Page 27 of The Boss
He whispers to Mac, “So, she’s insane, Cormac, yeah?” He looks out at the room. “I mean, something is very wrong with her, right?” Mac just hushes him and then raises a brow at me as I turn to take it all in.
An odd wedding color is one thing. So what if she likes hot pink? But this is something else. A circus theme for a wedding,complete with a mime in one corner of the church and a juggler in the other, this…is a cry for help.
But help is not coming,wifey.
I fight the urge to laugh myself.
She really went through with it.
I have so much surveillance footage of the real Luna, the sane one, it was easy to piece together her plan. Pretend to be insufferable so I’ll call off the wedding. She underestimates my patience. And my ability to see through bullshit.
She can whine all she wants, this deal is done. Her persistence is admirable. The effort she put into the deliveries at the house alone shows how tenacious she is. When Luna Mancini wants something, say, to make her fiancé think she’s a nut case, she goes full throttle for it.
I wonder though, looking across at her bridesmaids, whose faces are painted white, poking out from some kind of high-neck circus leotard get up, does she regret this? How far is too far? I was told there’s a live elephant waiting at the reception, making the whole ballroom smell like shit.
The aisles are draped in pink and white circus tent type fabric. The flowers are big, dyed, cheap, glaring. I can’t imagine what she had to do to get the church to allow all the balloons and fabric covering what is probably a lovely vaulted ceiling above us.
Hell, maybe she is insane. Maybe the thought of marrying me has sent her over the edge. It’s possible I should have given her a performance of my own, some kind of reaction. I’ve ignored her packages and incessant texting. I didn’t want to give her false hope that her little scheme has been working. Nothing is stopping this union.
The organ blares and the doors open. Everyone stands and turns to get a glimpse of the bride. I see Mancini senior first and then—
Holy shit.
I was bracing myself, but again, she has surprised me. She’s dressed as a ring leader. With a top hat. Mime type make up. Holding her damn mini-dog in another matching purse instead of a bouquet of flowers. A weird skirt that’s short in the front and long in the back below a top to the dress—is it a dress?—that looks like a uniform jacket. A sparkling hot pink uniform, with gold sequins everywhere. It’s hideous. All of this is wrong, grotesque.
But…sheisn’t.
She’s still gorgeous under it all.
Even her wide, fake smile right now is captivating. No one can look away. Her big black eyes, petite nose, full lips, rosy cheeks, they’re all beautiful and proportional like she was measured and created in a lab.
All her features are pinched up right now into a crazy expression. She holds the facade as she hands her maid of honor the dog. And as she approaches me, whispering some fake syrupy sweet greeting under her breath. She keeps it all intact until both of us actually say “I do.”
I see it as I grab her hands in mine. Something real in her eyes. It’s only a few seconds and I only catch it because I’m standing so close.
Defeat.
It stirs something deep in me, the loss of her usual intensity. I saw it in all the research photos and videos we gathered. I saw it every time her eyes met mine until now. It was a heat, always blazing in the background. Like she was scheming, planning, thinking a few moves ahead. Like I do.
Fuck all if I know why, but I hate that it disappeared.
So, instead of a quick peck on the cheek, I grab her made up little face and kiss the shit out of her. I kiss her three times, hard, groaning a bit at how soft her perfect pout is.
Then I pull back and fight a grin.
Her eyes flare, her lips part. She’s furious. It’s real and raw.
Good.
So good, I’m tempted to kiss her again. Tempted to take her mouth with my tongue and see just how angry I can make her. I know she doesn’t want this. Neither do I. But it’s happening, and unlike the woman she’s projecting, who has now turned to smile sweetly at the crowd, it’s real.
Luna Mancini, crazy or not, is mine now.
She better get used to the idea.
CHAPTER 17
Luna
