Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
It was me playing the part of the loyal son, living in the shadow of a man who I’m sure would kill me if it benefited him. He’s never been a father, not in ways that matter to most. Family over everything is the motto he beat into me, and for the first time, I think I get it. Siân is my family, and I will protect her at all costs. So if that means killing the man who raised me to prove that to her, then so be it.
I blink away my thoughts, and at the same time, I realize the wetness on my face. A single tear trails my left cheek, and I quickly wipe it away. The closer Siân gets, the more comfortable I get with the decision.
If anyone is going to take out my father, should it be an enemy? Should I allow his legacy to be forever tainted? To give anyone outside the family the opportunity to claim that victory? No. They don’t deserve it. He is my father at the end of the day, and it would be better that I am the one to end him and not someone else.
A sacrifice is what this will be. My entire upbringing has been a sacrifice for the family. The harsh parenting and lessons in murder and mayhem were all for the family, even down to ordering me to kill a man before I’d even grown a hair on my chest. He sacrificed my innocence for his gain, and Samuele’s death will be the sacrifice for my future.
With a renewed look on life, I push my shoulders back and step off the makeshift platform to meet my bride. She’s stunning. Even when she’s visibly nervous, she manages to hold her head high. And I know that is partly because of Cynthia. After everything she's learned today, she is going through with our nuptials to protect the woman who raised her. But a part of her is also torn with herself. She loved me once, and I’m inclined to believe that hasn’t completely gone away.
Siân turns to Cynthia, who smiles despite everything that has happened to her as well. Their relationship will be forever changed after the events of today, but every mother longs to see the day their daughter is married. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never had a mother, so I wouldn’t know what that looks like.
The two hug in a long embrace, tears falling from their eyes. After a while, they break apart, only for Cynthia to take Siân by the hands.
“I am so sorry you’re doing this to keep me safe. But—”
Siân shakes her head. “It’s okay. You’ve protected me my entire life, and while you may have kept the truth from me, nothing changes how much I love you. It’s my turn to worry about your safety.”
Cynthia sighs, then gives Siân a nod, silently agreeing to the terms of our newest agreement. I want to feel sorry for forcing her hand and threatening to kill the only loved one she has left to get her to this point, but I can’t. Siân is mine, and I will secure that by any means necessary.
After saying their piece, Cynthia turns and saunters over to her seat next to Tony. He sits upright, his resentment for her still brewing at the surface. I ignore the brief interaction between them and hold my hand out to Siân. Hesitantly she accepts after glancing around at all the faces of those here to witness this.
It looks like any other wedding, except the people in the crowd, are equipped with more weapons than in a war zone. Every member of my father’s organization is here this evening, something I’m actually happy about. We still haven’t figured out who ordered the attack on Siân or the hit on the other families. So having them here in case the motherfucker tries again is for the best.
Siân grabs the train of her dress, and for the first time since this all started, I take in the elegance. Helga did an amazing job pulling this all together so quickly. Tony too. One would think this has been planned for months, down to the color scheme, flowers, and décor. There isn’t a stone unturned.
I give her a smile, and she returns the gesture. It’s a lazy one at best, but a smile nonetheless. As she steps up on the platform and takes her place beside me, I’m hit with a sudden rush of nerves. Sucking in a breath, I pull myself together and signal for the priest to begin.
“Today, we’ve come together to witness the union of these two individuals. Christian Russo and Siân Giuliani,” Father Frances says through a thick Italian accent.
As he performs the ceremony, marrying me to my beloved for eternity, everything else ceases to exist.