I just hope tomorrow isn’t too late.
“I don’t trust Giovanni,” Stefano says.
“None of us do,” Luciano agrees. “He’s going to betray us as soon as this is over. We might have an alliance of convenience for now, but it won’t last once he has his daughter.”
“We’ll have to watch each other’s backs,” I agree. “We’re going to be outnumbered. Again, I can’t ask any of you to come with me. In fact, it might be better if you don’t, especially now that Giovanni has agreed to bring along most of his men.”
“Ha!” Enrico slaps his knee as if I’d said the funniest thing in the world. “You think we’re going to leave you alone in that viper’s nest of Amatos and Rizzos? Think again,stupido!”
“He’s right, you’re going to need us,” Roberto adds. “We’re strongest when we’re together. If you go alone, you’re guaranteed to die. But with us by your side, at least you have a chance. We all do. And if we die, so be it. But at least we die protecting each other, like we were born to do. Dying for family. For those we love.”
For those we love…
Yes, I might die saving her. My brothers might, too. I don’t really want them to come, but I also know there’s no stopping them. They won’t let me do this alone. Just as I wouldn’t let them go to war without me at their side.
They say love is worth fighting for?
Well, I’ve got one hell of a fight ahead, that’s for sure.
The biggest of my life.
31
Angela
My wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Not the worst.
I’m standing before a mirror and Michelina is helping me into my wedding gown.
“I hate it,” I tell her. “It doesn’t suit me at all. It’s too tight around the waist. Too puffy at the bottom. The train is too long. And I don’t like all the frills around the collar and sleeves.”
Michelina sighs. “I told you to pick something you liked. It’s too late to change it now.”
“Well, I suppose it’s for the best that I look disgusting for my husband-to-be,” I tell her.
Her mouth drops. “Angela. You look anything but disgusting! You’re the very embodiment of beauty!”
I laugh sadly. “Yeah, well, I hate to disappoint you, but all that work you did putting on my makeup is going to go to waste when I’m crying all the way up the aisle.”
“No one could ever fault a bride for shedding tears of joy,” Michelina mumbles.
“More like tears of grief,” I counter. It should be Massimo I’m marrying. But he’s dead. I still haven’t really come to terms with it. I’m half expecting him to come bounding in before the wedding to save me. But this is real life, not some fairy tale. No one will save me.
Maybe I deserve it for letting him die.
He wouldn’t want me blaming myself. And really, it’s not my fault. But it still hurts.
I gaze at my hair. It’s been pinned into some towering monstrosity, the way I’d wear it to take a bath not get married. I always imagined my hair would be flowing free as I walked the aisle to my groom. Free, freshly curled, and tumbling over my shoulders to the small of my back. But maybe this style is more suiting, considering it’s symbolic of my spirit at the moment. Pinned. Trapped.
I can’t believe I’m actually going to have to marry my worst nightmare. I hated The Cleaver before, but now that I suspect he killed my mother, I despise, absolutely abhor him. With all my heart and soul. Any marriage to him is only going to end in the death of one of us. Either him, or me. And I have the odds at 99.9999% percent that it’s going to me.
It’s all so rushed. All so surreal. The Rizzos want to get this over with as quickly as possible, thinking it will give them leverage over my father. But they don’t know him. This will only piss him off, especially if he officially called off the wedding. Yes, nothing good can come from marrying this evil man. Still, it’s at least a small consolation that my father will avenge my death after The Cleaver is finished with me.
I wonder if my odds of killing him first are really 0.0001%. There has to be a way to increase those odds.
“Do you know how to make any poisons?” I ask Michelina innocently.
“What? God no,” she says. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
