Chapter 3 #2
I lift my head to look at Riccardo. From the emotion tightening his features, I know the exact moment he sees Gianna.
Christiano will never have that look on his face.
Or maybe he’ll find another woman to marry. Someone who’s strong enough to walk beside him.
Sadness washes through me, pushing a lump to my throat and making tears gather in my eyes. When one escapes, I quickly wipe it away.
I make the mistake of glancing at the aisle to look at Gianna, but Christiano is staring at me and instantly takes my gaze prisoner.
While his sister and father meet Riccardo up front, the anxiety spikes in my chest, warring with the deep sadness that’s become a constant companion.
I wish I was stronger. I wish I wasn’t filled with terror whenever I think of being with Christiano.
I wish we could be together like a normal couple.
The memory of him being shot flashes through my mind, and if it weren’t for the extra medication I took earlier, I’d have a panic attack right now.
The anxiety takes a tight hold of my throat, and I quickly rip my gaze away from Christiano’s.
Even though I watch as Riccardo and Gianna say their vows, I don’t take in anything. I zone out, going to my safe place deep in my mind.
Mom’s hand covers mine, and she squeezes hard, giving me something to focus on. As I sit mere feet from the man I still love after all this time, she keeps me grounded.
Just get through today, then you won’t have to see him for a long while again.
Mom releases my hand. “Let’s go to the hotel for the reception.”
The ceremony is over?
I get up with my parents and step out of the pew. While Dad takes Mom’s hand, Bianca falls in beside me and hooks her arm through mine. “That was so beautiful.”
“It was.” Regret trickles into my chest because I didn’t pay attention to my brother’s special moment.
We all file out of the cathedral and form two groups on the steps. Rosie and Enzo hand out confetti, and as I reach into Rosie’s basket, another hand joins mine.
I recognize the rose tattoo, and the instant our fingers touch, I yank away. The spark is so intense my entire left arm buzzes, and panicking, I duck into the small crowd to get away from Christiano.
Calm down. You can’t take another pill for at least five hours. Don’t ruin Riccardo’s special day.
I end up standing behind Adriano and Georgi, and even though their much bigger bodies provide a good hiding spot, it means I can’t see anything when Riccardo and Gianna come out of the cathedral.
The instant the happy couple gets into the limo, I make a beeline for my parents.
I get into the back of the G-Wagon with Bianca, and when Dad drives us toward the hotel, Mom pats her eyes dry with a tissue while saying, “I can’t believe our baby is married. The ceremony was perfect.”
“It was,” Dad replies.
“I love Gianna’s dress.” Bianca grins happily. “She has good taste.”
When my sister looks at me, I nod. “She looks gorgeous.”
Bianca keeps staring at me, then asks, “It doesn’t look like Christiano is moving on.”
“Bianca,” Dad snaps. “Drop the subject.”
“What?” A frown forms on her forehead. “I’m just saying what everyone is thinking.”
“We don’t need to talk about it,” Mom says.
I glance out the window, and taking a deep breath, I struggle to keep the memories of my short relationship with Christiano from flooding my mind.
When no one talks about him, and I don’t see him for a long while, the fear eases. But just as I begin to believe I’ll be okay, I have to attend a party or function, and the mere sight of him sends me spiraling.
If it weren’t a known fact that I’m a Cosa Nostra princess, I’d move to Seattle and live near my grandparents.
I’ve talked to my parents about living on my own, and even though they’ll worry about me, they’re trying to be supportive. Dad says as long as I choose an apartment so I have lots of neighbors, he’ll agree, but there’s no way he’ll allow me to live on my own in a house.
Dad finds a parking spot, and as we get out, the noise from the other vehicles is loud.
I see Christiano’s SUV, and after he climbs out, he looks agitated as he walks toward the elevators. Not wanting to get stuck with him, I hang back and wait for Augusto.
There are tired lines on my brother’s face as he walks toward me, and it has me asking, “When did you last get a good night’s sleep?”
“I sleep just fine,” he answers.
I stick to his side as we head to the conference room. I’ve been at this hotel many times before, as it belongs to the Falcos.
The hall is decorated with beautiful blue hydrangeas and white lilies. I find my place beside Bianca and take a seat.
She nudges her shoulder against mine. “So now that Mom and Dad aren’t around, you can tell me what’s going on with you and Christiano? It’s clear as day the man still has the hots for you.”
I let out a sigh as I scowl at her. “Nothing is going on.” When her lips part, I snap, “I don’t want to talk about him.”
I train my gaze on the bridal table and avoid looking across the hall, where the Falcos’ table is.
Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the speeches to begin, but when Riccardo and Gianna take to the dance floor, my anxiety level spikes once again.
Shit.
Christiano gets up and crosses the hall.
