20. Sly
Getting through the Paladino’s security was more of a challenge than we thought, despite having the help of Luciano, and I’m nearly too late by the time I’m able to get inside of the church.
The only thing I can think of is getting to Vincenza before she speaks her commitment.
Pushing open the door as quickly as I can, it slams against the wall with force, causing every head in the room to turn in my direction.
It takes mere seconds for my eyes to collide with Vinnie’s, and I see the moment her knees buckle. August holds one of her hands and reaches out to catch her with the other.
As he holds her steady, he looks up at me, and even from across the room, I can see his eyes darken. “Lucchetti.”
In the same moment, Vincenza’s father is out of his seat, bellowing my name. “Lucchetti!” The woman next to him—Vinnie’s mother—grabs onto her husband’s wrist and pulls him back down to the pew.
Releasing his hold on Vincenza, August takes a step away from her into my direction. Pulling my Glock from its holster beneath my jacket, I aim the barrel directly at him as I walk down the aisle toward them.
Nervous murmurs, small screams, and a few sobs sound throughout the crowd at the sight of my weapon. I pay them no mind—not even giving my attention to the Paladino family as I hold my gaze on August.
Adrenaline rushes through my bloodstream, my monster fully unleashed—prepared and excited. Not an ounce of remorse flits through me for what I’m about to do.
August looks ready to tear me limb from limb, and the only thing that flickers through my mind is him raising his hand to the love of my life.
He deserves to die.
Baring his teeth, August takes the altar step down. “If you think you can?—”
God, please forgive me.
Squeezing the trigger, I fire my weapon.
Screams erupt throughout the church as the gunshot echoes through the grand vaulted ceilings, and August’s lifeless body crumples to the floor. Vinnie’s scream is prominent against the others, her hands covering her mouth as she looks at the corpse beside her in disbelief.
For the quickest moment, I lock eyes with Luciano, who gives me a quick nod as he sits next to his father, which I hope means he has reached the head of security and ordered them to stand down.
He must have, since I am still breathing.
When I make it to Vinnie, I see the red splatters of blood across her dress, her chest, and a little on her hands. Surprisingly, her face is spared of August’s blood.
“Piccola ladra,” I breathe as I take an altar step. “Are you alright?”
It’s an idiotic question—there is a dead man laying on the floor in front of her—of course she’s not alright.
Still, I do not trust her family, so as I see movement from my peripheral, I briefly look over at where they are and raise my Glock, pointing it at Joseph Paladino. “Don’t you dare try anything, stronzo,” I growl in his direction before sweeping the direction of the gun over to Vinnie’s father.
“What are you doing here?” Vinnie asks, still in shock at my abrupt entrance.
From beside us, the priest—monsignor?—begins to whisper a prayer.
“I would never let you marry a man who harms you, Vincenza. As it is, the only man you should be marrying is me, and I hope you will.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the man sitting next to Joseph begin to stand. “Sit down!” I snap, turning my gun to him.
Joseph mirrors the man as he pushes to his feet. “I’m going to ki?—“
“Sit down, unless you’re ready to join August in death,” I snarl, cocking the gun. The sound reverberates all around.
The man next to Joseph puts his hands in front of him, and they slowly sit back down. There”s a wildness in Joseph’s eyes as he stares at me—something dark and unrefined. I am mildly surprised when he lowers himself to the pew, yielding my threat.
Next to them both is a couple—perhaps August’s parents. The man’s face is beet-red, looking as though he’s daydreaming about strangling me.
Narrowing my eyes, I send a clear, but silent, message.
Don’t even think about it.
Next to him, the woman cries.
Slowly, when I am more certain Joseph isn’t going to try anything, I reposition the barrel of my gun to face Vinnie’s father, Maurizio, before turning my attention back to her.
Her eyes are glassy as she stares into mine. “You knew August was hurting me?”
“I figured it out, amore mio. You should have told me he was holding the threat of my life over your head. I would have protected you.”
“I was protecting you,” she whimpers, and I can see the truth in her eyes—and the fear. She believed August would have harmed me, all while it was her enduring the suffering.
Dropping my voice, I ask a question that’s been plaguing me, one that I would shoot August’s corpse again for, depending on her answer. “Piccola ladra, was he forcing himself on you? Did he hurt you in any other way?”
“No,” Vinnie tells me, shaking her head. “He said he liked his women willing, and since I was not, he was waiting for our wedding night.” A tremor runs through her body as she says the words, a clear look of disgust on her face.
Relief washes through me. “We have a lot to discuss, but I would like to save that for later. Right now, I would very much like to marry you.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and she glances at August’s body as it cools at her feet. “Now?”
I can’t help but to smile. She is beautiful, even when she is painted in red. “Sì, now. I can’t wait another minute to make you my wife.”
Still, my gun never wavers from being pointed at her father.
As though they can hear our conversation, Sully, Enzo, and Nixon appear from the side of the church and approach us.
A quiet layer of whispers settles among the guests as they watch my friend”s approach—all wearing tuxedos, looking as though they’re meant to be a part of the bridal party.
“And you all call me the dramatic one,” Sully mumbles as he produces a black velvet box from inside his jacket pocket and hands it to me before sauntering over to where August’s family sits, taking the seat next to the man who I presume is his father.
