Unholy Vows: Chapter 20

“The Boy I’m Going to Marry” played over the speakers as I stepped into La Leonora. It was loud as hell and echoed around the beautiful building. The happy song contrasted sharply with the air of tension that hung over our small group. The music was the icing on the cake. Was Renato fucking with me?

Today, the casino was dressed up in the most opulent fashion. Apparently a De Sanctis wedding was not a discreet affair, and from the tank-like cars lined up on the strip and the groups of lethal-looking bodyguards swarming around, it seemed like the guest list boasted some of the most notorious kingpins on the East Coast.

Despite the general air of violence in the atmosphere, it was odd to realize that I felt safe. Surrounded by Renato De Sanctis’s guards, on his property, I was untouchable. It was a sharp contrast to the days before he’d taken us to Casa Nera when I’d been jumping at shadows and running from the Castillo cartel.

I entered the building with an entourage of guards, gripping Lucy’s hand in mine. Giada stood on her other side and every now and then reached out and squeezed her shoulder. A friendly reminder that a crossbow-wielding psychopath was her designated babysitter.

La Leonora had a chapel on site. I was appalled at the very thought of getting married in a church, considering what kind of wedding it was, but no one cared about my protests.

“Now, you have a couple of hours to transform into a beautiful sposa and turn that frown upside down. I don’t want wedding pics of a long-faced bride on the mantel,” Giada quipped, directing me and Lucy toward the bank of elevators.

We were flanked on all sides by Sonny, Vinny, and a few other men.

There was no escape.

We got ready in a penthouse apartment. Vito had a whole army of assistants running to follow his every barked instruction. Lucy sat in the window and stared down at the city. Sonny and Vinny laughed and joked, seeming jovial. Giada watched us all with hawklike cunning and alternated between slicing razor-thin slices of peach and sharpening her blood-red talons with a paring knife.

“Can someone turn the music off?” I asked, nearly lunging for a passing champagne flute.

I grabbed it and downed the contents. The fizz was pleasant, but there was no softening of my anxiety. I went searching for another one, being stealthy in case Giada was under instructions to make sure I didn’t get wasted before the ceremony.

She smirked at me. “Knock yourself out. It’s nonalcoholic. The groom doesn’t go for passive drunk compliance. That’s no fun.”

“You’re a monster, and so is your boss. Fucking lunatics, all of you,” I muttered, setting down the glass and turning to the mirror. Somehow, I’d been transformed. The dress had taken three people to put on me, and I had no idea how I’d go to the bathroom in it. Only the veil remained, hanging on a special stand. It was so long that even if I ran from the ceremony, the groom would have a long leash to catch me by.

I looked more beautiful than I’d ever known I could. My cheekbones stood out, and my eyes were huge. Even my lips were overlined and bigger than usual. I didn’t look like myself. Maybe after today, I’d never go back to the person I was before. Maybe the old me would die for good once I took the last name of a certified killer. I’d be reborn as someone else, someone I couldn’t recognize.

Lucy watched me in the mirror while the stylists cooed over the frothy concoction I was wearing. Her look of disdain morphed into flat-out disgust when her eyes reached my face. I flinched like she’d bitten me. She got up and kicked at the table next to her, sending glasses flying everywhere. She whirled around and headed toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind her so hard a picture fell off the wall and smashed on the floor. Sonny crossed himself like Lucy was possessed.

“I know she’s your little sis, but…do you want me to kill her for you?” Giada mused, inspecting her nails. “I’d make it quick, as a courtesy to you.”

I swallowed down the jagged shards of pain at seeing Lucy so upset and made my way toward the bedroom.

“She’s just upset. I’ll speak to her.”

“She needs more than speaking to, Charlie. She’s an ungrateful little brat, and she’s barely affected by all of this. She got you into this mess, and now you’re the one getting her out of it, and she can’t even be nice to you. That kid needs a kick in the head,” Giada muttered. “Volunteers for kicker position?”

