Chapter 27
Maximo
“I’m happy to see this day, my son. I hope this woman makes you very happy now that you’ll finally have her as your wife.
” My father claps me on the back before taking his seat in the front row beside Mama and my two brothers, Romeo and Santo.
Romeo gives me a curt nod, while Santo waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
I ignore them both. At the best of times they’re both a distraction in their own way. I don’t have time for that today.
I swallow down the thickness in my throat.
Papa knows all about my yearning for Elena, he understands the significance of today, my wedding day.
Above and beyond solidifying my new position here in America, and more than the sanctity of this event in the eyes of man and God, but that taking Elena as my wife will complete me.
She’s my other half. I’ve felt it in my soul for years.
I want her.
I need her.
We belong together for all of eternity. Today is our first step in a new life.
Elena pads down the stairs, auburn hair disheveled, still in her nightgown as if she’s just woken up. As soon as she sees me, she comes to an abrupt halt. “I-I didn’t know you’d be stopping by today.”
I keep my gaze glued to her face, resisting the deepest temptation to let it fall lower. She’s back lit, and I don’t think she realizes that every curve of her body shows right through that thin fabric. She looks like a fucking goddess. One I’d gladly consider worshiping for a night.
“Excuse me.” She slips past me into the living room.
“Is that Maximo?” Aunt Antonia calls out. “Let’s go sit in the sun.”
I follow Elena, finding her helping Antonia to her feet. The woman has a nurse, yet she often seems to dismiss her in favor of having Elena’s assistance.
The fragile, ancient woman shakes so much I’m afraid she’s going to collapse any moment. Elena reaches for the cane as Antonia uses her for temporary support. Her fingers brush against it just enough that the walking stick falls over.
I spur into action, grabbing the cane from the floor, and hand it to Elena. Our fingers touch and a spark zaps us both. Startled, we pull away.
I watch Elena situate Antonia with her walking stick and help her through the house to the courtyard out back. She’s so attentive and aware. Yet she doesn’t coddle Antonia, because everyone knows our aunt’s still a free, independent spirit even in her aging body.
Once we get outside, the warm Italian sun beaming down on us, Elena holds Antonia’s hand as she sinks into a chair.
It’s such a simple thing, helping move Aunt Antonia from one seat to another. But the care with which Elena does it warms my heart. When my mama’s an old woman, I want someone to show her this much kindness. To want to help her, not just feel obligated to do so.
I sit across from the old auntie, but my gaze lingers on Elena, seeing her not so much as a frightened girl, but as a woman with a big heart. A giving soul. She’ll make some man very happy one day.
My heart hammers against my ribcage as the music begins to play and a hush falls over those gathered. Hundreds of powerful and influential people sit in the audience, but as soon as Elena walks through those doors, every one of them fades away. I only have eyes for her.
My breath catches. My pulse stammers.
She’s so fucking beautiful, gazing at her tears at my soul.
Then the reality of what we’re doing in church today crashes in like a wrecking ball. She’s about to become mine. And I’ll be hers. Forever.
I’ve prayed to God for this moment, for years, and now it’s finally happening.
Elena Pontrelli will be mine to have and to hold, until death do us part. I clear my throat to keep my emotions in check.
Our gazes find one another’s, like magnets.
Today she’s not wearing her signature pink-framed glasses.
Somehow she manages to look both more mature and younger without them.
Vulnerable. Innocent. Does she wear them as more than just a fashion statement, but as a shield against the world?
Today there’s no hiding from me, cara mia.
As she slowly walks toward me, on her own without escort, my chest tightens with anticipation. I can barely breathe as she approaches. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
Then there’s a flicker in her soft grey eyes. Uncertainty.
Her perfectly schooled expression cracks with the slightest line between her brows.
She halts halfway down the aisle.
A gasp sweeps through the crowd.
My pulse rate doubles as I search her features for clues to her thoughts, her intentions. I find my answer in her gorgeous, haunted eyes.
No, no, no.
That uncertainty morphs into a deeper doubt before it becomes panic. I’m right there with her, anxiety pumps through my veins as I witness the moment my world falls to pieces. Crumbling right before my eyes.
“No!” I say right as she turns and sprints toward the exit. “Elena!”
This isn’t fucking happening.
