Page 29 of Deceit
Trapping my bottom lip between my teeth to stop it from quivering, thewedding co-ordinator turned her attention to us, thankfully stopping me from having to reply to Papa. I wasn’t sure I would be able to speak without bursting into tears or throwing myself at his feet andimploringhim to stop the ceremony.
“Now,”she said, giving Papa’s back an encouraging nudge.
Taking the cue, Papa tugged my arm, leading me to the gap between theevergreens. As the space opened up, my knees began to shake. Rows upon rows of people stood, all eyes fixed on Papa and me as we began our way down the white carpetthathad been laid atop the grass.
Ignoring their adoring smiles and not giving myself a second to take in thebeautiful pink and white flower arrangements running the length of the aisle, my eyes sought out Rafe.
He stood right at the front, andevenwith the distance between us, I couldsense his anguish. Refusing to look anywhere else, I kept my gaze on him, his silent reassurance pushing me forward.
One step at a time.
It was only when Papa led me past RafethatI realized we’d reached the endof the aisle. Pulling me to a stop, Papa stood in front of me to lift my veil. He leaned forward, kissing my cheek with a fake adoring smile planted on his face.
When he stepped out of the way, my breath hitched, caught at the murderouslook on myverysoon-to-be husband’s face.
Chapter 8
Miles
Sofia Bianchi was a liar.
She was the daughter of my enemy.
She claimed hearts and left them broken in her wake.
Those were the words I repeated to myself as I watched her glide down theaisle, doing my damn best not to acknowledge how fucking stunning she looked in her wedding dress.
Tryingto ignore how my heart raced every time she peeked up at me fromunder her lashes.Tryingto ignore how my cock twitched whenever the image of stripping her out ofthatgoddamn dress and fucking her until she couldn’t walk sneaked into my head.
Tryingto ignore feelings I had no right to have.
I repeated my mantra.
Sofia Bianchi was a liar.
She was the daughter of my enemy.
She claimed hearts and left them broken in her wake.
She brought feelings out of methatI didn’t fucking want.
I spent the entire day being tortured. From the minute Georgio lifted her veiland her gorgeous, fearful eyes met mine, to when we exchanged vows, to when the celebrant announced us as man and wife, andthatI could kiss my bride.
The urge to claim her mouth and show the world that she belonged to me wasall-consuming, but with the memory of her whispered,‘always Theo,’ringing constantly in my ears, I granted myself a chaste kiss on her cheek.
I could have sworn I saw a flash of disappointment in her vivid blue orbs,the delicate makeup she was wearing making them more vibrant than usual.
Ifthathadn’t been torture enough, what followed was almost enough tomake me want to pull out the two guns I had holstered under my tux and fire them both into my head. Almost.
Wedding photos.
Speeches.
More fucking photos.
People I had never met before rushing up to congratulate us on our big day.
The whole fucking shebang.
