Chapter 27
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ANASTASIA
Shock.
That must be the reason why water leaks from my eyes, marking their presence with the rich mascara that now clings to my cheeks.
The same white dress I coveted for its purity is now stained with my mom’s blood. My hands tremble as I reach up to brush away the tears, staring at the moisture that comes off on my thumb. I run my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting the saltiness which only brings forth memories of the last time I cried.
The hospital is so quiet. Something I’m thankful for.
Being a Romano means having a private ward so my mom gets the care she needs. Her surgery was completed over seven hours ago so now it’s just a waiting game until she wakes up.
Everyone tried to get me to leave to shower, or eat or sleep and one by one, they slowly retreated home to rest. Then there was just me.
The only person who didn’t was Enzo. He just sat beside me, silent and patient, even as I told him to go.
Because how can I leave when it feels like my fault?
I keep replaying the scene in my head — Enzo diving to the other side and me turning around only to find Calista and Jas frantically hovering over my mom.
It’s okay . She kept repeating.
Blood was seeping from her chest and she was telling me it would be okay. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I froze…until Calista screamed in my face to pull me out of it.
My driving test, exams, shooting practice, sparing…I’ve never failed under pressure.
Until it mattered.
“Mi amore,” Enzo grips my hand tight, his other guiding my face towards him. He looks at me like I’m glass, fragile enough to break and so clear he can see my every vulnerability on display by those stupid tears. I pull away from him, hating how weak I must look and fold my arms across my chest.
"Circondaci.” Surround us. Enzo commands and suddenly three of his men swarm us, their backs shielding us from the outside world. “Anastasia, it’s okay to be upset.”
I scoff, willing the tears to quit but they refuse. “Our wedding got shot up, eight people are dead — including three members of the board and my mother is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for her life so I don’t exactly need your permission to be upset.”
I know I’m acting like a bitch, and even though this isn’t his fault, I need someone to lash out at.
Those stupid tears continue to stream down my cheeks. I rub my palms over my cheeks, trying to soak up all the moisture but it’s no use. “Why the fuck won’t they stop?”
“Because,” Enzo says, gently pulling my hands down. “You’re human, mi amore. Unfortunately, tears are a byproduct of that. They’re not a symbol of weakness like you might think but they show you have the capacity to love and care and feel inside of here.” My stomach flutters as he rests his hand over my heart, slowly healing the fissures he once inflicted himself.
“We can’t afford to show that we care, Enzo. Look what happened. A room full of the people we love and cherish were attacked. This is why people like us can’t have vulnerabilities, it’s too easy for our enemies to exploit.”
After explaining to the police that we had no idea who would attack us — after all, it was a high target wedding — they ruled it as an act of terrorism. Our wedding is now everywhere in the media earning the fictional group their desired attention, whereas in reality, we’re still trying to figure out who would be stupid enough to start a war.
The obvious suspect would be whoever stole the product for shipping. It’s clear they were trying to disguise their actions as Miguel’s but since he’s still institutionalized, it’s safe to rule him out. Yet we have zero answers, which means zero plans for retribution.
Enzo pinches his lips together and nods slowly. “What would you have us do now?”
“Fight.” The answer was so clear. I wanted bullets and bombs and death. I want to feel the sin of their blood on my hands, welcoming the bloody mark it would stain on my soul.
“And how? We’re divided right now and that was their plan. They took out some of the members who support Lawrence, which as cruel as it sounds is a win for you. Now is the time to assert your authority over the board and appoint somebody that will support you instead. ”
I shake my head, battling between reason and desire. I want to slaughter them all but…fuck, I hate when he’s right.
“You look perfect, you know.” I scoff, knowing I look far from perfect. “It’s true,” He brushes aside my matted hair. “When I first saw you walking the aisle, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. As cliche as it sounds, you were like an angel crafted just for me.”
I almost snort. “I’m no angel.”
A smile plays on his lips. “Trust me, I know that. It’s why I was so surprised how a simple white dress could paint this perfect image of a saint within you but don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about the devil that lurks beneath.” I almost shudder from the heat of his breath as it hits my cheek. “I still have those scratch marks on my back from fucking you on that desk.”
