“I’m not lying,” I say clearly. “And I can prove it. For the past few weeks, while you thought I was being the perfect meek bride, I was actually investigating you, Andreas.” My voice carries through the church. “After you bought me this hideousengagement ring, I saw you get into a car with a strange man. A man with a Sokoli tattoo on his hand.”
Gasps echo through the church. The name Sokoli sends a ripple of shock and rage through the congregation. Everyone here hates the vicious rival family who attacked the Malus dons and our tentative allies.
“You showed him something on your phone,” I continue. “Documents? Maps? Were you showing him our warehouse locations, Andreas?”
Andreas’s face has turned from red to white. “That’s not… You’re making this up.”
“Am I making up all the questions you asked Gerardo, my bodyguard, while I was buying my wedding lingerie? Our shipments. Our security. Our business operations. All things that are of interest to the Sokolis if they want to overthrow us. At dinner in my own home, Andreas asked so many suspicious questions that both Damiano and Dad had to tell him to stop.”
I look Andreas dead in the eye. “You’ve been selling Barone secrets to the Sokolis. You saw them as the rising power, and you wanted to be on the winning side. And you thought marrying me would give you access to even more information.”
The church erupts in chaos. Cristiano Montoni rises from his seat, his face dark with fury that I pray is directed at his cousin and not at me. The Sokolis are enemies to all the families, including his.
“She’s lying!” Andreas shouts desperately. “She made all of this up because she wants to fuck her brother! She’s twisted!”
“Gerardo,” I call out. “Will you confirm that Andreas questioned you about security rotations and warehouse schedules at the lingerie boutique?”
A row behind my father, Gerardo stands up, his jaw tight. “I will. He asked about guard schedules, shipment routes, and Sokoli-related security changes. I refused to answer.”
“Dad, Don Cristiano, Don Vincenzo, I prescheduled an email that you should have received by now that contains the photos of Andreas meeting with a Sokoli. I’m telling the truth. I’m not a reluctant bride making up lies. Andreas has been betraying all of you to the Sokolis.”
Damiano reaches inside his jacket and pulls out his gun once more, and he aims it at Andreas. “You hurt my Lucy, and you’re a traitorous piece of shit. Now you’re going to pay.”
The murmurs from the crowd increase to a fever pitch.
Andreas looks around for help, but no one’s coming to save him. Cristiano stands rigid, staring at his cousin with cold contempt. Next to Mom, Dad looks mottled and clammy.
“She’s making it up! I didn’t do anything to that bitch.”
“You’re calling Lucy a liar?” Damiano roars. He dearly wants to shoot Andreas in the head, but he wants a confession even more, and he wants everyone to hear it. He points the gun at Andreas’s upper arm and pulls the trigger.
Andreas cries out in pain. A ragged hole appears in his suit sleeve, and a moment later it’s soaked in blood.
Andreas falls to his knees, staring at the wound. There are shocked cries and gasps all around the church. The priest backs away and makes the sign of the cross.
“Lucy, stop him,” Mom shrieks.
Stop Damiano, when I’ve fantasized about this moment night after sleepless night? I carefully crafted my vows to expose Andreas and my family’s complicity in my rape. I’m tearing us down in the most public way possible. I stand proudly on the altar beside Damiano, who’s wild-eyed and breathing hard, and deciding where to put the next bullet.
“Mom and Dad, you ripped my heart out when you forced me to marry my would-be rapist. You saw what Andreas Montoni tried to do to me with your own eyes. And you were going tohand me over to a traitor. A man selling Barone secrets to the Sokolis. Now everyone knows the kind of people you are.”
This is my revenge.
Mom shoots to her feet and screams in outrage, her beautiful face twisting into something ugly.
She hates me so much.
The feeling is mutual.
Dad’s capos have pulled out their guns, but they’re confused about who they should aim at. Dad hasn’t ordered them to do anything. He’s red in the face and totally motionless.
“I’m asking you again,” Damiano seethes. “Did you put your hands on my sister? Answer me, or you’ll get another bullet.”
Andreas is wailing and gripping his elbow. “My arm. You shot me in the fucking arm.”
Damiano fires again, the report echoing sharply around the cavernous church. This time, he shoots Andreas in the thigh, and he shrieks in pain and collapses onto his heels.
People in the back of the church stand up and crane their necks for a better view.
