“Sì.”
Alessio slides out of the vehicle and reaches in to help me out. I hate needing his assistance, but this monstrosity of a dress demands it. He helps me out of the car and, with a dangerous glint of unbridled warning, hauls me towards the doors for what’s about to the worst night of my life.
The fever nightmare continues. Suddenly, we’re immersed in cheers, though without any recollection of the bitchywedding planner directing us. Through it all, I seek the table where Alessio and I will be seated and then spot the one with the bride’s family.
Zeno claps, masking his expression. Vanessa’s beside him, also with a practiced smile. Anastasia, Nero, Dimitri, and Katya are at their sides, doing nothing to hide their boredom. And then there’s Lev, seated in the last chair, his murderous expression solely on Alessio until catching my eye. Then, they soften.
The meal passes, and I don’t recall what was placed in front of me or even how much I ate of it. Conversations around me are a buzz, with the occasional person becoming louder when they approach our table. Alessio takes the lead, leaving me to exist in my mounting dread. Dread that as the hours tick away, so does his life—and possibly mine.
Eventually, Alessio stands, and I’m nearly thrilled at the concept of him fucking off so I can breathe again—until his hand comes into view. A slow musical number starts from the DJ, and trepidation hits heavier and harder at the expectation of our first dance.
When I don’t take his offer, that bitchy wedding planner’s hiss echoes. I’m starting to think Alessio should have wedher, considering they have the same temperament.
My hand is numb as he helps me to my feet and directs us to the dance floor. He pulls me closer, keeping one of my hands in his while his other rests on my hip. He leads, his gaze locked above my head while his lapel and I compete in a staring competition.
“You’re doing well. After this, you will dance with your brother, and then it’s tradition each of the other three Capos get their turn. After that, you will retreat to our table. I have business to discuss with others, and we will go to our room later. Understood?”
“Mhm.”
“Smile. Look content.”
I tip my head, staring at his chin rather than his eyes, and plaster a forced smile on as the song ends and the cuffs of his grip release me to the next man. Someone safe, representing home.
Zeno swings me far away from Alessio, who dances with someone from his family as more people join the dance floor. Not Amara, though; her, I still don’t see.
Vanessa and Nero, locked in their own dance, get close enough that I pick up Vanessa’s whispered encouragement. “You’re doing great. A few more hours.”
Zeno spins me around, his eyes unsettled on my face, veil, and then the dress. “You okay?”
“As well as I can be. Wondering how much of a mistake this is about to be.”
“As much as a mistake I was for allowing this. So much can go wrong. The Cosa Nostra will be dangerous after this.”
“I’ll hide if I must.”
“I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”
“I fucked up, didn’t I? This won’t end. Why did I think it would? His organization will rightly blame me. They’ll try to keep me, since the marriage went through. I’m a Vitale technically.”
Serafina Vitale.Gag.
“It’ll be done before the marriage gets consummated. It’ll be over by tomorrow. If that doesn’t work, I’m selling this to the Commission as a blood debt, since Alessandro is the reason my father is dead. They can punish me if they need someone to blame. Trust me, Sera, you’ll be fine.”
I hope so.
The song quickly blends into another one, and a tap on Zeno’s shoulder has him turning before Nero sweeps me upwith a muttered, “Go dance with your girl. She’s actually pretty decent at it.”
Nero claims Zeno’s place, but his dancing is slower and more awkward. “Well, mini-Mancini, always thought one day, I’d be dancing at your wedding, but never like this.”
“Me neither.”
“Although it’s tradition for you to dance with the other Capos, I figured I could keep you busy before those old assholes annoy you.”
“I’m grateful. I have no interest in dancing with any of them.”
“Between me, Z, Lev, and Dimitri, we could occupy all your time. At least, that was Lev’s idea, but Zeno shut it down ’cause all the traditionalists will get pissy. Besides, they’re annoying but harmless, and it’s smart to make tonight look as normal as possible.” He tilts his head towards the table Lev and Anastasia watch us from. “What’s going on between you and him?”
What gave it away?
