present Day
I wish you were still here; life isn’t the same without you. —Izzy
Izzy
“Ifanyoneobjectstothe marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
I do. I object. But of course, I can't say that aloud. The words catch in my throat, and I remain silent, a prisoner to my own heartache.
The room remains still, the weight of my unspoken words hanging in the air, asmy fate is sealed.
Lucas takes my hands in his, and I force a smile, the corners of my mouth trembling as my heart breaks in two. I’d hopedhe’dcome—hoped he’d storm in, like a hero, and take me far from here. But he didn’t. I haven’t heard from him in over twenty years. He’s probably long forgotten about me by now.
“By the authority vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Lucas tugs me towards him, and his lips come down on mine hard. He forces his tongue into my mouth before pulling away with a satisfied smirk.
Flashes from the photographers punctuate the moment, their lights blinding, but all I see is the empty space where my family should have been. There’s no one here for me. No familiar face. No friends. Not even a shred of support.
I knew what I was getting into when I left Italy, dragging myself away from everything I knew. I knew that marrying Lucas would condemn me until I got the chance to ruin him.
Still, I really thought Enzo might come for me. How foolish I was. I’ve thought about reaching out to him countless times, but something has always stopped me.
I know who Enzo is. And I know what he does. Enzo Russo is no longer the boy I once knew—the boy who left, promising he would always be there. He’s changed. And I’ve changed.
But I haven’t stopped loving him.
I don’t know what I was thinking, sending him a last-minute invitation. Delusion perhaps. I just wanted to see him. To know that he still cared.
And now, here I am—trapped in a loveless marriage to a man I despise.
Perhaps you're wondering why I would do such a thing. Marry a man I clearly don’t want to.
The short answer: I had to.
Lucas Delaney is running for Congress, using his campaign as a thinly veiled attempt to mask his sexism and racism.
However, those aren't his worst attributes. Before my papa died, he tasked me with finishing his work. The world knew him as the ambassador, just a powerful man with a lot of money and political sway. But that’s not all he was.
I didn’t know, not to begin with, but Papa was part of anundercover operation—one that takes down international sex trafficking rings.
And who’s at the center of this one?
My new husband.
The reception passes in a blur. Lucas keeps a hand on me at all times and hisses in my ear to keep myself in line.
What does he think I’ll do? Stab him?I wish.
It’s close to midnight when it's time for us to leave. Everyone else is staying at the hotel, but Lucas said he wanted to take his new wife home.
I can only imagine why, and the thought makes me sick. It always does.
Sex with Lucas is awful, and not just because he wouldn’t know where a clit was if it reached up and slapped him in the face. He doesn’t care about my pleasure. There’s no foreplay, no warm-up. Just dry fucking that must feel like sandpaper on his dick.
