Page 13 of Bellini Bound
“Keep up!” I barked when she stumbled.
Allison peeked over her shoulder when we reached the vestibule, and I didn’t stop on my way to the exit. “You’re not going to let me say goodbye?”
Annoyed, I huffed, “You’ve had the past two days to do that.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times without any words coming out, and in her stunned state, she didn’t protest again when I pulled her out of the church and down the steps to my waiting car.
My stomach churned knowing this was only day one of this nightmare.
Chapter 4
Allie
“Getin.”
I jolted at the barked command from my new husband as I stared at the open rear door to a blacked-out SUV. With a high-profile police officer for a father, I’d been coached on how to survive a potential abduction. And rule number one was to do everything in your power to prevent them from moving you to a second location, as that decreased the odds that you would be found.
This isn’t a kidnapping, Allie, just a marriage to a known criminal.
Maybe so, but there’s no guarantee he won’t hurt me in order to further punish Dad.
My hesitation didn’t go unnoticed, and Enzo huffed in frustration. “Now.”
“Um . . .” Try as I might, I couldn’t make my feet move.
The man at my side arched a dark eyebrow. “Did you or did you not just vow to obey me with God asour witness?”
Manic laughter bubbled up from my chest. If there was a God, he’d clearly abandoned me, so what did I care about promises made inside His house?
Enzo’s eyes closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily. “I fail to find the humor in this situation, Allison.”
“Allie,” I corrected almost automatically.
His eyes sprang open, and the intensity in their hazel depths had me shrinking back. Jaw clenching so hard that a muscle in his cheek twitched, he gritted out, “Get. In. The. Car.Allison.”
A shiver ran down my spine, but I obeyed. Gathering up the fabric of my skirt, I climbed into the backseat. When I noticed there was a driver already inside, I made a move to shift toward the far side of the bench to make room for Enzo but yelped when the door was slammed shut behind me. I was still trying to settle my racing heart when the man I married hopped into the front passenger seat, and we were tearing down the city street at breakneck speed.
Glaring at the back of his buzzed head, I couldn’t believe this was the same man I’d met all those months ago at the hospital. The one whose tattooed torso and arms had me practically drooling from across the waiting room until I’d come up with the idea to offer the guy he was with, who was covered in soot from a house fire, a pair of scrubs to have an excuse to talk to him.
The ink decorating every inch of his skin was even more mesmerizing up close. There was even a fleeting moment where I imagined tracing each line with my tongue. And I wondered if that was something he would even like, since I didn’t exactly have experience being intimate with a man. Not for lack of trying on my part, but it would seem that having a high-profile law enforcement father was the equivalent of wearing a chastity belt.
For weeks—okay, who was I kidding? For months—afterward, I couldn’t stop picturing him every time I closed my eyes. He’d been charming, playful almost, when I joked that he was his companion’s doppelgänger. The men were clearly related, sharing nearly identical facial features, but Enzo was the more rugged version of the two. He gave off total bad-boy vibes that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
My whole life, I’d been the strait-laced cop’s daughter, never setting a single toe out of line. But I couldn’t help picturing what it might be like to have Enzo—as he’d introduced himself to me that night—take me for a walk on the wild side.
I was nothing more than a foolish little girl if I’d thought the wild side didn’t mean the wrong side of the law. Crime was his business, for crying out loud. And now I was bound to him, practically complicit in all his illegal activities, until death do us part.
The man I exchanged vows with mere minutes ago was the polar opposite of the one I met that night in the hospital. The charm had vanished, along with his smile, and I blinked furiously as tears burned behind my eyes at the memory of how he’d demanded I lose weight when my ring didn’t fit.
Even though I wasn’t what society often depicted as the ideal shape and size, I had always felt comfortable in my own skin. Until today. When my husband outright called me fat, in front of both our families, without an ounce of shame.
The car rolled to a stop, jarring me back to the present.
My jaw dropped when I saw the sprawling mansion with a stone façade visible through the window. If it was this stunning on the outside, I could only imagine how gorgeous the inside would be.
So what? It’s a pretty prison. Who fucking cares?
Right. Couldn’t forget that I was essentially a hostage in this situation, no matter how beautiful or comfortable the accommodations might be.
