Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Suddenly I felt nervous. I wasn’t even sure why.
“I get it now,” Dad said suddenly.
I couldn’t follow his train of thought. “Why you chose him. Maddox is going to spend every day of your life together trying to be the man you deserve. He’ll try to make you happy. Any man in our world would have tried to please me, to make me happy. With Maddox, you won’t have to worry about it, and I guess that’s good. As your husband, he should always think of you first when he makes a decision, not about his Capo or his chances of rising in rank.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car.
This was going to be the wedding of the year. Everyone was talking about it. Many in not very favorable terms. Most of them were clever enough to keep the rumors down.
I looked like a different version of myself in the tuxedo, all of my tattoos covered. As the man at Marcella’s side, I’d occasionally have to play a role, but it was something I did gladly. These people meant nothing.
The old doors of the church creaked, the sound reverberating in the nave.
The entire wedding party seemed to suck in a breath when Marcella entered the church at Luca’s side. She was so beautiful, they should have her face plastered on paintings instead of angels, and I didn’t give a damn how blasphemous that might be.
I kept my eyes only on her, forgetting everyone around us, even Luca who led her to the altar.
I didn’t know much about wedding dresses, nor about wedding traditions. The moment I saw Marcella, nothing else mattered. Not the critical or judgmental looks from some of the guests, or even the hostile expressions from some of the Made Men. To win the trust of the Famiglia, I still had a long way to go. But I’d finally arrived where I needed to be, at the side of a good woman.
Marcella wore a tight, floor-length dress. The upper part was lace with a high neck that even covered part of her throat, letting her neck appear even more elegant. Pieces of lace adorned her wrists and sheer fabric covered her arms up until the short sleeves. It was an elegant dress, but still managed to appear almost conservative. Of course, Marcella wouldn’t be Marcella if she didn’t give her critics the finger in a subtle way. The lace in the back had a hole right over the tattoo of her crown. Her hair was up so every guest who watched the ceremony had to stare at her crown. A queen through and through.
I could only imagine what some of the stuck-up folk in the Famiglia thought of that. Maybe they had thought Marcella would have a small wedding, everything hush-hush because of who she married, or that she would hide the marks of her captivity, but Marcella wasn’t someone who hid or ducked away, and fuck that’s what I loved about her. She could be tough as nails but beneath it she was soft as molten butter.
I tore my eyes away from her with ginormous difficulty when Luca looked at me, ready to give her to me.
I held out my hand.
Luca took a step forward. “I’m giving you my daughter today. I hope you realize what kind of gift that is. Don’t make me regret this, or I’ll make you regret it.”
I inclined my head. I’d expected nothing less than a threat from Luca on this day, anything else would have been a huge disappointment.
When he finally handed her over to me and her warm palm touched mine, my sole focus turned to her.
“You’re missing a real crown,” I murmured. “Because you are a fucking queen, Snow White.”
She smiled. “One crown is enough and it’s the only one everyone’s paying attention to anyway.”
“Forget all of them, everything but us.”
She nodded and with linked hands we turned to the pastor.
When I said ‘I do’, I remembered Amo’s words about losing my freedom, but like before, I didn’t feel any less free. I was looking forward to a life at Marcella’s side.
Before we braved the congratulations, Marcella seemed lost, her gaze distant as we waited outside for the rest of the guests to file out of church.
I leaned down. “What are you thinking? You look miles away.”
“That I’m glad I was brave enough for our love.”
I cocked a brow. “Am I such a risky bet?”
“As if you don’t know it.”
I shrugged with a grin, squeezing her hand, loving the feel of my ring around her finger. My woman.
With her by my side, I’d be strong enough to ignore the fake congratulations and sugary-sweet-smiles of people who saw our bond as an affront to what they believed in. I’d spend the rest of my life pissing them off by flaunting our love in front of their faces. And maybe I’d kill one or two by accident. I was sure Matteo would help me dispose of the bodies.