Chapter Five
Roselyn
“ H old still,” Marla says, tightening the strings on the back of my lace corset dress with the hem flaring at the end.
How can women breathe in this? The fabric is so tight around my torso, I feel as if I’m going to burst any minute.
“You’re going to be so beautiful once I’m done with you.” Her tone is filled with so much delight, she might turn into Mary Poppins.
We’re in a powder room in the manor. I stare at myself in the mirror. My thick hair is straight, my makeup is light and natural, and my lips are painted red. I look like a classy prostitute.
For the last few hours, Marla has been grooming me like a poodle.
“Walk toward the floor-length mirror,” she orders.
My chest cavity burns, and my stomach aches from this damn corset. I put one foot in front of the other as I walk on the cold slab of marble. “How can I? I can barely breathe.”
“Sorry.” She loosens the strings a bit, grabs my shoulder, and spins me around to face her. She assesses me from head to toe, tapping her finger on her chin.
“Where are the heels?” she asks.
I point to the closet, and she disappears and returns with a pair of beige heels. I slide my feet into the tight shoes.
Her eyes brim with tears. She grabs the tiara and veil from the dresser and places them on my head. “You are so beautiful. Devious is a lucky man to marry someone as pretty as you.”
Bitterness bubbles in my chest as my lips curl up in disgust. This is bullshit. I’m so sick of being used as a pawn and feeling like I’m collateral damage. Tears gloss over my eyes as I ball my fists, digging my nails into my palms.
“Can you leave, please? I need a few minutes to myself.”
Smiling sadly, she leaves the room. I move to the floor-to-ceiling window showcasing the backyard. The other famiglia are already seated in the white chairs decorated with red and white roses. Soldiers stand in the back, and security searches the property for any threats.
I spot Devious standing at the altar. He’s breathtaking in his tux with a green tie. It’s like God hand-carved him so perfectly, every feature is unique. As if he knows I’m staring at him, his eyes venture to me, and they stay locked on mine. He doesn’t smile. Someone pats him on the back, and he breaks our stare.
A knock at the door startles me, and before I have time to answer, Papa walks in.
“Why are you here?” I snap. “To ensure your debt is going to get paid? Don’t worry, Dad. It’s going to get paid.”
Tears sting my eyes, and a lump the size of a grapefruit forms in the back of my throat.
Papa doesn’t say a word but frowns at me. His hand connects with my face, and the slap sends pain flying through my cheek all the way down to my chin.
Shock filters through me. He hasn’t put his hand on me since the day after Mom died. I stroke my delicate flesh.
He clutches my arm, squeezing tight. “Next time you disobey me, I’m going to beat the fuck out of you. You’re the reason why you’re in this predicament. You should have gone to Vegas. But, once again, Roselyn wants to do what Roselyn wants to do. Do not, I repeat, do not give Devious any trouble.” Then he drags me out of the bedroom.
My feet barely keep up with his steps.
Papa opens the back door, and everyone rises from their chairs. My heart beats harder than rain thumping on a rooftop, and my throat is dry. I bite down on my lip to keep the tears from falling down my face. This will be all over with. Tomorrow, around this time, I’ll be on a plane. I don’t have to worry about my father abusing me anymore. I glance down at the red rose petals scattered on the grass.
Once Devious’s Italian loafers come into view, I snap my head up and gaze at the devil before me. Papa pulls the veil back and kisses my forehead before taking his seat in the front row. It’s a shit show, a fucking joke that Papa shows affection in front of these guests.
Devious rubs his finger on his chin. “You look exquisite.”
I flinch a little. “Thank you.”
He grabs both of my hands, and we face the priest. The priest starts by blessing our union. He goes on about how the marriage is sacred.
“Now the vows and the rings,” the priest says.
It’s an imprisonment band. To prove to the world our contract is sealed. Aiden gives Devious our bands, and then he smiles at me.
Devious grabs my ring finger and says, “I, Cayden Vitali, take Roselyn Bartoli as my lawful wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer. Till death do us part.”
I gape at the ring he slides on my finger. The diamond is pink and the shape of a heart. Devious gives me the platinum band to put on his finger.
“I, Roselyn Bartoli, take Cayden Vitali as my lawful husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer. Till death do us part.”
“Now you may kiss the bride,” the priest says with delight in his tone.
Devious places his hand on my lower back, pulling me close. His breath smells like mint leaves. A cold shiver slithers up my spine, and butterflies blossom in my rib cage, as I breathe in deeply.
He leans down, and I close my eyes as his lips press against mine. My chest brushes his as I loop my arms around his neck. He guides his tongue into my mouth, and he deepens the kiss, making my core tingle. Dizziness takes over me when he pulls away, and I’m completely speechless.
Everyone cheers and claps their hands, except for my papa—he wrinkles his lips, stands up, and tucks his hands in his pockets. Devious threads his fingers with mine, and I frown at my new husband.
Tonight, I’m going to watch him take his last breath.