Page 40 of Unrelenting
As I watch the bride and groom exchanging vows, it’s obvious Giulia is holding back tears. She’s not just mad at the situation, she’s heartbroken.
It makes me feel like an asshole for being the one to walk her down the aisle. I volunteered to do it because I thought I could lighten the mood. Boy, was I wrong. The tension in here is suffocating.
“Violetta fucked up last night,” Damiano murmurs as the priest gallops through the ceremony, clearly terrified of my cousin.
Matteo has already cursed at him once for starting his sermon in Italian. Despite sharing our heritage, Giulia speaks little of the language.
“Yeah, I heard. Where is she?”
“At my place.”
I narrow my eyes. “Where at your place?”
“Downstairs.”
By downstairs, he means in the cells in his basement, but he obviously doesn’t want to admit to holding a woman prisoner while we’re sitting in a church. Like me, my brother isn’t a believer, but he respects the priesthood and the sanctity of the church.
“What are you planning to do with her?”
“Make her my wife.”
My jaw practically hits the floor when I hear that. Damiano hasn’t expressed a desire to marry, and if he had, I’d expect it to be to some Mafia princess whose father he wanted to do business with.
“Her grandfather didn’t think I was good enough for her. Do you think he’d accept you?”
Damiano shoots me a look that says, of course he will. Not that it would put my brother off if the old man did object.
In fact, it would probably make him more determined to claim the girl.
“It’s to your advantage,” Damiano reminds me. “She marries, you get the land.”
“And what does she get?”
Damiano flashes a feral grin. “Me.”
Poor Violetta. I may be relentless in the pursuit of what I want, but Damiano makes me look like a puppy. He’s unapologetically ruthless, and if he has to ride roughshod over this girl’s hopes and dreams to get what he wants, he’ll do it.
“You really want to marry her?” I ask.
“She’s mine.”
“Since when?” I’ve seen him staring at her from time to time, but I thought he only wanted her for a quick fuck.
“Since I decided it.”
His tone shuts down the conversation. I return my attention to the unhappy couple as the priest declares them to be man and wife and tells Matteo to kiss his bride.
As Matteo claims his prize, Giulia’s body language is stiff. If I was my cousin, I’d sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future. Giulia grew up in a Mafia family. I’m sure she knows where to get hold of a gun.
In my peripheral vision, I catch my cousin Olivia shaking her head. She doesn’t approve of her brother’s actions, butif Matteo’s heavy-handedness has achieved anything, it’s a softening of Olivia’s attitude toward Giulia.
Sitting next to my feisty little cousin, Piotr Reznov appears amused by the proceedings. He turned up with Damiano, which only served to further sour Olivia’s mood.
As Matteo and Giulia turn to walk back along the aisle into what I hope will be a happier future, the squeal of tires outside makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.
Something’s about to go down. I can feel it in my bones. I exchange a look with Piotr, and his expression tells me he also senses something is wrong.
Even before the church doors burst open and men pour in, I’m on my feet, gun drawn. There’s a split second of eerie silence, then all hell breaks loose.
