Going against every instinct to protect my girl and using someone else’s touch as a support, I grip Ana’s hand and settle back down. People on the opposite side of the aisle cast confused side glances before giving the newlyweds their attention.
Their kiss is three seconds, and it’s three seconds too long before Vitale lifts his head, granting her a smile that may seem loving at first but is actually menacing. His gaze then slides over her head and onto me.
The entire room bursts into applause. Their excitement explodes my head, but for once, it’s not the volume, but ratherwhythey’re doing it. Even Zeno claps, knowing half the room’sprobably looking to him as her Capo and family. Nero follows suit, though with less enthusiasm. Vanessa has her hands lifted to complete the motions but manages no more than one. Dimitri and Katya clap slowly with dismayed glances my way. Anastasia and I are the only ones not celebrating.
Vitale yanks Serafina against him, earning her scowl. He buries his face into her hair, which makes my teeth clench. It’s an embrace others might view as sweet, but his moving jaw tells me he’s speaking.
Whatever he says has her nodding, her demeanour slipping even lower—if that was possible. She allows him to direct her to the aisle, and her eyes flit to us. To her brother first, with a subtle nod, then to me, brows lowered over eyes filled to the brim with pain and anxiety. Those eyes should only ever be alight with happiness, and I vow, once Vitale is snuffed out, that’s what she’ll only ever feel.
Again, she taps the stems of her bouquet.One, two, one.
He waves to everyone but stops beside Zeno to offer a handshake, which he returns, the gesture entirely for their audience. At his side, Serafina glances at me before looking away just as quickly.
I itch to pull her into my arms and steal her away, but Anastasia, perhaps through that supposed twin bond she believes in, rubs my hand between hers.
He tugs her along, stopping to shake a few other men’s hands. “The other Capos,” Zeno explains.
We join the fray, following the couple out of the church, and at no point does my focus leave Serafina. The crowd is a blob of suffocation and spilling onto the front steps takes fucking forever, but finally we’re out of the stuffy church.
The wedding photographer Vitale insisted on begins hauling the new couple away for pictures I’ll later be burning—right afterI hack the photographer’s website and leave behind a nasty virus for her to deal with.
Zeno is stolen away too for family pictures, and the rest of us linger nearby. Serafina’s pain is being dragged out as she’s posed and forced to smile, but thankfully, Vitale cuts the photographer off after a few to pull her into a limo parked by the curb. She glances over her shoulder, finding me in the crowd before Vitale all but pushes her inside, and the crowd breaks up to follow them to the reception.
Zeno ushers us to his vehicle parked down the road, and I pull out my phone to bring up the tracking software. With so many people in attendance, Vitale won’t skip his own reception, but when it comes to her safety, no chance will be taken.
Dimitri and Katya climb in the furthest row, the only benefit of a seven-seat SUV. My sister takes the middle row with me, brushing aside her skirt for Nero to sit on her other side.
There are two trackers listed in the software, and I tap the second, which was a last-minute plan yesterday. Since Serafina couldn’t have her phone at all times today, the tracker installed on it would be useless. So, after she went to bed, I had Anastasia sew a physical one into her dress. As long as it’s on her body, I’ll be able to find her.
My finger taps my knee.
54
SERAFINA
It’s like a fever dream. A fever nightmare…Is that a thing?
From the moment Zeno came to walk me down the aisle to when Alessio pushed me into a limo after the ceremony and everything in between. The walk, the vows, the kiss.
I’ve kissed Alessio hundreds of times, but none of them felt like that. Possessive. Claiming. Like he was reminding me he’s won. It was also more lifeless than previous instances, since he’s not pretending to be a loving boyfriend.
This time, I’m the one pretending.
I press into the furthest corner of the limo, staring out the window. Thankfully, he ignores me, instead typing on his phone. The drive is fairly painless, though the seat could be compared to sitting on needles, and my fingers won’t stop tugging on my veil, occasionally even tapping out a pattern I’ve found relaxing on more than one occasion.
While I spent most of the ceremony staring at nothing, I did scan for Amara twice, but couldn’t find her. Alessio was determined to make this thing as big as possible, but leaving out his cousin is interesting. I long to ask if she’s okay or if she’s chosen to stay away by her choice—which I’d prefer, I’mnot sure. Maybe he’s hiding her, using her for his next nefarious plan.
Alessio doesn’t speak until the driver parks beside the hotel, which I never thought I’d be excited to see. The church was the horrible beginning, and this hotel will be the ending. Here, many people will be socializing, which should keep Alessio busy, and if he wants this wedding to appear real, like we’re a happy couple, then he’ll have to let me dance with Zeno and be around Vanessa and Anastasia.
“You’ve done well so far. Keep it up for a few more hours. All I want is for you to play a happy bride. You will eat what is put in front of you. You will dance when I say. You will live your last night as a free woman and fucking enjoy it. At ten, we will leave the reception.”
Ten. It’s five now. Five hours to go.
Three hundred minutes, if my math is correct. Practice from hanging around Lev all these months.
Lev…My heart clenches. If he was trying to mask his emotions inside the church, he failed. I’d never seen a man look more murderous.
“Do you understand?”
