Page 63 of Savage Poet

“Text her I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

Twisting through the crowd, I let her think she’d won. I let her lead me up wide marble stairs to an opulent bedroom connected to a study.

“What the fuck?” I muttered as glossy pictures of a stunning redhead were spilled all over a mahogany desk. Blue was there too. I picked up two photos and held them side by side.

“She’s not who you thought she was.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Their noses. Their stature. The curve of their cheeks. Blue was… Red?

“See my Don. I’m the one who is perfect for you. She is nothing but a lie. She wormed her way in and poisoned your heart. My poison is out in the open you’ll see it coming.

My world tilts on its axis.

Rage burns fast and hot like a river overflowing after a torrential rain. She made my black heart bleed. Now there was no choice but to go to war.

* * *

My hands lifted the veil.Her eyes glowed with triumph. I was all fucked up inside. Rage billowed around me like a cloud. Most days I wore it, proudly. She got off on it. Julietta my dark bride loved it. She craved turmoil. I spoke the vows knowing I’d break them. But I’ve had an unusual relationship with God. I stood in the same church my father and grandfather did, in the same spot they took their mafia brides, I took mine.

It was a union of bloodshed.

“You’re mine.”

“No one will ever claim that,” I warned.

“The vows you speak will say otherwise.”

“I won’t mean them, and you know it.”

To everyone watching, our tilted heads looked romantic. As if we were whispering love words.

“I have a special gift for my new husband… my men have her… their cutting her heart out as we speak. She’s gone… accept it and move on.”

My heart hammered. Blue. I hated her… loved her… craved her. I wanted to be the one to give punishment. And I already had it all planned. She’d be my slave. My submissive and she’d serve a lifetime sentence.

“Pathetic,” she hissed. “How you still drool for her like a dog with a bone. She betrayed you, I saved you and yet you stand here at the altar still hungering for a Fiorelli when you are about to take me as your queen?”

“My queen?” I sneered, “the only way I’m fucking you tonight is if I down a box of Viagra and hallucinogens.”

The priest cleared his throat, my bride was trembling with rage, her bare neck was red with it.

I spoke the vows. Said the words, all the while pretending I was gripping the hand of another. Instead of brown eyes, I saw bright blue. Instead of espresso hair, I imagined the screaming shade of the ocean at dawn.

Damn her.

As soon as I could get out of Italy, I was going after her. She kept giving my tail the slip, but that shit was ending as soon as I was stateside. I wanted answers and I’d get them even if I had to wrap my hands around her throat again…even if I had to do more. My fury demanded I do more. All I could think about was fucking her senseless, collaring her like a dog and making her beg for my love.

Romina. Blue. It fucked me up that they were one and the same. Somehow, I got through the cake cutting, the dance… Julietta must’ve known what was coming but she wasn’t afraid. If anything, she acted as if she couldn’t wait.

A large hand clamped on my shoulder, I turned finding her brother’s pot-mocked face too close. “Fuck my sister over and you’re a dead man.”

I shook my head. “You’re the dead man, Vince. Fuck off.” I flung his hand from me and nodded to Johnny.

He downed his drink and smiled. He slipped from the room while I still shook hands with well-wishers.

“I have a surprise for my bride.”

Her brows rose. “A thank you for enlightening me about the Fiorelli girl…”

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