It became neither.
Her body stiffened against mine, then—for just a heartbeat—yielded. Her lips were soft, warm, and tasted faintly of cinnamon. Something primal roared to life inside me, demanding more.
I deepened the kiss, one hand sliding to her waist, pulling her closer until I could feel every inch of her against me. I traced the seam of her lips with my tongue, and to my surprise—and satisfaction—she gasped, her mouth opening just enough for me to claim her more thoroughly.
For one blazing second, she kissed me back. Her hands clutched at my jacket, whether to push me away or pull me closer, I couldn't tell.
Then reality crashed back down.
She wrenched away, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, breathing hard. Her pupils were blown, lips kiss-swollen, and her chest heaved with more than anger. Fury and confusion warred on her face, but beneath it all, I saw it—that flicker of awareness. That same spark I’d seen when I first caught her running in the dark.
She felt it too.
No matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise.
I smiled slowly, possessively. Let her see exactly what I was thinking. Let her feel the heat between us that had nothing to do with our arrangement and everything to do with the chemistry that had simmered since the moment I caught her.
"Well done, Mrs. Romano," I murmured, voice rough with desire. "Almost convincing."
If looks could kill, I'd have been bleeding out on the chapel floor.
"Go to hell," she whispered, her voice shaking.
"Only if you're coming with me,principessa."
Father Salvatore's brows had risen nearly to his hairline. He cleared his throat, his gaze flicking nervously between us. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the edge of his prayer book—an unspoken confession of the discomfort he dared not voice. Years of working for my family had taught him how to keep silent, but even he couldn’t hide the tension in the room.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," he said, crossing himself almost reflexively.
The witnesses shifted uncomfortably, sensing the charged atmosphere. Marco's face remained impassive, but his eyes held a warning.Don't let her distract you. Don't let this become real.
Too late.
Vito's expression had darkened to something dangerous. His loyalty to the Moretti family ran deep. I made a mental note to watch him closely in the coming weeks.
"La famiglia è tutto," Vito murmured as we passed—family is everything.A reminder of where her true loyalties should lie.
"La sua famiglia è la mia ora," I replied smoothly.Her family is mine now.
I placed my hand on the small of Sienna's back, feeling her stiffen at my touch. The skin-to-skin contact sent electricity shooting up my arm. I wondered if she felt it too—this wild, unwanted current between us.
"Time to go, wife," I said, savoring the word on my tongue.
Sienna's jaw clenched so hard I thought she might crack a tooth. But she allowed me to guide her down the aisle, her spine rigid, her movements stiff.
As we walked, I fought to bring myself under control. This wasn't part of the plan. Wanting her wasn't part of the plan. She was a means to an end—a political alliance, a way to strengthen my position against enemies closing in.
I had promised myself no one would ever have power over me again. Not after prison. Not after betrayal. But this wasn't about power over me. This was about powerwithme. Sienna didn't diminish my strength—she amplified it.
And yet, one kiss from Sienna Moretti had nearly broken my control.
Dangerous. She was dangerous.
We reached the chapel doors, preparing to step out into the night where my car waited to take us to the reception at my club. A small gathering—just enough to sell the story.
The rain had intensified, beating against the stone steps like angry fists. My driver stood ready with an umbrella, his eyes scanning for threats even here, on Romano territory.
Just before we crossed the threshold, I leaned down, my breath warming the curve of her neck as her body instinctively leaned away.
