Chapter 105

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 105 After I showered and did my hair, I got dressed.

Of all the decisions I made that morning, you would think the one to go crash a mafia wedding would be the hardest.

But no –

I agonized over the dress.

When Valentino saw me, I wanted to look as beautiful as possible.

I kept going back and forth between a blue one and a white one –

Until I realized, I can’t wear white!

I don’t want to upstage the bride on her wedding day.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I burst out laughing hysterically.

But I still went with the blue.

I got to the chapel a quarter before 11.

I’d been planning on earlier, but I’d stalled and procrastinated...

Mostly because I knew this was the most insane thing I’d ever done in my life.

I think part of me was hoping everybody would already be there and it would be impossible to go forward with my plan.

I watched the chapel like a hawk the entire time I approached it –

But no one was there.

No flower vans, no cars, nothing.

If there had been anyone there, I would have backed out.

But the chapel was deserted...

So I kept going.

When I opened the door and walked inside, I glanced around and winced.

I’d fucked Valentino there, standing up...

And there against the wall...

And there on the floor.

Not that the memories were bad.

Far from it. In fact, they were incredibly hot.

But considering where we’d done it, I was mortified.

I checked the confession box where I was planning to hide.

Nothing inside but a wooden seat and a threadbare velvet cushion.

I had a little time, so I figured I better cover all my bases and apologize.

I went to the front of the church, stood beside the table full of prayer candles, and looked up at the stained glass window.

Jesus’s face was raised in agony to the sky. The Virgin Mary looked equally in pain.

It felt like they were averting their eyes from the horrible sinner.

“I am so sorry about yesterday,” I whispered. “Please forgive me.”

I crossed myself and started for the confessional –

Then turned back and whispered, “And if you could, please help me pull this off. Amen.”

Suddenly, I heard voices outside: two men calling to one another.

“There’s nobody out here.”

“Check inside anyway.”

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.

THEY’RE EARLY!

But I hadn’t heard any cars –

And the wedding wasn’t supposed to be until noon!

“Shit!” I hissed, then glanced back over at my shoulder at Jesus and Mary and whispered, “Sorry!”

Then I started tiptoeing as fast as I could for the confession box.

One of the men’s voices suddenly called out in alarm, “Hey – the door’s open!”

SHIT!

There was no way I was going to make it to the confessional in time.

And even if I could, this was a mafia wedding. They were going to check every possible hiding spot for assassins.

You IDIOT!

It would serve me right to get killed in a church I’d desecrated.

I looked around wildly.

Think, Cat, THINK –

And then I saw the answer to my prayers:

A place to say prayers.

I hustled back to the table full of candles and found a tiny box of matches.

I fumbled it open. My hand was trembling as I struck a match and lit a candle.

I heard the squeak of floorboards far behind me –

Then a man yelled, “Hey you – turn around! Slowly!”

I looked over my shoulder –

And screamed.

A tall man in a black suit and tie stood 50 feet away with a pistol aimed at me.

When I freaked out, he must have realized I wasn’t a danger, because he lowered the gun.

“What are you doing here?!” he yelled at me.

“What am I doing here?!” I yelled back. “What are you doing in here with a gun?!”

Of course, I knew exactly what he was doing:

Making sure the church was safe for a mafia wedding.

He put his pistol in a holster under his jacket and walked up to me. “You can’t be in here.”

“I’m saying prayers for my mother who died last week!” I wailed at him. “And you come into a house of God with a gun, telling me I can’t be here?!”

“Keep it down,” he said gruffly.

A much shorter man appeared as a silhouette in the doorway.

He had his gun out, too –

Which made me scream again.

“What the fuck?!” the short guy shouted.

“It’s just some woman saying prayers,” the tall man answered.

“Well, get her the fuck out!”

“What are you doing in here with guns – and cursing?!” I yelled.

You hypocrite, I thought.

You were doing a LOT worse in here yesterday.

But I still kept going. “This is a place of worship! This is a – ”

“Get the fuck outta here, lady!” the short man yelled – but he holstered his gun, too.

“I’m saying prayers for my mother!” I said, my voice on the edge of tears – which was easy to do, considering how terrified I was.

“She died – ”

“Last week, I heard,” the tall guy said. “You still have to leave.”

“But I don’t know if she died in a state of grace! She had cancer, but the priest got there too late for Last Rites! I don’t know if she – ”

“All right, all right,” the tall guy said wearily. “Say your prayers and get out.”

“What the fuck, man?!” the short guy shouted.

“Go check the confessional!” the tall man yelled back at him. “And stop cursing – it’s a church.”

“It’s a fuckin’ chapel,” the short guy said contemptuously.

“A chapel’s still a church. Now check it.”

The short guy muttered curses under his breath as he walked over to the confession booth and opened both doors – first the one for the priest, then the one.

Thank God I didn’t hide in there.

“Empty,” the short guy announced, then said to his partner, “Go check in the back.”

As I lit another match and a couple of candles, the tall guy went to the back of the chapel and poked around.

Once he was satisfied no killers were hiding in wait, he walked over and pointed a finger at me.

“You got ten minutes. Say your prayers and get out.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully.

I listened as they walked outside bickering.

“Why the fuck did you let her stay?”

“She’s just saying prayers. What’s the harm?”

“The harm is the boss’ll have your fuckin’ balls if she ain’t gone by the time he shows up!”

“She’s just a broad sayin’ prayers. She ain’t no threat.”

Once their voices faded away, I tiptoed over to the confessional booth and hid inside.

Please, Mother Mary...

I know I don’t deserve your help after what I did in here yesterday...

But please, PLEASE don’t let them find me.