Page 12 of Between Us

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Her wedding day came too soon.

She wasn't ready.

Standing in front of the altar in the Orthodox Church, Alessandra realized for the first time in her life just how disposable she was, for the simple reason of being born a girl. Her father would have never allowed for things to get this far had it been Matteo in her stead. She loved her brother fiercely, but in her current predicament, she couldn't help being envious of the privileged place he had in their father's heart.

She was becoming the wife of a man who not only abided by foreign customs and social etiquette, but also a different faith. Of course, the Catholic Church recognized the union as long as there was a dispensation provided, and with the intervention of her father, that dispensation was received two days before the wedding.

Had her grandfather been alive, he would have diedall over again from a broken heart.

The priest went on with the ceremony, but she blocked him out, lost to her own thoughts. Beside her, Roman stood with his hands clasped in front of him, blue eyes set on a point above the altar doors. He looked just as ready as she was for this entire charade to be over with, and she realized with an odd sense of comfort that their feelings on the marriage were mutual. He wasn't any happier to be there than she was.

Hope kindled in her chest—timid and frail like a snowdrop trying to emerge from the cold earth.

Maybe she would find an ally in this unlikely pairing that had been forced upon them.

Gabriella had cried that morning—big, fat tears that spoke of hopelessness and fear for what was to come. Alessandra had no more tears left. With a stiff spine, she had accepted both her mother’s desperate hugs and Carmen’s insincere well-wishes as they helped her get ready for her big day. And now, hours later, she felt just as apathetic.

She hadn’t seen Luca around, and she didn’t think he was going to show up at all today. Not that it mattered. Luca had stopped being the center of her small universe the day he’d betrayed her trust. Another man demanded her attention now, and he was standing right beside her—a silent but commanding companion in a story that was just being written.

Almost an hour later, dazed by the foreign customs of wearing a crown during the second part of the ceremony and having to walk around the Holy Table, Alessandra's gaze searched for her husband's. The priest said something that sounded final but which she didn’t catch because she was still too distracted by herthoughts. But then Roman angled his body toward her, and before she realized what was going on, he leaned down and sealed their union with a soft kiss.

Alessandra inhaled sharply, her hands going up against his chest. Instinct told her to push him away, but when he grabbed her waist to gently pull her closer, she forgot all about it. His lips were warm and gentle as they pressed against hers, and all too soon, they were gone.

He let go of her, and she struggled to remember how to breathe. She’d been kissed before—of course, she had. But as she stared up at her new husband—that icy gaze of his set on her face—she fought the urge to trace her lips with her fingers. Around them, some guests clapped unenthusiastically, and Alessandra had to force her eyes away.

A moment later, Roman’s hand found hers, and she let him pull her down the aisle and toward the exit.

???

The wedding venue was brimming with unfamiliar faces—grim, sullen expressions that spoke of the guests' feelings on Alessandra’s nuptials with Roman. She spotted her parents, sitting at the same table as Vitaly Leskov and his much younger wife. Her father had his head slightly bent and was listening to whatever Vitaly was telling him, while her mother was smiling tightly at something the other woman said.

A business transaction.

This was all her marriage represented—a way to settle an old dispute and also profit from it.

Alessandra didn't know a whole lot about howthe mafia worked, but she did know that what was happening right now was unprecedented. There had never been a merger like this between two worlds so different. It was no wonder both sides were feeling less than happy about it.

Roman had left their table about ten minutes ago, and as her eyes scanned the crowd, she found him at the open bar, deep in conversation with another man. He looked relaxed as he nursed a tumbler of whiskey, and Alessandra had to wonder if it wasn't just a front.

“Hi.”

Startled by the voice, she looked up to see that someone had decided to join her in her husband’s absence. A young woman with dark hair coifed into a stylish bun and blue-gray eyes smoked to perfection smiled at her, and at a first glance, she didn't look much older than Alessandra.

“I'm Tatyana,” the woman said, taking Roman's empty seat and holding out a delicate hand. “The groom's sister.”

Alessandra grabbed her hand lightly, unable to hide the surprise on her face. She hadn’t yet met Roman’s siblings because no one had bothered to actually arrange it. All she knew at this point was that he was the eldest and he had a sister and a brother.

“Hello.” Alessandra found her voice, quickly recovering from the surprise of being approached.

“We haven't had the chance to officially meet, so I thought I'd introduce myself. I love the dress.”

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. She hadn't put that much effort into picking out a dress, but it was pretty enough people wouldn't be able to tell.

“I'm sorry.” When Alessandra gave her a confusedlook, Tatyana explained, “That you have to do this. It sucks.”

“Oh, well.” What else could she say, really?

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