Page 17 of Unholy Union
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of Cato Valente and Sabrina Corsini. Marriage is not entered into lightly, but reverently, and with full understanding of its meaning.”
As he speaks, Sabrina and I are locked into our tense, prolonged staring contest. She eyes me like I’d done her the other night, as if I’m amusing her. I’m in a less humorous mood, staring her down with open contempt.
Without a single fuck to give about the fact that we’re in front of fifteen hundred people.
The woman who stands before me is no real wife of mine. She’s my mortal enemy who will be living under my roof. She’s possibly the most dangerous threat I’ve ever encountered.
“Do you, Cato Valente, take Sabrina Corsini to be your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” the priest asks.
I’m snapped back to the moment, my gaze never leaving hers. “I do.”
The words are spoken coldly, emphatically.
“And do you, Sabrina Corsini, take Cato Valente to be your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward?—”
“I do,” she interrupts sharply, looking me dead in the eye as she does.
If the priest notices the charged tension between us, he pretends otherwise. He drones on and on as we continue our silent battle of wills, barely refraining from going at each other’s throats.
“By the power vested in me by the Holy Church, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Before Sabrina can rebuff me, I grab her by the waist and wrench her toward me, planting a kiss on her mouth. Her lips are soft but dead as I press mine to hers, and I can practically feel her urge to shove me away.
But she doesn’t have the chance to. I’ve grabbed hold of her and am savoring the chance to make her squirm in my arms. Make her suffer a little. Show her just what’s to come.
The entire cathedral has erupted into joyous applause. Almost everyone clueless as to the power struggle that’s happening at the altar before their very eyes.
When I finally do let Sabrina pull away, I’m grinning wide as she fumes, cheeks flushed. I reach up and stroke her jaw almost tenderly, like a real lover would.
“You can hate me all you want, Sabrina. But you’ll do it in my house. In my bed. With my ring on your finger,” I say low enough for only her to hear. The applause and cheers are thunderous, reverberating around the room. “Now smile for the crowd, principessa. Be the happy little bride they think you are.”
Chapter 6
Sabrina
Luna - Alessandro Safina
The only way to survive a wedding you’re forced into is to drink like it’s a funeral instead. I swallow the last of my second glass of prosecco, staring forlornly in the mirror at my reflection. The perfect bride stares back at me, all dolled up in lace and tulle. Not a curl’s out of place and my make up is photo ready.
I’m still in the wedding gown I had Tessa’s friend Viola design for me. The same wedding dress that damn near dropped everyone’s jaw at the ceremony. I could see the surprise pass over my husband’s face. Offense clenched his father’s features as my own walked me down the aisle.
Now that the ceremony’s over, the reception is underway.
We’ve switched venues, from the historic St. Patrick’s Cathedral to the posh and elite Gotham Club on East 50thstreet. I’m seated at a vanity table in a private antechamber, supposedly “freshening up” before Cato and I make our official marital debut.
Instead, I’m chugging prosecco like my life depends on it. I need it if I’m going to make it through the rest of tonight.
I felt empowered in the best way strutting down the aisle in a wedding gown the exact opposite of what Augusto Valente picked out for me. Petty satisfaction thrummed through me as I stared Cato dead in the eye, defiant and unapologetic.
Then the priest gave his sermon, we each said ‘I do’, and Cato flipped the script on me. He made it clear the dress I wore didn’t matter; I’m tied to him for life now.
I reach for the bottle of prosecco, taking a swig directly from it, skipping the glass altogether.
It’s still hard to believe Papi really forced me into a marriage withCato Valenteof all people. His only daughter. His princess.
The Valentes killed Leo!
The door to the antechamber swings open, and in strolls Tessa and Jasmine. Maybe the only two people a part of this whole farce of a wedding truly in my corner.
