Page 154 of The Strength Of A Woman

“I told you.”

We made a bet.

He claimed no drop of blood would fall on my wedding gown.I claimed it would be impossible.

Whoever won would have a wish granted.

“So, what’s your wish?” I ask, my voice mellow in the crushing silence of the building.

“Marry me tomorrow. I have a priest ready in Long Island. It will be a small ceremony. Only you, your friend, Nona, and my men. That’s it. I don’t want another bloody wedding.”

My eyebrows push up in surprise.

“Tomorrow?” I ask incredulously. “You’re still bleeding.”

“I won’t be bleeding tomorrow,” he says with a smile, sliding his jacket on.

The bleeding must’ve stopped.

“What about all these dead bodies?” I say, pointing to the floor with my gun.

“Who says we can’t have a wedding and a few funerals. We have the wedding first. I want you to be Mrs. Leilani O’Hara.”

“Hmm…” I say with a knowing expression on my face. “So Sylvia Gallo was right. You were after my empire, after all,” I murmur, smiling.

“She was absolutely right,” he jokes, winking at me. “We’ll have the biggest power merger on the East Coast.”

“I will inherit their empire, right?” I say after thinking about it for a moment, uncertain of the legalities of it. “What if I’m not in their will?”

“Trust me. You are. You were supposed to be Varela’s wife. It was part oftheirdeal. He made sure of that. If not, you will be in their will, and no one will dare to contest it. We’ll control the entire territory.”

“It was about damn time,” I say. “I promised Nona something, and I want to keep my word.”

“What did you promise her?”

“That she’ll have her freedom and money to buy a house if I ever get the reins of my empire.”

“Just in time. Cosimo is about to propose to her.”

“No way,” I say as he offers me his arm, and I loop mine through his and carefully step over the dead bodies as we leave the room linked, talking, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“One more thing,” he says, slowing down. “I want you to wear this wedding gown tomorrow. You know it’s my favorite. And no veil over your shoulders. Sicily tan looks great on you,” he comments, removing my tiara. “I don’t like this thing either.”

We stop so he can put it on a windowsill.

“Only flowers in your hair.”

My eyes are fixed on his, a smile broadening across my lips.

“You forgot the ring,” I say. “How will you get a ring so quickly?”

“Did I forget it?’

A knowing smile tilts his lips as he reaches inside his jacket.

He removes a small jewelry box.

“No way,” I exclaim. “I want to see it.”