She raised her hand, as did Sonny.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the bedroom door. Lucy was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s up?” I asked her, unsure how to tackle her stormy mood.

“What’s up? Just look in the mirror and answer your own question.” Lucy’s voice was hard, full of vitriol. “You actually seem happy, you know that? It’s pathetic.”

“Happy? I’m not happy,” I disagreed.

“Are you sure? You looked it earlier. Don’t you understand that none of this is real? Renato is probably laughing at you behind your back.”

“What the hell have I done to you to deserve this attack?” I demanded, my patience snapping.

“What have you done? You’ve changed sides, by the looks of things.”

“Changed sides? I’m marrying Renato to keep you safe.”

“Maybe it started that way, but now, I think you just want to.” Lucy swung herself up from the bed and glared at me. “Admit it. You like living in his luxurious prison and not having to go to work, just sitting around, eating food that a chef cooks for you.” She folded her arms and raised her chin at me. “I bet you even like the big bad mafia boss backing you into corners and kissing you. You like him, don’t you?” Lucy’s lip curled even more. “Don’t lie to me, I already saw you two.”

“You saw us?” I repeated, shame flushing down my body in a great, hot wave.

“Yeah, I saw you. Some captive you make. It took you what? Less than a week to become a desperate housewife for your captor?”

“A desperate housewife?” A laugh left me before I could stop it. And then another. Drowning out my urge to cry, bitter laughter surged out. It came so hard it bent me over.

“What’s wrong with you? Did you finally just lose it?” Lucy watched me warily.

“Maybe I did,” I gasped. This dress didn’t offer much room for laughing your ass off. “Maybe I really did.” I sobered, the shame inside me morphing into something else.

Anger.

No, not just anger.

White-hot fury.

“Maybe it really is crazy to be relieved that there’s a solution to all of this, one that lets us both live. Maybe it’s crazy to feel relieved at not having to worry about money for once, or having a hot meal that you didn’t have to make yourself.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes at me. “So much for your high-and-mighty morals and being a good person, right? Do you realize you’re feeling grateful to the man who put us in this position? Pathetic.”

I scoffed and walked closer. “Let’s be clear. You are the one who put us in this position. You and your boyfriend. Renato De Sanctis didn’t ask you to break into his warehouse and try to steal his drugs. He also never asked his two goons to shoot Miguel, in fact, he punished them immediately for going against his wishes, right in front of me. You put us in this situation. You.” I stopped in front of her. “How dare you judge me?” I took in Lucy’s ugly sneer and red-rimmed eyes. I couldn’t understand her. My emotional bandwidth had shrunk in the last few days. I had used it all up with my own worries.

“Guilt.”

Renato stood in the doorway of the bedroom. I hadn’t heard him enter.

He stole my breath away. He was in a tux. Midnight couture hugged his built body, perfectly designed to fit his proportions. He wore it flawlessly, a man used to luxury. He stepped into the room, and his eyes fixed on me.

“She feels guilty for getting you into this situation and is lashing out, trying to push you away while at the same time seeking a sliver of hope that maybe this forced marriage isn’t as bad as it seems for you. Isn’t that right, Lucy?”

One glance at Lucy’s face confirmed Renato’s words. Her sullen expression shifted guiltily.

“What your sister doesn’t understand yet, is that all she did was introduce us. The rest of what we are and what we will be, is between us.”

Renato had crossed the room and now put his hand on the small of my back. It warmed me in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely. My anger ebbed in the face of his calm. His effortless dominance relaxed me somehow, and I let go of my aggression toward my sister. He was right, wasn’t he?

I turned and stared up at the man who had stormed into my life and tipped everything on its head. I never felt judged by this man. I never felt shame in his hands. Around Renato, I never felt anything bad about myself. Was it so wrong to like that?

It’s all fun and games until he finds out you’ve betrayed him and decides to cancel the deal.

My sister obviously felt guilty and was lashing out, but wasn’t there truth to her words, too? Maybe that’s what hurt the most.

“I’m going to speak to your sister now,” Renato said to Lucy, leading us out into the living room of the suite.

