Page 109 of Mafia Boss's Fake Wife

Upset, I follow her into the church.

Roisin doesn’t want me. I’m forcing her into this.

Maybe the only protection she needs isn’t from anyone…

Except me.

The whole ceremony takes less than thirty minutes.

Probably.

I’m sweating bullets, and it’s the longest thirty minutes of my life. All I can think about is Roisin.

Is she happy? Is she okay? I want to look over at her, but the priest keeps droning on and on in Italian, and I know I’m not supposed to look over at her…

Finally, the priest wraps up. He stares at the two of us, and then says in Italian, “You can kiss your bride, young man.”

I freeze.

Roisin looks up at me. “What’d he say?”

“He… we’re done,” I grunt.

The priest gives me an eyebrow raise, but I quickly grab Roisin’s hand. “We’re done,” I grunt.

She makes a noise, but follows me out of the little chapel.

I tug her over the stones and shove her back into the car. I can’t help it; I feel like a fucking caveman right now. I overwhelmingly want to bring Roisin back to a house and fuck her senseless.

I start up the car, the Land Rover roaring to life as I practically burn the tires screaming out of the small gravel parking lot.

“What the hell was that?” Roisin says, barking at me.

“He was being creepy.”

“What did he say?”

I squeeze the wheel. “He told me to kiss you.”

Roisin’s jaw drops. “Like, as in kiss the bride? The totally normal, regular thing that people say to newlyweds basically every single time?”

The leather of the car steering wheel squeaks under my fingers as I grind down on it.

“You’re kidding, Marco. Seriously? That’s what he said?”

“He was a fucking creep.”

She rolls her eyes. “Jaysus Christ, Marco?—”

I jerk the wheel of the car, making Roisin squeak. There’s not a lot of space on these tiny mountain roads, but I manage to pull over into a little space tucked up against the side of the rocky face, the gravel spraying from under our tires as I do.

Roisin screeches. “What in the?—”

I cut her off, my lips covering hers as I silence her.

The kiss isn’t soft, and it isn’t easy. It’s full of all my frustration, and the confusion, and the deep anguish I feel every time I think about what I’ve done to Roisin. What I’ve brought on her.

What I’ve fucked up, and I’m now worried I can’t ever fix.

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