Leaning into Bianca, I quickly whisper, “You dance with him. I have to go to the restroom.”
“Don’t you dare be disrespectful!” Augusto gives me a dark look, telling me not to test his patience today. “You will dance with Christiano.”
My heart sinks to my stomach, and I shoot him a scowl of my own.
Christiano walks straight to me, and grabbing my hand, he hauls me to my feet and practically drags me to the dance floor.
He stops abruptly, causing me to bump into his chest, then his arm locks around me like an unmovable force, keeping me squashed to him.
Taking hold of my hand, he begins to move, and my body has no choice but to submit to his as we dance.
My lips quickly grow dry from the breaths bursting over them, and I’m sure he’s aware of how fast my heart is beating.
For close to a minute, we dance in silence, but then he lowers his head and his breath skims over my temple. Tingles rush through me, and just as I’m about to close my eyes, he orders, “Look at me.”
When I don’t obey quickly enough, he growls, “Now, Sienna.”
My gaze snaps to his, and seeing the dominance and anger in his black-as-night eyes, I try to brace for the fight.
“It’s been seven years. I’m out of patience.”
Even though he scares me, I still say, “It doesn’t matter if it’s been seventy years. I’m not going to change my mind.”
God, if only I could, but my mind is not something I can control.
The instant the song ends, I try to pull free from his hold, but he doesn’t let go and instead tightens his arm around me even more.
Air bursts over my lips as our eyes lock. If it weren’t for the high heels I’m wearing, I’d be standing on my toes from his firm grip.
“You have to stop,” I say, my hand moving from his shoulder to his chest. I push against him, but it’s useless. The man is an unmovable mountain.
“Never.” The single word sounds like a threat.
I tear my gaze away from his and search for Mom, but when I spot her, she’s in a deep conversation with Gianna.
Shit.
I look for Dad, but he’s talking with my uncles.
When the second song comes to an end, I once again try to pull free, but just like before, Christiano tightens his hold on me and shakes his head.
“Stop trying to pull away. I get almost no time with you, and today, you’re not leaving my arms unless I decide otherwise.”
I lower my head and try to focus on my breathing so I don’t spiral but instead inhale a lungful of his scent. The man smells like a blend of violence and leather with a hint of spice.
It’s familiar but foreign at the same time.
Christiano lets go of my hand, and placing it behind my head, he leans down and presses his mouth to my temple. I feel his lips move as he says, “Just give me this.”
I’m unable to ignore the feel of his arms around me and his solid chest.
A rational part of me thinks that it’s been seven years and no one has been able to kill him. Maybe he’s strong enough to survive until an old age. Maybe…maybe…maybe…
But the fear… God, the fear overwhelms me, and the memory of thinking I lost him rips through me like a hurricane.
Instantly, my lungs refuse to work, and my heart speeds up until it’s beating dangerously fast. Somehow, I manage to yank free, and doing what I do best, I run.
I don’t stop until I slam through the restroom door, and with trembling fingers, I struggle to lock it so Christiano can’t follow me inside.
When the door is pushed open, I let out a panicked sob.
“It’s me, sweetheart,” Mom says, and I quickly step back so she can come in.
She pushes a bottle of water into my hands before digging out the spare box of my medication she always carries in her handbag. I’m trembling so badly, I can’t take the two pills from her, and Mom has to push them into my mouth.
After I manage to swallow them, she holds me.
I gasp for air while my anxiety squeezes the life out of my chest, and just as I see dots swimming in my vision, it finally begins to lessen as a medicated calmness soaks into my mind.
“There you go.” Mom pulls back and squeezes my shoulders, then my upper arms, wrists, and hands. She keeps repeating the process while I calm down, and by the time my breaths even out, I feel exhausted and sleepy.
“I’ll get Milo to take us home,” she says.
Lethargically, I shake my head, and my tongue feels heavy. “You have to stay for Riccardo.” I can see Mom’s torn between staying and supporting me. “I’m just going to sleep. Don’t worry. I’ll take a cab.”
“Over my dead body. Milo will go home with you.”
Nodding, I leave the restroom with Mom. It feels like I’m trudging through thick mud, and every few steps, I struggle to keep my balance.
“Wait here,” Mom says, leaving me in the hallway while she goes to get Uncle Milo.
I lean against one of the walls and wrap my arms around my middle. I close my eyes, and when I open them again, Christiano is standing right in front of me, a dark expression on his stupidly handsome face.
“Sienna?”
As I begin to shake my head and push away from the wall, I hear Mom say, “Please, let’s not do this now, Christiano. Sienna isn’t feeling well.”
Uncle Milo wraps an arm around me and hooks one under my knees, then the world tips as he picks me up.
He’s like a father to me, and feeling safe, I rest my head against his shoulder and let the medication take me into a dreamless sleep.