The room still teemed with Vito and his assistants. “Leave us,” Renato instructed quietly, but his words held power.

Suddenly, the suite was emptying, with Giada escorting Lucy out. I stood in front of the wall of windows, the bright sun of the early winter day shining its pure-white brilliance on me. Renato looked down at me in the morning light and frowned.

“Who did the makeup?” His words were like a whip.

Vito stopped just short of disappearing out the door. “My daughter, Elena.”

“Send her back in ten minutes,” Renato instructed, and with a regal jerk of his head, dismissed Vito.

The door clicked shut, and we were alone. I hadn’t seen Renato since last night, when I’d come in his arms, mercilessly pushed over the edge by his wicked tongue. My entire being flushed hot when I thought of it.

“What are you going to do that’s going to ruin my makeup?” I wondered curiously. I never could tell with him. My mind went immediately to the gutter.

He raised an eyebrow. “While I like where your mind is headed, you don’t seem like yourself with all that makeup on.” He approached me, grabbing a plastic packet of wet wipes as he passed the vanity table. He pulled one free and offered it to me. “I want to see your face. The real one.”

I huffed. “Why do you care? Surely, I should feel beautiful on my wedding day, sham or not.”

“You’re more beautiful without it. I want you to look like you.”

I took the wet wipe, denying the feeling in my chest his words had evoked. My skin was already starting to itch, and the makeup felt like a heavy mask. I couldn’t imagine wearing it all day long, under bright lights.

I rubbed at my cheek with the wet wipe, and about three pounds of makeup lifted off. I suddenly grew self-conscious about how I’d look with a partially made-up face and set to wiping off the rest. Renato waited patiently, even handing me fresh wipes and getting rid of the used ones.

Finally, he set down the packet and nodded. “Much better.”

“So, you came here just to make me wash my face?”

“I came here to give you this,” he corrected and produced a black velvet box from his tux pocket.

He handed it to me, and I opened it carefully, my jaw dropping. Inside sat a dazzling ruby necklace, the huge red stones surrounded by diamonds. Matching earrings sat above it.

“They were my nonna’s and have been in the family for generations.”

“Wow,” I touched the stones, marveling at the twinkle. “You’ve always been rich, then?”

Renato’s mouth pulled to the side in a half-grin, and then he was lifting the jewels out of the box. “Think of them as a wedding gift.”

I’d never seen such beautiful jewelry, even at the fancy galas I’d served at La Leonora.

“My nonno was a powerful man. He wasn’t born into it. He made the first steps toward De Sanctis power in Napoli. Back then, the man who ruled the city was called Stromboli. The story goes that my nonno saw Stromboli’s daughter one day while she was walking in the garden of their home. He was the driver. He was twenty-five, and she was eighteen. He fell in love at first glance.

Ten years later, when her father died, he named my nonno his successor, despite the fact that he had three sons. No one knows what passed between the dying man and the man who was his chauffeur, but within a week, my nonno had married Stromboli’s daughter and seized power. As he grew in power, they say he became more and more paranoid about his bride’s safety. He lavished her with gifts and built her a house that only a queen could dream of, but he didn’t let her outside.”

“Sounds like your kind of relationship.”

Renato smiled, but it was sad somehow. “My father was of the same mentality as my nonno. A gilded cage for flightless birds. Turn around.”

I complied slowly, hyperaware of his hot breath on the back of my neck. His hands circled around me, fitting the necklace into place.

“Why would you give these to me? Am I doomed to repeat your nonna’s fate?” He fastened the clasp, and the silver felt cold against my skin.

“She never wore them. She had nowhere to go. It was her silent protest at how her life turned out. She accepted the gifts but never wore a single one.”

I didn’t know what to say in this unexpectedly intimate moment. I had nothing to reciprocate his family secrets with. My mother died giving birth to Lucy, and with every day that passed, I remembered her less and less.

“I’m giving these to you because I’ve never met anyone else I’d rather give them to,” he murmured. “And I want you to wear them, little nurse, and not just today.”

