His brow arches slightly, but then he turns his attention to the priest.
The priest's voice fades in and out as he speaks of holy union and sacred vows. I don’t pay attention. They’re just for show. There is no love or honor in this marriage.
Alessandro's thumb traces small circles on the back of my hand, sending unwanted sparks of electricity up my arm.
Is this another game? Another way to confuse me? Perhaps a warning?
I steal a glance at him, finding his expression softer, the harsh lines around his mouth relaxed, his eyes warmer. The transformation is subtle but there.
I don't trust it for a second.
All of New York's underworld is watching us. The Rossis, the Romanos, even representatives from the fragmented Bratva. Alessandro needs this to look convincing. He's the Don, after all. Appearances matter more than truth.
When we exchange rings, his fingers linger against mine longer than necessary. The platinum band doesn’t feel like a symbol of love. It’s a shackle, binding me to a man who only knows how to play games. Is he like this with his siblings? After all, Luca didn’t return home to stay after their father died. And his sister and her husband now work for Luca in Chicago.
"With this ring, I thee wed," Alessandro recites.
I repeat my lines but without any emotion behind them. There’s only so much acting I can do.
My brother watches from the front pew, his smile tight. My father looks triumphant. Mother just looks resigned.
"You may now kiss the bride."
I flinch, having forgotten this part of the ceremony. Maybe he won’t kiss me. Or it will be a peck on the cheek.
Alessandro's hand comes up to cup my cheek, his touch gentle, sending more confusion through me. I brace myself, determined to remain unmoved.
He leans in slowly. Our lips meet, his mouth soft and gentle against mine. Despite my resolve, my body betrays me. His kiss is just enough to satisfy custom without crossing into impropriety. But the effect is anything but proper. Heat blooms in my chest, spreading outward until my fingers tingle with it. My lips part slightly in surprise, and I hear his sharp intake of breath.
It lasts only seconds, but when he pulls away, my head spins like we've been kissing for hours.
His gray eyes flicker with heat.
"Breathe, Isabella.”
I exhale shakily, hating how easily he affects me. Hating how he knows it.
"May I present Don and Dona Alessandro Dante. Congratulations!" The priest's announcement breaks the spell. Applause erupts around us.
Alessandro's hand settles at the small of my back as we turn to face our audience. His touch sends new shimmers of warmth through me. What is going on?
I paste on my most convincing smile as we proceed down the aisle, past rows of killers and criminals, political leaders and business titans, all clapping and congratulating us.
Alessandro leans close as we near the doors. "You did well, Wife."
I keep my smile fixed, refusing to look at him. "I'm simply fulfilling my end of our arrangement."
His hand tightens almost imperceptibly at my waist. "Then we understand each other perfectly."
We ride in silence to the reception venue. It’s decorated with crystal and gold, which feels tasteless and tacky, not at all what I’d wanted. But then it’s never been about me. My life has never been about what I want.
Alessandro's hand rests against the small of my back as we greet each guest lined up to pay their respects to the newly formed Dante-Vitale alliance.
I smile until my cheeks ache, a perfect performance from the perfect Mafia bride. Inside, I'm already hollowing out, becoming the empty shell my mother has been for decades.
"You're doing wonderfully," Alessandro murmurs as we move between tables, his breath warm against my ear.
I don't acknowledge the compliment. What's the point? These brief moments of warmth are meaningless when I know the cold will return. I've seen how quickly he can transform from the man who held me under the stars to a cold-hearted stranger who barely acknowledges me.
