Page 14 of Veiled Amor

Before she could speak, she rubbed a hand around the front of her throat, nerves making her swallow. “Giancarlo? It’s me.”

There was a lot of explaining to do before she could ask him for help.

For all she knew, he might have enjoyed the last few weeks without having to endure a call with her.

As always, she was about to be a giant inconvenience to Giancarlo.

But as he’d told her once, they were family, and family could ask for anything.

Not anything, as she’d later found out. He’d never taken the hint when she dropped them about visiting him in Colorado.

But this wasn’t anything frivolous she was asking for.

If his club was as notoriously powerful as she read about, then they’d have the means to disappear her for good.

She was banking a lot on Giancarlo still holding some family affection for her as his once sister-in-law. After not seeing him for over six years, he could be a completely different person.

No time like the present to find out.

He was the only one she trusted to help unlock her cage.

Taking a deep breath, Lucia started to talk.

SIX

“He was not catching the bouquet, not for all the wedding cake in the world.” - Capone

A little earlier

Capone hated weddings.

They went on too long.

Making him itchy.

He wasn’t against long-term commitments.

He was down to the bones happy for Rider and Zara. This day had been a long time coming for them both. They deserved this more than anyone else did after what they’d endured to be together.

But the whole symbolism of what a wedding comprised of didn’t sit well with him, and he was antsy to get it over with.

He’d bought them a gift.

Helped get Rider drunk for his bachelor party.

He’d even spit-polished the Prez’s Harley for later.

Capone had lost count of how many of these things he’d attended in the last decade. He turned up because he gave a shit about his club brothers and old ladies they chose. But he was the lone guy at these things who couldn’t wait until it was over so he could get out of there and breathe.

Love and soulmates didn’t exist.

Sure, he could see it with his own eyes when he looked at Rider and Zara. Or any of his other brothers who’d gotten hitched recently. Preacher, for example, was a changed man. The guy no longer trawled bars looking for a distraction to his PTSD. He’d got all the good he wanted at home with Ruby and their kids. If he looked around the fancy hotel right now, his eyes would see varying versions of the same love on many faces.

What he meant was that shit didn’t exist for him.

Love and soulmates soured a man when he watched a woman he had a connection with saying her wedding vows to someone else.

Kinda made him jaded as fuck and bitter toward love. Making him wonder if it existed or people were pretending.

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