Page 133 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“I am. I couldn’t help myself. And I’m lecturing Milena about doing illegal stuff when I’m just as bad with the stealing. I just needed something to feel like me again. But afterward, I just felt so ashamed.” The way my voice breaks, cracks, and splinters down the middle makes me feel so weak. I’m so tired of crying. So tired of being not enough for everyone…

There’s a shout in the background and someone calling for Jacquetta. “Are you going to be okay, Em?”

“Me?” I give another painful laugh. “I’m fine. Really. You’ve got stuff to do now.”

“Emerald…”

I want to lie to her, to tell her that I can handle this like I’ve handled everything, but the words won’t come out.

“I’ll check in with you later tonight, okay? We’re not done, Em, and if you need me, I’m a text away. And I’ve got cat gifs galore.”

I snort before swiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve. “Thanks, Jacquetta,” I whisper.

“I love you, Em.”

“Love you too, Jac.”

The line disconnects, and I’m left sitting in the dark room. I bury my head in my knees and swallow down the sob that threatens to leave me as I wonder what I’m going to do now.

I look around myself.

And I know that I don’t belong here in this mansion.

Or among the people in the Imperiosi.

Or with Saint Veneti…

CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE

SAINT

I reach for my pack of cigarettes. Just one quick hit, and then I’ll go down the aisle.

I waste no time tapping out a smoke from the pack and lighting it.

Is it a sin to smoke inside a church? I briefly wonder but push the thought aside. If that’s the cardinal sin I commit that topples the scale, the world has bigger problems.

The smoke billows from my lips and out the open stained-glass window into the chilly air. What should bring a sense of calmness, a semblance of relaxation, does nothing but give me time to think.

Fuck this.

I snuff the cigarette out and stalk to the front of the church. Luxurious white floral arrangements decorate the aisle, all the way to where the priest waits. The decorations are elegant and refined yet suffocating all at once.

Guests are filing in, out of the biting cold that blew in over last week. Seeing all these people makes it all the more real. I adjust the cufflinks on my suit jacket for the fifteenth time since putting them on. I should be ecstatic to be here. Finally, I’m here. This is what I wanted, and yet…

My molars grind into one another before I let out a huff of air through my nose. I try to shrug it off. It doesn’t matter. I’ve got the girl. Finally, Emerald’s going to be mine. That alone should make the tension in my shoulders ease. But I just can’t shake the feeling brewing in my gut. Something feels wrong—like everything has since Ronnie’s passing. Off kilter and out of control.And I hate it.

I hate not being able to read Emerald.

The past two or three weeks have had a tension I can’t cut through no matter how hard I try. I know that Em’s had the stress of the wedding preparations and even more stress with the Milena issue. I clench and unclench my jaw. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

Once the vows are done, once I really have her, I’ll tell her everything. Really tell her. Really try to open up with my emotions. Maybe that’ll fix this tension between us.

“You ready?” Christian’s voice breaks my thoughts. He’s stood beside me on a day I never saw happening to me. I’m getting married—me, a man who’s cold, emotionless, ruthless. But a man who wants to melt for this one woman.

“Yeah.”

My gaze catches sight of the Marchiano family trooping into the church. “For fuck’s sake, who invited them?”

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