His touch made my skin burn. How could my body behave like this? Soaking up even the slightest brush of this man’s fingers like they were water in a desert? Did he mean he wouldn’t keep me locked up a luxurious cage, like his grandfather had done to his grandmother?

“They suit you. Priceless jewels for a one-of-a-kind woman.”

His thumb stroked up the nape of my neck, sending tingles out in waves across my shoulders. We could both feel it. The tension between us was like nothing I’d ever felt before. My body was attuned to his. I could tell where he was with my eyes shut. It was like my body lit up when he was near and faded into darkness when he was gone.

And I was spying on him.

“Are you sure we have to do this?” The question left me before I could stop it. The thought of the bug, sitting right now in the potted plant in Renato’s office, kept playing on my mind. Not because betraying him was undeserved, but because I was sure it wouldn’t turn out well for me or Lucy. We were just collateral damage in a game being played between giants.

“I’m sure. Today, you will be my wife. And if someone should try to take you from me?” he added. “No one could stop me from taking you back. Not the cops, not a guardian angel with a flaming sword, not even the Pearly Gates themselves could stop me. Remember that.”

Not the cops? Fear doused me at his words. Was he talking generally, or did he already know? I didn’t dare meet his eyes for fear of what I’d see.

“I’ll let you handle the earrings,” he suggested, stepping away.

I swallowed past the dry hunk of awkwardness lodged in my throat and simply nodded.

A knock sounded at the door, and Elena, the makeup artist, entered.

“Keep her natural. I want her to look like herself,” Renato snapped to the girl before striding toward the doorway.

“But the photographs…” Elena started.

“Will be perfect.”

I turned around just in time to see him disappear without a backward glance.

I peered down at the ring on my finger, marveling at the weight of it.

The ceremony had passed in a blur, and now the reception was speeding by, bringing us closer and closer to the wedding night. I felt so nervous I could throw up.

Was it nerves or excitement?

Ignoring the traitorous voice in my head, I glanced around the huge ballroom where the reception was being held. It was so full of flowers and glittering lights, it hurt to look at. Stares followed my every move. Questions were whispered in my wake.

Who is she?

Why her?

Renato was off half the time, speaking to dangerous-looking men with armed guards. Giada and Lucy sat with me.

“How did all these people come at such short notice?”

“When Renato De Sanctis invites you to a wedding, you come. It doesn’t matter if you have to fly back to the country to come. The only people who are off the hook for being out of the country are his sister and her family. They get the blood pass. Everyone else? It would be the ultimate disrespect not to show.”

I pulled a face, and Giada laughed. “Let me guess, you’re the kind of person who never throws a party in case people don’t come?”

Ding, ding, ding.

I glared at her, and she laughed again.

“Look on the bright side – from now on, they’d better come, or they’ll have to deal with your husband.”

Lucy had fallen into a sulky silence. She was dressed in black, as were half the guests, but my sister had decided to dress hers up with Doc Martens and ripped fishnets. If there was a poster child for teen rebellion, it was Lucy right now. She was tracing patterns in spilled sugar on the tablecloth when she sat upright and waved at someone.

“You know someone here?” I exclaimed. That was more than I could say. I’d been passing the time by sitting and staring out at the crowd, and my hands, and the flashy-as-hell ring on my finger. It matched the necklace and earrings perfectly. His grandmother’s jewels. It felt odd to wear them, and I had no idea why he trusted me with them. Considering our dynamic, I was more likely to head to the bathroom and toss them down the toilet than cherish them. Even as I thought it, I knew I would never do it.

Maybe he knew me better than I liked to think he did.

“It’s Quinn,” Lucy said and waved again. “From this summer. Lifeguarding.”

Ah, yes, the first and only job that Lucy had ever held down was this summer at the beach.

A slight red-haired girl about the same age as Lucy came rushing over. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here!” The girl smiled at my younger sister and held her arms open for a hug. To my shock, my prickly sister hugged her back.

