Page 58 of The Red Queen

It was the first time Mrs. Capelli had called her anything except Signora.

“Giana,” Desi said the other woman’s given name, glad she’d bothered to find out. She’d asked Giovanni about the housekeeper and had found out she’d been friends with his wife’s mother from when they were children. He’d expected her to leave when his wife died. When she didn’t leave, he kept her on. His house ran smoothly and though she was somewhat of a grim spectre haunting the place, never allowing him to forget the loss of his wife, he hadn’t the heart to send her away.

Desi had no heart except for the one Giovanni resurrected, and it belonged to him alone.

“Two things are going to save you from the death you so richly deserve,” Desi snarled, glaring murderous intent into the other woman’s eyes.

“But I…!” Desi tightened the knife against Mrs. Capelli’s throat until she let out a strangled gurgle and stopped talking.

“One, you were a friend to Giovanni’s dead wife, and I will not desecrate her memory in what used to be her home with your blood. From all accounts, she was a good woman and wouldn’t have wanted her husband to suffer. And he would suffer if you and Antonio had succeeded in killing me.” Desi paused, allowing her words to sink in. It gratified her when a flash of shame crossed Mrs. Cappelli’s features. “Second. You will leave here and never come back. If I see you again, I will hunt your ass down and slice you up one piece at a time. Nod if you understand.”

Desi loosened her grip so the other woman could nod emphatically.

Stepping back, Desi released her and watched dispassionately as the woman fled.

She turned to Vitto. “Time to get married.”

Vitto escorted her through the house and out into the estate garden where the wedding guests were gathered.

Desi dumped the gun and knife in a nearby planter, threw a grin at Vitto, and took her place on the edge of the white carpet littered with red rose petals. Her eyes lifted, and she met Giovanni’s glowing gaze, beckoning her to come to him. Nothing, not even a bullet, could stop her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

There was blood on her dress. Giovanni saw it the moment she stepped out from the house. Hers or someone else’s? He watched as she stood at the back of the aisle, a bouquet of red roses clutched in her shaking hands. She used it to hide the source of the bleeding.

He took a step down from the bridal dais, intent on reaching her. Nothing should have happened to her in the safety of his home and if something had, he was going to bring hell down on the perpetrators. He’d spent the past several weeks trying to build Desi’s confidence, her trust. If someone had shattered that, he would find them and string them up among the wedding lights littered throughout the vineyard.

Desi shook her head as he started toward her, and he halted.

Her dark eyes, filled with pain and determination, stayed on him as the orchestra began playing an instrumental version of ‘We Found Love’. Desi started on her path down the aisle, walking in time with the music.

Whispers and gasps rose from the guests as they caught sight of her and the blood staining the front of her long, white skirt. Though she’d used a makeshift bandage to stem the bleeding, it had soaked through, leaving a widening stain at the front and side of her dress.

Someone had injured her grievously, and she was acting as though nothing had happened. Pride and anger filled him. Pride that this woman was so determined to tie herself to him that she was willing to ignore a wound of this magnitude, and anger that she refused to ask for help, even now, after weeks of him laying the world at her feet.

Ignoring her command that he stay and allow her to walk alone, he strode down the aisle toward her. She froze and waited for him, fear in her eyes. Fear that he would stop the wedding.

Donada had leapt to her feet and was trying to climb over guests to get to Desi, but he looked at her and shook his head sharply, commanding her to sit. Donada allowed Alina to pull her back down, but her pale face still registered the shock of seeing her friend bleeding on the aisle carpet.

“Gio…” Desi whispered as he approached.

He didn’t let her finish. He bent and swept her up into his arms, trying not to jar her. The move was unexpected, but she bit back her cry of pain as he lifted her. His gaze dropped to her wound. She’d been either stabbed or shot.

“What happened?” he demanded in a low voice as guests stood to get a better look at the couple.

Instead of answering, she said, “You should see the other guy.”

“Is this a joke to you?” he demanded. “You show up at our wedding in this condition and you dare to joke.”

Pain shone through in her gaze. “I have to, Gio, or I might start crying and I refuse to do that in front of all these people.” She touched his cheek, running her fingers over his freshly shaven jaw. “It’s a flesh wound, I’ll be fine.”

He softened, knowing she could tell if a wound was fatal or not. “Can you manage the next five minutes?”

She smiled at him. “Not even a bullet can stop me.”

So she’d been shot.

It took him a moment to control the rage racing through him, then he turned and strode up the aisle toward the priest. He didn’t set her down but tightened his hold when she made a move to stand on her own.

---