Turning, I grip his jaw tight between my fingers. “Don’t you mean from me fucking you? Let’s not forget who was in charge that night.”
His hearty laughter echoes through my ears. “You said that night. Singular because you know how much you relish surrendering yourself to me. Body, mind and soul.” I shiver, hating how much I crave his touch even when I’m covered in blood and exhausted.
God what the fuck am I doing? Flirting when my mom is lying in a hospital bed ?
“We need to stop.” I tell him, quickly pulling away. His face falls and I hear him sigh, reaching out to grab my hand again.
“Stasia?” My dad calls out, causing the wall of guards to disperse. He looks like a bigger mess than me and yet somehow finds the strength to offer me a smile.
I stand up a little too quickly and Enzo grabs my arm as I stumble. “Is she awake?”
“And talking. I told her how our stubborn daughter has been here all night, refusing to leave. She wants to see you now.” I bite my lip to stop myself from crying again and step forward when he fixes Enzo with a look. “Both of you.”
We both hesitate, glancing at each other in confusion. He probably wants me to give me space to speak with her alone but there’s this twisted fear mingled with guilt festering inside of me.
It’s like a paradox, eating away at me and all I know is that I need him to help soothe it.
Taking his hand, I smile softly at the surprise in a warm gaze at the rare gesture and lead him into the hospital room. I take a deep breath before pushing the door open and still, it feels like I’ve being punched in the stomach.
Nothing can prepare you for seeing the woman who has epitomized strength your entire life, lying so vulnerable in a hospital bed. It’s a blunt reminder that we’re all just human, susceptible to death as easily as the next person, no matter how much power and influence we may wield in this world.
Dropping his hand, I rush over to her side and almost trip over the stupid train of my dress. “How do you feel?” I immediately regret the question, but she just chokes out a dry laugh.
“Like I’ve just been shot.”
Laughing softly, I wipe away the tears that start to fall again. “I’m sorry.” My voice cracks and my mom shakes her head, pulling me into a hug the best she can.
I cling onto her, unable to remember the last time I felt this extreme need to hug my mom. It seems to soothe all the aches and pain I feel inside of me, replacing the emptiness with this warmth I never wish to lose.
“It’s not your fault, Stasia. Your father and I knew the risks when we decided to live this life and honestly, I’m a little surprised I haven’t been shot already.”
“Kiara!” My dad chides and she pulls away, laughing.
“Relax babe, it just means I’m lucky.” She really is. Apparently, the bullet was half an inch to the right of being fatal. “Enzo,” My mom calls out, reaching for his hand and placing it over mine. “Now, I realized something in the split second I thought I was going to die. Life is too short. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a beautiful fulfilling life but I’m nowhere near done. I want to see my children fall in love, be happy, have kids if they want and get married. It’s still your wedding day Stasia and I don’t want you to delay it until I can get out of bed. So I know it’s not ideal but…”
La vie en rose by Edith Piaf suddenly floods the room. I glance back at my dad who smiles, setting his phone on the table before handing me a crumpled rose from his jacket. I can’t help but frown as he takes my other hand and leads me to the back of the room.
My mom drags Enzo closer, whispering something in his ear that makes him grin like an idiot. “Dad, tell me what I think is happening is not happening?”
He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to my sweaty temple. “A wedding doesn’t have to be perfect, Stasia. It can be messy and stupid but still a beautiful story to tell your grandkids. If you don’t want this though, we’ll all understand.”
I sigh heavily, looking forward at Enzo. He’s still smiling, his tux a crumpled mess with blood splattering all over his white shirt and his hair in a disarray. Yet he still looks like that beautiful boy I fell in love with.
It tugs on my heartstrings, filling me with ease in a way I didn’t feel as I walked down the aisle.
Maybe because it’s just us this time ?
We’re not in-front of hundreds, being judged and photographed with every step. This moment right here would only exist in our memories.
“Who would officiate?”
“Me.” He laughs at the look in my eyes. “I’m still ordained from Knox and Caitlin’s wedding.” Right, I forgot about that.
