Page 24 of Broken Innocence
Forget about the past. Today is about the future.
Your future with Eden as your wife.
That’s all that matters to me now.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DMITRI PETROV
Weddings aren’t my thing. Women searching for their happily-ever-after. Men scoping out their next fuck. The only saving grace is the booze, and if there’s one thing Enzo D’Amora has going for him, it’s his excellent taste in liquor.
Sipping my brandy, I nod as the man continues extolling the benefits of the Boston Mafia joining with Blackthorn, the criminal organization I head with help from the rest of the Blackchapel Bastards.
“It’s about time we band together, Petrov. I know there is bad blood between you boys and The Syndicate, especially after that messy business in Paris with Petit, but we’re past that now.” Enzo waves his hand magnanimously over the crowd of guests as if he didn’t just brush over the death of one of his former friends and business partners during a firefight that also included my father, Sergei Petrov. Not to mention the assassination attempt on his eldest son. “Luca’s thinking like a D’Amora now. With this marriage, we’ll be unstoppable.”
I don’t correct his assumption, allowing a brief twitch of a grin to form.
Enzo and the rest of his associates will be ground into dust soon enough. Blackthorn doesn’t form alliances. We don’t playwell with others. We fuck them over—especially those part of The Syndicate.
Spying Luca with his new bride, I abruptly excuse myself from the conversation and weave through drunken dancers across the dance floor. A few ladies duck their heads and avert their eyes as I pass.
A muscle pops in my jaw.
I’m used to being feared—the Blackchapel Bastards are notorious—but it’s not just my reputation that scares women off. Somelikethe thrill of fucking a dangerous man. It’s the fact that my face looks like it had a run-in with a meat tenderizer. Except the tenderizer was my bastard father’s fists, before Mom got us out from under his thumb once she learned she was pregnant with my brother, Aleksei.
A brother currently locked up in prison while rising through the ranks of Sergei’s illegal arms group. It’s been over a year since I last saw my brother, though we manage covert phone calls every so often when he has an update for us.
Like when he rang to notify me about the added time to his sentence after getting in a fight. A brawl ordered by Sergei’s inside man to test Aleksei’s loyalty.
“Congrats to the newlyweds.” I slap Luca on the shoulder and offer a smile to his bride.
“Thank you,” Eden softly says as a pink blush stains her cheeks. Her traditional Italian lace wedding dress has sleeves and a high-neck that prevents anyone from seeing if the blush travels further. She’s fully covered from the veil pushed back from her face to the tips of her white-slippered toes.
She’s a beautiful bride, but the guests barely spared her a glance when she walked down the aisle with her father by her side. They were too intrigued by the switch in groom at the front of the church. Gossip ran rampant during the ceremony, and now at the reception.
“How does—Sorry, let me check this.” My phone vibrates with a text message from Jessie over at Polina’s Place, a safe house for women and children of domestic violence. Jessie manages the home while I’m a silent investor with Aleksei. Years ago, we both wanted to create something in honor of our mother, Polina, and a secure haven for abuse survivors—a place our family could have used—seemed like the perfect solution.
“Something wrong?” Luca asks.
“No, but I’ve got to go.” Slipping my phone in my jacket pocket, I clasp his arm in farewell. “Enjoy Italy, you two.” Then I exit the grand ballroom D’Amora secured for the reception, ignoring the trail of curiosity and horror that follows my footsteps.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EDEN
After last night’s wedding reception, Luca and I were driven to the airport by a Blackthorn soldier, where we boarded Blackchapel Inc.’s private jet for a nine-hour flight. Thankfully, Luca let me sleep alone in the bedroom while he handled final preparations for both of us taking the next two weeks off from work.
Yes, thebothof us.
I’m not sure how he’s going to smooth things over at the daycare when I’ve already used my PTO and sick days being cooped up at Blackchapel Manor. Maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe he’s blackmailing my boss into not firing me. I guess I’ll find out when I eventually return to work.
Luca hasn’t mentioned keeping me sequestered at the manor after our marriage, so I assume it’s okay that I have a job.
Geez, more things I should probably discuss with my husband.
As if I don’t already have a ton of questions.
“What’s going to happen once you kill Enzo and Fabian? You’ll run the mafia?” I ask before sipping the iced toastedmarshmallow latte the flight attendant, Kurie, brought out, along with a breakfast of fruit and pastries. According to her, we'll land soon.
