When the third ring echoes through the whispers in the ceremony hall, I feel my legs go numb for a moment-before I force myself to
straighten my shoulders and tighten my grip on Giovanni’s elbow. I can’t let Raul see any weakness or hesitance in my eyes, so I push it all back and stand up confidently, looking at the door.
“Hey, by the way,” Giovanni says all of a sudden as the door opens, allowing the live music to wrap around me. I glance at him with a quirked
eyebrow. What now? “You look beautiful today.”
Oh. I blink in surprise before a traitorous smile creeps into the corner of my lips. But before I can say anything, Giovanni looks at the altar and moves forward. All I can do is squeeze his elbow and follow him under the gaze of the most powerful Mafia families in Chicago.
From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Jacinta and Paolo with little Luna on his lap, Sasha and Louis with Misha restlessly fidgeting between them, Matteo, Liss, Romeo, Olga… Everyone is here, and I feel the pressure of their attention on my tense shoulders and straight back as I look at the man waiting for me at the altar.
Raul Jose de Lugo stands there with a slight smirk in the corner of his lips and his gray eyes set on me. What is he thinking about? Can he see through my facade? I feel my guts tighten under his piercing gaze a wave of heat spreading through my body, but I force myself to stay cool and collected even after Giovanni leaves me with a last smile and a squeeze on my wrist.
God, why is my heart so loud and frantic? Can everyone else hear it as well?
I swallow as I take the last step to the altar and stop in front of Raul, looking up at him. The look in his eyes is indifferent, but I can see his gaze dart over my features-and something flicks in the depths of his eyes. Is it interest? Desire? Rejection? I take a slow breath and look at the officiant. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t even care about that because it changes nothing.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the officiant raises his voice, looking at the guests with a slightly unnerved look-I’m pretty sure he’s aware that he’s surrounded by Mafia leaders here. “Family and friends, on this beautiful day, we have gathered here to celebrate the sacred union of love between Raul Jose de Lugo and Isabella Messina…”
The sacred union of love? I can barely stop myself from scoffing as I look away from the guy. I’m sure it’s some kind of a work-for-all script, but come on. Can’t he read the room?
Everyone else seems to be completely fine with it, especially Raul who doesn’t even react to the phrasing or anything that follows. The promise to care and love each other, the pre-written vows, the sacramental I do’s-nothing seems to affect him. His smirk remains the same, cold and almost mocking, and there’s not even a glint of feelings when he finally puts the wedding ring on my finger.
God, how many times has he been married? Is this just a regular day for him? I can’t help the heat of frustration swirling in my chest in response to his indifference. Be annoyed, be interested, give me something! But
Raul’s gray eyes look at me with disinterest that, quite frankly, starts to piss me off.
Is he too fucking cool to be affected by the ceremony that is about to change our lives forever?
I purse my lips, clutching Raul’s fingers and glaring at him, when my ears catch the officiant say, “Now, you may kiss the bride.”
Ha. I quirk an eyebrow, raising my chin. Let’s see how cold you will be after that.
Whether Raul can see the fire in my eyes or not, he doesn’t pause before placing his hand on my waist and leaning to press a kiss to my lips. It’s just as cold as the rest of him, a dry pressure of skin to skin-but before he can pull back, I part my lips and raise on my tiptoes, pushing closer.
I can feel him go still in surprise, and the satisfaction of it runs under my skin with a shiver. Yes, yes, I can force him to take off this stupid mask of indifference! High on the feeling, I raise my hand to his neck, holding him close, swipe my tongue against his lip-and Raul’s grip on my waist tightens. There you go.
I smile, unable to contain it, when I feel Raul kiss me back with passion, finally something genuine tearing through the walls of his heart.
And it sends a hot wave through my body, everything inside of me tightening from the pure strength of his presence. God, I wish I could feel it closer, I wish I could feel his weight on me, his hands on my body, and-
I blink my eyes open and freeze for a moment before pulling back from the kiss. No, no, that was not my plan. I’m not-I don’t want him like that!