“And the witnesses?” I blurt out. “I mean mom counts as one but we need anot—” Before I can even finish my sentence, he’s ordering my mom’s doctor into the room.
“Just five minutes.” He mumbles to the disgruntled doctor who seemingly shuts up as my dad slips a few hundred-dollar bills into his scrubs. “So how about it, bunny? Any more excuses or are you ready to walk down the aisle?”
This whole thing is ridiculous. My dad walking me the five steps it takes to reach Enzo, and me in a bloody dress with a limp rose in my hand. A stranger as a witness, my mom in a hospital bed…
I meet Enzo’s steady gaze but find no answers. He’s giving this one to me, even though I know that this is enough for him.
My parents believe we’re in love, but we know the truth. Part of the wedding was to create a spectacle to make everyone else believe it too, otherwise we could have just signed the papers .
Then again, what says love more than getting married at quarter to midnight with bags under your eyes, stinking of sweat and blood in your hair?
Oh fuck it.
Taking my dad’s arm, he smiles and leads me forth. The beeping of my mom’s EKG disrupts the soft melody of the music, the light above flickers on and off and I can hear the blare of cars outside on the highway, yet I can’t stop smiling.
I let the rose drop onto the floor as I reach Enzo. He pulls me into his arms, a soft smile pulling on his lips. My dad stands before us, the doctor to the left and my mom on the right. “I’ll make this quick and simple. Do you, Enzo, take Anastasia to be your wife?”
There’s no hesitation as he says, “I do.”
“Do you promise to love and cherish her, vowing to never let any harm come to her?”
“I do.”
“Good.” My father adds. “Because if you don’t, know that I have three very hungry tigers in my basement who would just love to rip you apart.” We all laugh but the doctor watches on like we’re crazy.
“And do you Anastasia, take Enzo to be your husband?”
It’s terrifying how easy this choice is to make. “I do. ”
“Then by the power vested in me by Universal Life Church, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,”
A gasp tears itself from my throat as Enzo pulls me closer. His grip on my waist tightens, fisting the soft material of the dress and he lowers his head close to mine, letting his nose brush against mine.
“Watch it.” My dad’s voice slices through our bubble and my eyes instinctively flicker to my parents. My mom slaps his arm and forces him to turn away from us.
He tilts my chin back to face him, a smoldering desire beginning to burn in his rich gaze. “I’ve waited nine years to taste these lips, mi amore. Trust me, I don’t care who’s watching.”
I let my head tilt to the side, as I trace over the soft contours of his lips. “So this is what you imagined? Me in a blood-stained wedding dress and a two minute ceremony that barely passes as a legal marriage?”
“It wouldn’t be us unless it was messy.”
I laugh quietly, letting him move us into the corner of the room as the doctor leaves. “So are you going to kiss me then or—”
The wind is pummeled out of my chest as he delivers a brutal kiss onto my lips. My eyes blink open for a second, surprised at the familiarity that wisps around us in a frenzy. Sinking my hands into his hair, I pull at the silky strands, dragging him impossibly closer. Enzo nibbles at my bottom lip, trying to entice me to let him in. I smile against his lips, hearing his guttural growl as I keep them closed.
My back hits the wall as his fingers dance along my waist, conjuring a soft moan that parts my lips. He smiles, slipping his tongue into the deep chasm of my mouth. It’s so weird how a single kiss can be felt everywhere.
An invisible string pulling from my toes and pinging off every nerve that builds it way up to my mind. Our breaths become one, a steady unison I never want to lose hold of.
I cling onto him tighter, seeking that warped sense of security I feel as he holds me in his arms. “Don’t leave.” The words slip from my tongue and he pulls back. I whisper so quietly that we're the only people in existence that can hear them. “I can’t lose you again.”
No matter how much I wanted to deny it, this man has always fit into my life. When he left before, there was this piece of me that disappeared with him but now I can feel it slowly finding its way back to me again with his every touch and whispered confessions.
I don’t want to let that go .
He swallows my words with another kiss. I can feel the strength of his promise pouring out of it, seeping into my pores as our souls finally connect in the way our bodies easily can.