Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
NEVIO
T he tuxedo fits snug against my body, the high collar shirt hiding at least most of my birthmark. When I lean my head forward, my thick shoulder length hair falls into my face, covering the rest of it. I’ve never been able to change my hair, because at this length it serves a purpose. It hides me, my markings, my sins, my defects. I lift my head up again and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
Brushing my fingers through my hair, I push it back out of my face. I turn my cheek so that the red mark is clearly visible in the reflection.
Dalila didn’t react the way I thought she would when she saw the full mark running over my shoulder and down my chest. When she traced the contour with her delicate, warm fingers, I didn’t know whether to push her away or pull her closer.
Right now, though, all I want to do is pull her closer.
I can’t believe I am marrying her today. Now. In the next hour.
I’m fully dressed, ready to leave, but just taking a moment to gather my thoughts and calm the weird nervous sensation drifting in my stomach. I’m getting married. Something I never thought I would have in this life.
Love, marriage, a wife - it’s not made for men like me.
But now that I suddenly have this chance, I want to prove to the entire world that they’ve been wrong about me. I have a heart. I can love.
I will prove it.
I turn away from the mirror and that monstrous reflection. Grabbing my phone, I shake my head and clench my jaw.
I hope Dalila can see through my skin, into my heart.
I hope she can, one day, see me.
I walk from the pool house towards my car parked in the driveway. Glancing up towards the bedroom window, I see shadows moving inside the house. The girls are still in there getting ready. They still have time. The church is close. But I want to get there early to make sure it’s safe.
The car bleeps twice as it unlocks and I pull the door open, sliding into the driver’s seat. I press the ignition button and it purrs to life beneath me.
The drive to the church is quick and uneventful. I don’t know why I feel as though someone is going to come leaping from every corner - to steal away my bride.
I park right by the entrance, a quick getaway if we need it, even though it also makes it obvious that I’m here. I’m choosing my battles today, based on the very limited information I have about this situation.
Usually, when I go to war with a man, I know what I’m there for. I know what I’m dealing with. Right now, I feel as though I’m in the dark about everything.
But darkness comforts me. It makes me feel alive and safe.
Within minutes of arriving, a second car pulls up and parks next to mine. I know who it is right away, so I stand leaning against my car waiting for Masaccio to climb out and tell me what the hell is going on.
“Nevio.” He says my name as he slams his car door closed and his feet crunch on the gravel of the parking lot.
I nod. Watching. Waiting.
“I just wanted to make sure you two were going to go through with it. I know Dalila might try to pull something and make a run for it. I’m sure she’s pissed.”
I don’t like to speak, not to anyone. But I have questions.
“She will be here.” I say bluntly.
“I hope you’re right.” His brows at knotted at the sound of my voice. He’s never heard me utter a word before. But today he doesn’t taunt me or react to my sudden vocal freedom.
“What is going on?”
He shrugs and sighs, then runs his hand through his hair and leans his back against his own car. I fold my arms across my chest, waiting. I won’t ask again. He heard me clearly enough.
“It’s complicated. And I can’t tell you much at the moment. But Nevio, Delila is in danger if you let her out of your sight. Once this marriage is completed - it makes it safer for her - but it not entirely. Do you think you’d be able to keep her in your house, out of the public eye, until we can resolve this? Until everything settles.”
“Until what settles?”
“I’m sorry, man. I really can’t tell you more than that. Will you keep her safe?”
“Yes.”
“Does she hate me? For what I did?” there is a shift in his expression when he asks this. His eyes fill with a desperation, a deep fear, that she will never forgive him.
I stare at him for a long moment, then shake my head.
“She’ll understand when you explain it to her.”
His jaw clenches as she swallows hard.
Down the street, I spot my sister’s car, driving towards us. “That’s Dalila arriving.” I lift my chin to gesture towards the approaching vehicle.
“I have to go,” Masaccio says quickly, almost panicked.
“Not staying?” I tilt my head.
“No. Take care of my little sister.” He says with an intense glare at me.
I glare back, not saying anything.
Lucia’s driver pulls into the parking lot of the church and Mas ducks into his car, slamming the door behind himself, safely hidden behind the thick, bulletproof tinted glass.
I turn towards the girls, eager to see Dalia in her dress. But it’s Lucia who climbs out first.
“What are you doing? You can’t see her yet. I told you - it’s bad luck. Get into the church and wait with the priest, you moron.” She pushes at me, trying to get to me move up the church steps towards the massive wooden double doors.
“Wait.” I say, trying to get my sisters to calm down. “Please give this to Dalila.”
I hand her the box with a beautiful diamond bracelet I had made specially for her, a rushed order that cost triple what it should have, but I don’t care.
Lucia takes it from me. “Okay, I’ll give it to her. Now go away.”
A low chuckle rumbles through me, and I resist the urge to turn and look towards Dalila again.
In a matter of moments - she will be mine.