“I kind of had to come…it’s my sister’s wedding.” Lucy laughed and introduced us. “Quinn, this is my sister, Charlie.”

A low whistle filled the air, setting my nerves on high alert. Someone appeared behind Quinn and draped an arm over her shoulders. Someone tall, broad, tattooed to hell, and with trouble written all over him. He wore a black jacket and white shirt, and his tie was hanging loosely around his open collar. His green eyes flashed at me as he held out a hand.

“I never thought I’d see the day Ren took a wife, and I definitely never expected it to be someone so young and lovely. I’m Brandon O’Connor, but you can call me Bran.” He leaned in, a charming smile stretched across his handsome face. “Just blink twice if you need rescuing, beautiful.”

“Yes, Charlie, blink twice if you want to be whisked away to Hell’s Kitchen to live with the Irish Mafia instead of Italian.” Giada’s sweet tone was venomous.

Bran leaned away from me and turned to look at the curvy Italian spitfire sitting just behind me. Giada tossed her hair and waved her red-tipped talons. “If you want to rescue someone, Irish, try taking someone who won’t bring a war down on your house.”

Bran’s eyes fixed on Giada, and he grinned wickedly. “Like you, sweet cheeks?”

Giada laughed. “You’d never survive me.”

“Sounds like a fun way to go, though, I have to say,” Bran said. The look he was giving Giada made me feel like I was an intruder.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced, beautiful. I’m Bran.” He held out a tatted hand to her. “And you are?”

She smirked in his direction, flipping her knife between her fingers. “Out of your league,” she finished for him.

His grin said that he was hardly deterred by her put-downs.

I cleared my throat to break the tension.“I’m just going to visit the ladies’ room.”

“You want me to hold your dress up for you again?” Giada asked lazily, focused once more on her little knife that she liked to carry.

“No!” I flushed and stood, turning and nearly falling when my body collided with Renato’s. His eyes were fixed on Bran and Quinn.

“Congratulations, Ren. I have to say, when Niko said you were getting married, I just couldn’t picture it, but here she is, and she’s lovely. Far too lovely for you,” Bran’s voice purred over the compliment.

Renato took my hand in his, failing to rise to the bait. “Isn’t she? If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to dance with my wife,” he simply said and swept me out to the dance floor.

The band paused whatever they’d been playing and struck up a waltz as soon as we reached the middle of the dance floor.

“I don’t know how to dance like this,” I worried as Renato pulled me toward him.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll lead, and you follow, just like in life,” he said and smirked when I glared at him. “Ah, there she is. I’ve missed this angry look all day.”

“Meaning?”

He turned me with ease, and I found he was right. I didn’t need to do much but go the way he guided me.

“Meaning, you show me a part of yourself you don’t show many others.” He spun me under his arm, and I nearly tripped on my long gown. His hands were there, falling to my waist and keeping me from tripping. “I like it.”

“What can I say? I guess you just bring out the worst in me,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

“It’s a talent,” he agreed, making me smile with his easy acceptance of my accusation.

We danced on, and the feeling of hundreds of eyes watching me lingered. Everyone watching, judging, wondering what the hell had happened between us that had brought us here.

“What’s the matter?” Renato asked, reading my change in mood.

“I hate being the center of attention. Today is my nightmare, everyone watching us.”

“I thought it was a nightmare because you’re marrying me?”

I blinked up at him and his self-satisfied smirk. “You’re still at the top of the list, don’t worry.”

We danced on in silence for a while, and I gradually became aware of how the heat of his hands on my back made me shiver. The smell of him, and the way I missed it as soon as he pulled back, haunted me. It was all too much. It was just enough. It was more than I’d ever expected from life. It was everything I’d hoped would never happen to me. Thoughts of the cops andLucyfell away for just a moment, and I was just a woman who’d married a man who turned her heart inside out and had no idea what that meant. I feared him and I wanted him in equal measure.

Most of all, standing there under the intimate lights, dancing in this man’s arms, it felt like fate had finally caught up with me. It was all inevitable, really.

That shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was.