“You look beautiful.” Marianne wraps her arms around me from behind and gives me a little squeeze, and while we’re in the confines of the room, I allow it. I allow a moment between us that I have missed so terribly. She’s been my mother for as long as I can remember, the only one constant in my chaotic life. I didn’t realise I had anyone until Alfredo turned his sights on me, until my own mother was gone. She tried to protect me. She’s always been there for me. I’ve had to keep her at arm’s length since I started this crusade. I close my eyes and hold on for just a second. I allow myself this moment with her.
“Be careful out there today,” I whisper, and I feel her nod against me.
She places a gentle, chaste kiss on my cheek, whispering, “I know I’m not your mother, but I’m so proud of you.”
I nod. “You’ll always be my mother.”
She stutters a small sob and nods. Taking a deep breath, she smiles. “Now let’s get you married.”
I nod, slip the dress off the hanger and step into it, shimmying it up over my hips. Its delicate straps slide over my shoulders, and Marianne steps closer, fastening each individual button for me. It fits perfectly. It’s silky soft, the sweetheart strapless neckline skims my curves in all the right places. The bodice flatters my shape, and the beading is stunning. The slight flare from my hips and the split will allow me to hide the gun and move freely if needed, while still being elegant. As Marianne finishes the buttons, she steps back, and I turn to look at her.
“You’re beautiful.”
I smile. I cherish the moment. She brings out a softer side of me. I stare at her for a second and nod.
“Let’s go.” She takes my hand and kisses it before stepping out of the room. She’ll take her place downstairs with the rest of the staff. Hiding our true relationship from the rest of the Syndicate.
I give myself a minute. I pull up the floor plans to the venue and memorise them, making sure I know all the escape routes. I won’t be caught out, not today. I’ve been vigilant this whole time. My wedding day will be no different.
A knock at my door breaks me from my thoughts. I slide my phone between the holster and my leg, gripping it against my thigh. Keeping it close. A voice I recognise carries through the door.
“I’m here to walk you down, Miss Bianchi.”
I take one last look at the perfection I see in the mirror. The calm before the storm. I submit it to memory. My life may never be the same again. However much is left of it. I pick up the flowers from the stand on the table, feeling something cold and hard in the middle of the bouquet, and smile. A small flick knife hidden in the stems—he really has thought of everything. Maybe this marriage will be worth it in the end.
I click the door open, and Luca smiles at me. “You look beautiful.” He lifts his arm for me to take, and I slide mine around his. He rests his other hand against mine and pats it lightly. I’m so grateful for him in this moment, as he leads me down the corridor. I keep my wits about me, watching every closed door as we pass.
“I did a sweep on the way past. They’re empty.” He whispers to me. I nod and give him a tight-lipped smile. Stepping into the elevator, I take a breath, calm myself, and when the ding goes, I know I need to watch my back from here. Luca walks me through the venue to a set of double doors. “Ready?”
“Ready.” I nod. He steps forward, pushing both doors open. He glances around at all the faces that turn to look before stepping to the side and allowing me to enter.
My eyes flit across everyone, checking each face. The Syndicate members look like they’d rather be anywhere else, and I confidently take a step towards the aisle. A slight smile etched onto my face, I take a step, then another, until I’m gliding towards him. He’s wearing a grey pinstripe suit, white shirt and silver tie. He is so fucking handsome, and I wonder if we can beat this life, if we will have time for us to be us. To get to know each otherproperly, to grow old together, or will this be like all the other arranged marriages before, although technically this isn’t arranged in the traditional sense?
It’s still not a typical boy meets girl, falls in love, gets married, has kids, lives happily ever after scenario. But I allow myself hope. Hope that this won’t be the biggest or last mistake of my life. Hope that we will be compatible and hope that one day I’ll rule, and he will be happy by my side.
I step up the few steps to the altar, and Vittorio reaches out for my hand to help me, and the chivalry, although most certainly isn’t needed, is appreciated. A small gesture that says I’m here. We are together.
He leans in and whispers, “You’re breathtaking.” I spare him a smile. He steps back, keeping my free hand in his. He rubs his thumb back and forth across my skin, looking at me, rather than the officiant, which also gives me access to the room from my peripheral.
The officiant clears his throat, and we begin. The normal generic vows flow from his lips like he’s reading a menu, not committing me to another person for the rest of our lives, but I say nothing other than “I do.” Vittorio nods an “I do” in return, and we lean in for the kiss.
It’s a peck, nothing more, before he grips my hand tighter and turns us to walk down the aisle. I scan the people. The looks on the Syndicates’ faces show me nothing but contempt, and I give Massimo and Bellino a little smirk. I know I shouldn’t poke the bear, but they’re already trying to kill me. How is that going to make the outcome any worse?
Vittorio leads me through the double doors and down the corridor. He pushes me against the wall. His hand slides up to my neck as he holds me against the wall.
“You look fucking beautiful.” He leans in and steals a kiss, pinning me against the wall and taking my breath away. I grip my hand in his suit jacket, pulling him in tighter, while my hand with the bouquet wraps around his neck. His hand slides up my leg until he reaches the gun, and he groans into my mouth. “I wanna fuck you right here, right fucking now.” He grips my thigh, yanking me forward until I crash against him, and he groans, nipping at my lip. “Ari,” he grunts.
There’s a cough that startles us, and we both spin to find Marianne grinning at us.
“Shit, Marianne, I didn’t even hear you coming.”
“Any longer and everyone would have heard you coming, child.” She smirks. “They’re waiting.” She nods towards the doors, and I blow out a breath. Vittorio slowly lets my leg drop, and we smooth out our clothes.
Before he takes my hand and we push the doors open, stepping into the reception. We need to be more careful. A gunshot to the head would have taken me out, and I wouldn’t have seen it coming. We make our way to the top table, laid out for just me and Vittorio. It feels exposed, but we take our seats.
The reception is intimate, mostly business acquaintances, cousins, no one’s sure who belongs to what family, and it has the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention. If they wanted to take me out here, I’m a sitting duck. I stay vigilant. Neither of us drinks, sipping at water while we eat. Once the meals are over, we cut the cake, wait until the music starts, and try to slip outthe back. Massimo is waiting for us, staring at us. Glaring, disgust, and contempt shroud his gaze.
“You have twenty-four hours. That’s all the grace I’ll give you. It doesn’t look promising for business if I kill my son and daughter-in-law on their wedding day.” He smirks. “Sleep well.”
