“They won’t get away with this,” Carmine agrees.
“No, they won’t,” Rosalie huffs. “This will not happen at my wedding, or so help me…” She folds her arms. “I’m ready to get my hands around someone’s neck.” She grits her teeth. Her face is flushed pink. Despite her small stature and feminine appearance, especially at the moment in her dress, I don’t find myself doubting her abilities at all.
I look around at everyone else in the room, talking to each other, looking over at the newlywed couple with anxiety, some people leaving and others trying to fight their way over to talk to them, but Eivor is keeping people away.
“I think the two of you should lay low until the wedding,” I suggest. “Is there somewhere else I can take you until then?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Carmine says. He looks to Soren who purses his lips.
“There’s a safe apartment downtown. We acquired it recently, after the previous one was compromise. Whoever is behind this won’t suspect it,” Soren says.
I nod. “Good.” I look to Alessio who’s hands are balled into fists. “Let’s get you out of here.”
7
Chapter Seven
Alessio
The wolves have come out to play tonight. Lunging and attacking when we least expect it, but we should have expected it. A public outing with a role to play… I didn’t even think twice before standing next to that window with Rosalie. I didn’t even notice the car.
Maybe if I had been a bit more sober, I would have…but not tonight. Tonight, my head is fuzzy and the effects of the pills I took earlier combined with the alcohol only make it harder to think straight.
Damian does the thinking for us, and this I’m grateful for.
He suggests that we switch our clothing with others at the event so that they can leave in back to the Fiorelli estate as though that’s what we had done. I get dressed in a haze. The clothing is slightly too small, but it doesn’t matter.
We’re ushered out and into Damian’s car. I sit in the back seat while Rosalie sits in the front. She looks beyond pissed offstill. Her makeup is smudged, and she’s bouncing her knee the entire ride.
I should be more concerned about her, but all I can think about is the feeling of Damian’s larger body as he pulled me to the floor. As he held me against his chest while the shots were fired. Each and every one. Steadfast, with my face buried against his neck. It didn’t matter that Rosalie was there too. He had looked at me first, questioned my safety first. Not hers.
Something about this makes me smile. Makes my heart beam in my chest. As though I’m so desperate for the man’s attention that I would wish harm upon myself just so he could save me again.
Pull me tight to his body and shield me like a precious thing.
Perhaps the drugs are getting to me more than I realize.
I close my eyes, and the next thing I know the car is parking behind an old brick building in one of the oldest and sketchiest parts of downtown. It’s true, no one would expect us to come here after what had just happened, but I cannot stand sleeping on the shotty beds that are always in these low-brow safe houses. It’s enough that I’m wearing a suit a size too small and my hair is a mess.
“There’s only one bed?” Rosalie asks when we get into the third-floor apartment. “Great.”
“I’m sure sleeping with your husband won’t be an issue,” Damian says casually.
I can’t help but smirk to myself as I walk across the living room of the small apartment. The floor creaks under my step as I come up behind Rosalie and Damian.
“Of course,” Rosalie replies, seeming to pull herself together.
Does she really think that Damian doesn’t know our marriage is just for our families?
Regardless, I’m not too thrilled with sharing a bed with her either, but the only other option is the couch and I imagine Damian will be occupying it.
Damian is looking at his phone for a long moment before he looks to me, then Rosalie. “Someone will be bringing by some groceries to get us through the next couple days, along with clothing.”
“Ah, good. I could never wear this dress to sleep,” Rosalie says with a sigh as she sits on the end of the bed.
“Are we sure that’s safe? They won’t be followed?” I ask.
“They might be; it’s always a risk, but you’ve gotta eat,” Damian replies.
