“I won’t.” My grip tightens, ensuring she can’t budge. There will be no aisle for her to walk. “I…I…won’t. Anything with even the slightest risk of going wrong isn’t worth your life.”
Then, uncaring that we’re being watched, I kiss her, telling her with my mouth what my stupid brain refuses to say. Showing her why she can’t fuck this up. Why, if this goes wrong, I’ll never forgive myself for not catching him sooner.
I’ll lock myself within the Bratva’s side of prison and make Vanessa throw away the key, letting me be driven to misery, insanity, and, eventually, death. This time, I won’t fight back.
“That’s sweet.” Ana’s voice cuts between the fog, compelling my hands to lower. “I have an idea to ensure she has the edge.”
With a huff, I turn away and drag a hand through my hair, aggravation replacing what her kiss healed. “It better be good. You’ve given enough shitty ideas for the night.”
“Roofie him. He did it to you, so turnaround’s fair game. We slip him drugs that’ll render him useless. Killing him will be a breeze.”
That…could work.It’s certainly better attacking straight on.
I face them, lowering my arms. “We can’t do it at the reception. He’ll be affected too quickly, and someone will notice.”
“Which means pouring him a drink inside the room,” Serafina fills in, her expression growing as bright as it used to be before her engagement. “He won’t be so eager that he’d deny me of a glass of something, right?” Her rhetorical question highlights one more concern, but of all options so far, this is the one most likely to succeed.
“It might work.” My heart slows a bit with the new possibilities. “Maybe. If we’re careful. It’s one more thing to hide in your dress.”
“Where do we get the drugs?” Serafina asks, striking only a chuckle from Ana.
“Oh, sweet child, let me take care of that. Of everything the Bratva has access to or controls, roofies are one of the simpler drugs.”
“Then we have a plan.” Serafina grins, looking between us.
“Still.” I retrieve the knife from my sister and hand it back to Serafina. “We’ll keep practicing.”
We go through another hour of drills while I return to not considering every reason she must master this.
50
SERAFINA
It’s been three weeks since my engagement, and not a single day has been pleasant. It hasn’t been as simple as putting the entire thing aside until the wedding when everyone else is weighed down by it, being a constant reminder.
Vanessa’s either very present or very absent, more often on the phone with Zeno, discussing Alessio’s demands. He’s insisting on a large wedding because he wants the entire world to know about it, which means inviting all Five Families of the Cosa Nostra, as per tradition—which meanshundredsof strangers will be present to watch me sign my life away.
When she’s not working, she and Anastasia slipped away to Toronto to retrieve her cousin and his girlfriend, Katya. Finally, I’ve gotten to meet Dimitri—my half-cousin, technically—and while nice, he’s mostly stuck to himself and is often away from the mansion. Vanessa explained Katya will be moving to Moscow, and he’s preparing their new house.
Anastasia has a few roles to busy herself with, but she pulled back from most of them to make herself available for the infrequent instances Lev is away for work.
Even Zeno’s been stopping by Moscow more. He’s completed the trip once per week for the past three. With him around, life pauses. Lev won’t even look at me, treating me like a stranger. Plus, my brother constantly dredges Alessio up, so I kind of hate his presence.
And then there’s Lev, who’s halfway to manic these days. When we’re not together, his gaze remains on me, and when we’re alone, he won’t stop touching me.
Still…it’s not the same. When Lev is watching me, there aren’t positive emotions in his expression, but fear, even when trying to mask it. It’s longing and terror mingling into confusion.
One random day two weeks ago, he snapped, dragged me to the gym the Bratva soldiers work out in, kicked everyone out, and forced a knife into my hand. He’s been desperate to get me to learn skills I clearly don’t have.
I’m petrified for the wedding night, though I won’t admit that to anyone—afraid I won’t be able to do it, that something will go wrong and he’ll turn on me. Maybe I’ll flinch at the last second over the idea of taking a life.
After a training session, I retreat to my bedroom to study, though not really digesting any of the facts. It isn’t long into my pointless study session that Vanessa and Anastasia knock on my open door before entering with a large, white box.
Anastasia’s gaze is apologetic as Vanessa rests it in front of me. “From Alessio.”
The lid is engraved with a famous Italian designer’s name, hinting at what’s inside. Bile fills my throat.
“Asshole’s so controlling, he’s picking her dress?” Anastasia grumbles.
