Page 36 of Stolen Vows
I swallow and take it.My fingers tremble.I roll my shoulders back and lock my gaze on the doors separating us from the sanctuary.
As the organ plays the first few notes of Canon D, my father reaches around me and squeezes my bruised arm.I gasp in pain and flinch back, but he dips his head to whisper in my ear as he pretends to offer me words of comfort.
“Serve him well and I’ll forgive you for this morning,” he threatens.
I close my eyes and nod like the puppet he expects me to be despite the rage festering in my soul.Perverse pleasure tugs at my lips as I anticipate his downfall.
I’ll serve someone well, but it won’t be who he thinks I will.
The ornate doors swing open.
Colors sparkle over the towering arches as sunlight glitters through the stained-glass windows.Thousands of eyes turn toward us.My father pats the back of my hand that’s on his arm.
I step forward, wishing to leave him behind if he doesn’t match my pace.Romeo stands in front of the altar in a truly resplendent suit, but the scene evokes no emotion in me.
It’s all a farce.He doesn’t give a shit about me.I won’t feel guilty for leaving him at the altar.Dead or alive, he deserves it for using this marriage as a power play.
I gasp and stumble as the vibrator hums to life inside me.Need roars through my veins.
The marble nave shines my reflection back up at me.My father clutches my arm with a look of concern on his face.
I long to sneer and push him away, but hundreds of guests watch us with judging eyes, so I clutch my bouquet tighter and continue down the aisle.
As we near the altar, my father tightens his grip on the back of my hand.The vibrator shifts inside me with every step.
I don’t look for Mario.Just knowing he’s nearby eases my angst despite how much I should hate him.
Romeo shifts as we approach him.My father stops and slips my hand off his arm with enough theatrics to make it seem like I don’t want to release him.
Pressure builds in my core as the vibrator intensifies.Sweat trickles down my back.I regulate my breathing as best as I can as my father extends my shaking limb toward the man he expects me to marry.
A millisecond before my fingertips touch Romeo’s palm, the door behind the pulpit opens.Metallic clicks fill the air as men from around the congregation take guns from their suit coats and pull back the hammers in unison with the man striding out from the sacristy.
Larger than life and strikingly handsome with his salt-and-pepper hair and the tattoos on his neck peeking out from his collar, Mario Luciano commands the space with suave ease.
My heart skips a beat.Pain lances up my arm as my father squeezes my wrist so hard my fingers close in a fist.Romeo stops with his hand halfway in his suit coat as Mario cocks his pistol and shifts his muzzle at my intended’s head.
My corset digs into my ribs as I fight the growing pressure in my womb.The vibrator continues its incessant buzzing deep inside me.With agony spearing through my wrist and urgency building between my legs, I stand amid the most dangerous mafia men in New York City as they face off.The tension around me exacerbates the tightening of my insides, and my mind struggles to stay in the moment despite how serious it is.
“Mario?How?”my father hisses.
His grip remains brutal on my wrist.He pulls me back so hard I stumble.The jerking motion shifts the vibrator inside me, and I yelp from the intensity.
Mario’s knowing smirk as he meets my eyes nearly tips me over the edge, but my father’s touch disgusts me back to sanity.
I heave and shake my head when Mario releases me from his gaze.The icy fury in his amber orbs as he shifts his aim to my father’s forehead chills me to the bone.
One slip and we might all die here today.
“It’s been a while, Pietro.Surprised to see me?”Mario sneers.
My father glares at him despite the panic whirling in his eyes.
Romeo pushes his hand deeper into his suit coat.
“Do it and your entire family dies here today,” Mario promises.
Romeo slips his hand out and holds both palms out at shoulder height.
