I’ve heard the gruesome stories of how Christiano is ruthlessly slaughtering the Irish whenever Augusto fills Dad in on what’s happening at work.
He stops right beside the pew I’m seated in, and with my heart beating even faster, I can’t stop myself from glancing at him. The first thing I see is the bandage around his hand.
I can guess how he got injured. He probably beat someone.
I take in the black tuxedo he’s wearing, which isn’t something I get to see him in often. He prefers black slacks and a blackdress shirt. The sleeves are always rolled up to his elbows, and the style has become synonymous with him.
It really doesn’t matter what he wears, he always looks heartbreakingly hot.
The attraction I’ve been doing my best to suppress floods my abdomen like a tidal wave, and the love I feel for him makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.
Dad gets up and leans over me to shake Christiano’s hand. “Good to see you again.”
“You too.”
When Dad sits down, I feel Christiano’s eyes burning on me, and knowing I can’t be rude, I glance up just as he leans down.
Oh God.
My lips part, and my breath stalls when my eyes lock with his. There’s so much anger and ferociousness in his dominant gaze it makes fear slither through me.
Gone is the man I fell in love with. In his place is a ruthless capo.
“Princess.” His hand settles behind my head. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and like always, he lingers, and I hear him inhaling my scent.
My fingers twist together, and not even a second later, Christiano’s hand settles over both of mine. He squeezes, and it lessens some of the anxiety churning in my stomach while a warm sensation eases the pressure in my chest. My eyes fall shut, and I soak in the feel of his lips against my skin.
“It’s time,” Aunt Gabriella says as she hurries up the aisle. “Everyone, take your seats.”
Not caring that he’s holding up the ceremony, he takes another few seconds before he pulls away.
As I watch him sit down on the other side of the aisle, I can’t stop myself from drinking in the sight of him. The boyishcharm is long gone. Now, all six-five feet of Christiano is muscle, tattoos, and scars. It matches his unforgiving personality.
I lower my head and stare at my hands, the warmth of his touch still lingering on my skin.
Where Christiano has become one of the most feared men in the world, I’ve…well, I haven’t achieved anything.
I haven’t conquered any of my demons, and I’m still an unstable mess who’s consumed by fear and anxiety.
Augusto is making a success of running the family business. Riccardo is getting married, and after his honeymoon, he’ll become Augusto’s underboss. Bianca might not work, but at least she studied fashion design and doesn’t hide from the world.
Even though Augusto, Bianca, and I are triplets, I’ve managed to hide my mental health from them. Only Mom and Dad know I see a psychiatrist once a week and take nine pills a day just to function.
Music begins to play, drawing me out of my thoughts. Mom appears next to me. “Scoot up.”
We all shift to the left, making space for her to sit beside me.
I lift my head to look at Riccardo. From the emotion tightening his features, I know the exact moment he sees Gianna.
Christiano will never have that look on his face.
Or maybe he’ll find another woman to marry. Someone who’s strong enough to walk beside him.
Sadness washes through me, pushing a lump to my throat and making tears gather in my eyes. When one escapes, I quickly wipe it away.
I make the mistake of glancing at the aisle to look at Gianna, but Christiano is staring at me and instantly takes my gaze prisoner.
While his sister and father meet Riccardo up front, the anxiety spikes in my chest, warring with the deep sadness that’s become a constant companion.