My head spins, the applause rings in my ears, and I need a moment to catch my breath. Raul seems to be frozen too, and when I look up at him I see surprise in his eyes, and also… I swallow as my gaze lingers on the darkness of his eyes. Desire, if not pure hunger, is reflected in his gaze, and I feel something in me tighten-
But no. No! I blink out of it and look away to the crowd of guests, still holding on to Raul’s hand. There’s no damn way I’m gonna sleep with him.
My thoughts are still a mess when Raul starts walking down the stairs, and I force myself to catch up with him. My gaze catches Giovanni and Alina in the crowd, a look of surprise shared on their faces as they glance at each other. Shit. I feel like I’ve messed up, but I don’t know exactly how.
“Ruben will take you to our house.”
Raul’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up only to realize that we have already left the ceremony hall. The Messinas, the Pushkov, and the De Lugos are all behind us, talking, laughing, and inviting each other for dinner. I look at the familiar faces, but right now I don’t feel like talking to anyone, even Giovanni.
My mind is still hazy from the rush of sensations that hit me at the altar, and the warmth of Raul’s closeness doesn’t help me to get over it.
Perhaps it would be better for us to retreat, and then… I feel my throat tighten. God, I have no idea what will happen next, but for some reason I feel anticipation smoldering in the pit of my stomach.
“Alright,” I say, surprising myself with the steady voice of obedience, and with a quick glance at Raul, I get into the car. Ruben takes the driver’s seat-but before I know it, Raul turns away from the car while the rumble of the engine makes me blink.
“Is he not coming with us?” I ask out loud when the car starts moving, and Ruben shakes his head without looking at me.
“Senor will join you later.”
Later? I purse my lips and lean on the back of the seat, crossing my arms. Okay, then. Let’s see what’ll happen later. But by the time we reach the house that Raul has apparently bought for us, I feel a sour feeling
spreading in my chest.
The lights in the house are off, only a dim lamp illuminating the door, and I see no cars following us. When is that later gonna happen,
exactly? Because I think Raul and I need to talk about our next steps: how we’re gonna defeat the Escarras, how he plans to introduce me to his men, how we’re going to live together and share the rooms. I mean, it’s an important thing to discuss, okay?
“Are you sure he’ll be here?” I turn to look at Ruben who lingers by the driver’s door, and he nods.
“Yes, senora. Good night.”
With that, he drives away, leaving me on my own with an empty house and a hollow feeling in my chest. Well, whatever. The winter air is quite cold, and I’m not gonna wait outside forever, so I bite back the feeling and walk to the door, holding the skirt of my wedding dress up. Perhaps I can drink something while Raul is on his way.
From the inside, the house looks quite nice, although it’s clear that no one has lived here for a while. The furniture is new and probably delivered yesterday, the floor is polished, and the kitchen is so clean it looks sterilized. It feels as if I just entered IKEA and at any moment an assistant is gonna pop up and ask me if I need any help.
Yeah, can you get me out of here?
I huff at my own thoughts, and the sound falls flat in the silence of the house. Amazing. And I’m supposed to be here on my own, waiting for my goddamn husband to come back? I purse my lips and look around, feeling the anticipation shift into anger. God, what an asshole.
I spot a bottle of wine on the kitchen counter, two glasses, and a fruit bowl. It looks like a good way to kill time, so with all my glamorous attire, I climb on a kitchen stool and pour myself a glass of wine. If anything, I can let myself enjoy this.
But the longer I sit here, surrounded by the eerie silence of a dark house, the more stupid and angry I feel. Raul’s not gonna come, is he? I take a big gulp of wine, placing the glass on the counter with a clink. He has other, more interesting places to be. Maybe he doesn’t even plan to live here with me. I mean, it’s all just a fake performance, right?
But for some reason, I feel bitter as I get up from the stool and throw a last glance at the darkness outside. Damn it. Let him be wherever he wants, I don’t care. But as I storm to the second floor, looking for my bedroom, I feel something squeezing my lungs, a burn of angry fire rising up my throat.
I don’t care, okay? I don’t care. But I know one thing that I repeat to myself as I swing the bedroom door shut behind me and tear the dress off my shoulders.
If Raul is so cool, if he’s so damn busy and disinterested, fine.
Whatever. But if he tries to touch me again, I’m going to kick his ass-and let’s see how he likes that.