She’s not getting away. Not now, not ever.
I give chase, but she has a good head start.
I sprint after her, ignoring our startled wedding guests.
She barrels through the front door and down the steps to the street, white veil flying behind her, and dives into a cab that’s ready and waiting for our wedding guests to depart after the ceremony.
Maledizione!
I reach for her door and pull—it’s locked—then the cab pulls into traffic. Cazzo! I can’t let her go. The need to catch her is so visceral I can hardly draw in a breath. Glancing around, I grab the next cab in line.
“Follow her!” I gesture to the yellow and black vehicle in front of us. “Step on it and I promise to make it worth your while.”
“You got it.”
We weave in and out of traffic, horns blaring, drivers shouting. All of it’s background noise. The only thing I care about is catching up with Elena for two reasons. One, it isn’t safe for her out here on her own. We have enemies who might twist this situation to their advantage.
Two, she’s mine. My fiancée, my love—the one and only woman who’s supposed to become my wife.
The car gains some speed as we venture closer to the river. Narrow one-way streets weave under overpasses until we reach a dead end.
In front of us, the taxi comes to a screeching halt and Elena bails out. She bolts toward the marina. Does she have a boat waiting? How long has she been planning her escape? Damn, I should have seen this coming.
Tossing a few hundred dollar bills on the seat, I go after her. “Elena, stop!”
Veil and white dress flying behind her, she doesn’t slow down until she has nowhere left to go.
She reaches the end of the pier, teetering far too close to the edge, and I slow to a walk. I don't want to frighten her, or tempt her to jump. This is it—the end of the line.
Realizing that, she spins around, facing me. Tears stream down her cheeks as she collapses in a cloud of cream-colored silk.
My chest clenches at her distress. Then, I’m there, surrounding her, holding her as she sobs against my chest. “Shh, bella, I have you. Everything will be okay.”
“No it won’t. Nothing will ever be okay again.”
I swallow hard. “Do you really hate me this much? That you’d rather contemplate jumping into the Hudson than being my wife?”
She sighs. “I don’t hate you.”
“Then why? Why run?”
Agony colors her beautiful, tear-stained face, mascara running down her cheeks.
“Because if I marry you then I’m stuck here in this life.
It’s only a matter of time before someone takes me again—locks me up, tortures and kills me.
We were lucky with those assassins, but that’s all it was, dumb luck.
That night could have gone terribly wrong.
They’ll be back. One day, when we think we’re safe, they or someone just like them will come back and destroy us.
I can’t live the rest of my life in fear of that day. ”
I let her words—her greatest fears—sink in as I hold her close.
Denial and reassurance are on the tip of my tongue, but my denial of her fears would be self-serving, and my reassurances hollow.
Elena’s right. Even though I will always do everything in my power to protect her, she’s right.
I pray to God that the shield I offer her is strong enough.
“Come with me.” I stand and pull her to her feet. With her tucked under my arm, we walk back to solid land beneath our feet.
Vincent already has the limo idling, as he followed us from the wedding venue, and opens the door for us. I slide in after Elena, promptly engaging the privacy window.
She sits across from me, arms wrapped around her middle, teary gaze fixed on the floor.
“You’re right,” I finally tell her. “Each and every day is a blessing. We don’t know when we’ll meet our maker, and being part of this dangerous world increases our chances of an untimely death.
” I catch her gaze and hold it. “But I’d rather spend a single day with you than have a long life without you. ”
Her breath catches, then she softly clears her throat. Her voice comes out small. “I’d rather take my chances far away from here.”
My heart crumbles at her statement, but I keep my expression neutral as I ask, “You’ll never love me, will you?”
She swallows hard. “No.”
Glancing away, I lean back in my seat. That single word punches me in the gut.
Fuck, I’ve been wrong about everything the whole time.
I convinced myself that Elena just needed time to get to know me, to see how good we could be together, and she’d fall madly in love with me.
But I was wrong. She’ll never love me, and lust isn’t the same thing at all.
All I’m doing is hurting the woman who owns my heart by keeping her trapped here.
Now the question is, am I selfless enough to let her go? To set her free?
The very thought devastates me. If I let her go, she’ll take my heart with her. I’ll slowly die in her absence. She’s the only one for me, always has been and always will be. And if I’m not the man for her…