Page 87 of Thorns of Death
“Not right away,” Enzo muttered.
Athena and Raven burst into full-blown laughter. “Wow, lover boy,” Raven teased. “Too bad you’re like ten years too young.”
“We don’t mind cougars,” Amadeo announced, smiling like the world was at his feet.
The girls got into a rowdy discussion with the boys while Manuel observed.
I felt Enrico slip a hand onto my hip, the touch possessive and claiming. My insides quivered, already craving the feeling of his warm body on mine. I had never wanted to be consumed so badly. Owned.
“How about a celebration dinner, and we can continue the discussion of cougars,” Enrico suggested.
Reina interpreted for Phoenix.
“Or we can talk about sugar daddies,” Athena deadpanned, her eyes sparkling.
Laughing, we all headed toward the dining room.
TWENTY-NINE
ENRICO
Iknew Isla had spirit.
It was something I spotted the moment I’d laid eyes on her. She sparkled. She smiled. She was happy. At least, at this very moment she was.
Bouquets of red and white roses were scattered over the center of the table. The dining room had been transformed for the wedding dinner. The crystals in the chandelier glimmered, throwing a soft glow around the room. Candles set off a romantic mood in the atmosphere, making the space feel cozy and intimate.
Except every so often, I’d catch Isla sigh as she glanced down at her phone. She worried for her brother and her sister-in-law. I had been checking on the situation too. There was nothing new to report, but if I knew Konstantin, he would protect his wife at the cost of the entire world.
My gaze found my own wife. My beautiful bride, through blackmail or not.
I’d burn down the entire world for her. I’d destroy empires, including my own if it meant keeping her. How was it possible to go from not caring about anyone but my sons to caring for someone so deeply? It was different with Enzo and Amadeo. They needed me. But this woman didn’t, yet I couldn’t let her go. The truth of the matter was that her brother could protect her. After all, he had kept her a secret from the Omertà for the past twenty-three years. Our one night together exposed her to the underworld.
I grabbed a glass vase, straightened up, and extended my hand to my young bride.
She eyed the vase and my hand curiously. “What?”
“It’s time to break the glass,” Manuel announced. “Forbuona fortuna.”
By the expression on Isla’s face, and her friends’, they had no idea what he said. Honestly, I was surprised the Romero girls weren’t aware of the Italian term signifying good fortune. Their family must have really kept them sheltered.
“For good luck,” I clarified. “The number of broken pieces will represent the number of years we’ll be happily married.”
Isla snickered softly, her little button nose scrunching. “Well, by all means. You’re gonna need all the luck you can get.”
She took my hand, stood up, and together we made our way to the corner of the room.
“I hope you know, I won’t be cleaning this up,” Isla warned.
I could hear Manuel’s chuckle, and I wanted to wring his neck. “It’s your wedding day. You’re not expected to clean nor cook today.”
She rolled her eyes. “Or ever.”
We both held the vase and I counted. “One, two, three. Now.”
We dropped the glass and watched it shatter all over the marble flooring into hundreds of tiny little pieces.
“Well, shit. It seems you’ll be stuck with my nephew for quite some time,” Manuel remarked.
