Page 216 of Anti-Heroes in Love Duet
Setting up a real wedding inside the veil of a fake one.
Marrying Elena when we should have been fleeing the country.
Joining my eternally dangerous life with the life of a woman who only deserved happiness for the rest of her days. I couldn’t offer her perfection, a happily-ever-after without strife and turmoil. But I could offer her the secret delights of the dark side of her soul; chaos and wonder, violence and passion, action and endless adventure. I could show her the kind of love we hadn’t even known existed until we fell into each other and became two souls entangled into one.
It was selfish and reckless, but I would never regret making that incredible woman my wife, and I’d work every day to make sure she never regretted it too.
We left the church as soon as the brief ceremony was complete to return to the docks. Frankie was waiting with another boat, kissing Elena and congratulating her as I talked to Tore.
“Is everything in place?”
He nodded. “The party is in full swing. Leonardo is there. He texted to say Rocco has sent men looking for you.”
“Let them find us.” Marrying Elena had stirred the beast inside me. It pulled at the chains I kept it shackled in and growled so hard inside my chest I vibrated. I’d always wanted to kill Rocco Abruzzi for selling Cosima into slavery, but now I wanted to eviscerate him for daring to threaten Elena. “We have one night to clean house here, and then we’re leaving. Is Damiano ready to take over?”
“As ready as he can be,” he allowed, looking over at Elena as she laughed with Cosima and Alexander saying their goodbyes. “Will you tell your wife she is in for a bloody honeymoon and a long stretch without her new husband?”
“She won’t care about the bloody honeymoon.” My grin was savage. “If anything, she might want to put Rocco Abruzzi into the ground herself.”
“Ah, young love,” Tore joked before taking me in a back-slapping hug. “Be safe,figlio.”
“And you,” I ordered.
I moved away from him to collect my wife from her sister and my brother. She slid into my side like a puzzle piece, her smile brighter than the Italian sun descending quickly into the sea.
“Thank you,” I told Cosima and Alexander, offering my hand to my brother. He clasped it in his own, his grip strong and sure. “The risk you took today saved lives.”
“I don’t care about anyone’s life in this situation but yours. Though, I’m happy to have saved it,” Alexander said in his blunt, cold way. “You saved Cosima when I wasn’t able to save her. I’ll never stop owing you for that.”
“It’s not a debt if I was invested too,” I argued.
His golden brows rose. “Then consider this the same. Even when I thought I hated you, I never stopped loving you. Glad to see you found the best kind of woman to love you too.”
“Wow,” Cosima mock whispered to Elena. “This is the nicest they’ve ever been to each other.”
Elena and I laughed.
“I’ll see you soon,” Cosi promised us, stepping forward to enfold us both in her arms.
She smelled of spice, of sweet autumn leaves and Indian summer nights. I held her close and felt my love for her move through me, placid and smooth.
It amused me to think I ever fancied myself in love with her when my feelings for Elena so easily eclipsed that tenderness I felt for her sister.
Our love was violent.
There was nothing soft or subtle about the way it caught my soul up in a whirlwind fury of intense longing and furious passion. I was fevered. Obsessed. So in love it felt like I was hit in the face with it every time I looked at the woman in possession of my heart.
Maybe it made me a masochist, but I fucking loved it.
We finished our goodbyes, and I helped Elena into the black speedboat I’d captain back to Naples.
“You know how to drive a boat?” she asked as I started the boat, then caught the ropes from Tore and cast off from the pier. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
I winked. “No.”
“You can’t be humble,” she said, but she did it laughing.
I watched her lean back in her seat, her hair catching in the wind as I revved the engine and took us cutting through the waves back to her hometown. She was languid, graceful as always, but heavy with contentment. Her lids were low over warm gray eyes that watched me as I steered the boat easily through the errant fishing vessels dotting the harbor.