Without commentary, Nixon and Enzo pick up August’s body and carry him out of God’s house. A trail of ruby-red blood drips across the white marble floor of the church, following behind them like an unwanted shadow.
I feel mildly guilty for the location of where I was forced to kill August, but I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
I should have done it sooner.
Looking back at Vinnie, I lift her chin with my pointer finger. Her eyes—no longer full of tears—sparkle with a flicker of happiness that I haven’t seen in months.
“Marry me,” I repeat. “Be my wife. Make me the happiest man on this continent and the next. Let me love and cherish you as you deserve. Let me father your children and take care of the family we create together. Marry me and be my forever.”
Without hesitation, Vinnie closes the distance between us and presses her lips to mine. “Yes,” she breathes against my lips. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
A collective gasp sounds, but I ignore the chatter and chaos as it emits around us. Instead, I take my time kissing my fiancée slowly and sweetly. “Ti amo, piccola ladra. Più di quanto le parole possano descrivere.” I love you, little thief. More than words can describe.
Pulling herself from me, Vinnie smiles. “I love you.”
Turning to the Father, I address him, though he looks terrified of my mere presence. I can’t fault him for it—I can admit what I did in the church is horrific. “Father, please continue with the ceremony, but if you would, let us begin again from the statement of intention.”
“Monsignor,” Vincenza whispers, correcting me quietly. Placing her hand in my free hand, she gives it a gentle squeeze.
Shaking profusely, the monsignor turns his terror-stricken eyes to Vinnie. “Miss…Miss Paladino?”
Her smile widens, and she nods her head. “Please continue.”
Her gaze follows the direction of my gun and she looks at her family for a moment. “Sly, please lower the gun. My father is unarmed.”
“I don’t trust him,” I grit, staring at him as he stares at me.
“I understand,” she tells me, her voice soft and sweet like smooth, golden honey. “But he isn’t going to stop this. He would have already. Please.”
It takes me a moment before I am willing to tear my gaze from Maurizio and back to her. When I finally do, her gray-blue eyes shine brightly, and regardless of the tension I feel, a sense of contentment washes over me.
I flick my gaze to Joseph and take in his demeanor. He’s seething—his hands in tight fists on top of his thighs—but he makes no move to stand, which surprises me, until my line of vision lands behind him.
Pressed against the base of his skull is the muzzle of a gun. The corner of Enzo’s lips turn up in a sideways grin as he leans forward in the pew behind Joseph. Next to him, Nixon’s arms are draped over the small space between the two other men, his own gun in his hand.
Satisfaction blooms in my chest, and I turn back to my bride, looking at her as I smile and say, “Please, Monsignor. You may continue.”
With a shaky breath, he addresses me. “What is your name, young man?”
“Sylvester Lucchetti.”
He nods and clears his throat. On his authority, the guests of the church quiet once again.
“Vincenza and Sylvester. Have you come here today, before God, your families, and each other, to enter into a marriage freely, wholeheartedly, and without coercion?” he asks, the tremble in his voice evident.
“I have,” Vincenza and I repeat in unison. Releasing one of her hands, I brush my knuckles against the side of her cheek.
“Are you prepared to join in Holy Matrimony as you come together to follow the path of marriage, united as one, to love and to honor each other as long as you both shall live?”
“I am,” we repeat, and I reach for her hand again, rubbing my thumb against the skin of her ring finger. Within moments, my ring will rest in that very spot.
“Are you prepared to lovingly accept God”s children and bring them up according to the love and Law of Christ and his Church?”
It’s all I’ve been dreaming of—life and a family with Vinnie.
There is no hesitation when I say, “I am.” Her words collide with mine, and I cannot help but lean down to kiss her softly, knowing she’s been picturing a future with me, too.
“As it is your intention to enter into Holy Matrimony, it is time to declare your consent and commitment before God and His Church. Due to the—er—circumstances, I will ask Vincenza to recite them first, so you have the opportunity to hear them, Sylvester.”
“Grazie, Monsignor.”
Vinnie beams at me, her gaze never straying from mine. “I, Vincenza Mae Paladino, take you, Sylvester Lucchetti, to be my lawful husband. I promise to have and to hold you from this day forward, for better and worse, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you through all the days of my life until death do us part.”
“Amen,” the monsignor says curtly. “Sylvester, recite your commitment.”
My heart gallops with excitement. I am about to make Vinnie my wife and show the world how much I love and adore this woman.
“I, Sylvester Lucchetti, take you, Vincenza Mae Paladino, to be my lawful wife. I swear to have and to hold you from this day forward, for better and worse, in sickness and in health. I will love, cherish, and honor you through all the days of my life until death do us part, and every moment in the afterlife.”
“May the Lord, in all of his kindness, strengthen the consent you have declared before God and His church to bring fulfillment of his blessings to you.” The monsignor clears his throat again, a line of sweat accumulating at his hairline. “What God has joined together, no one may asunder. Let us bless the Lord.”
He raises his hands, signaling to the guests to repeat their part. Some do as a quiet ripple of “Thanks be to God,” sounds throughout, but the voices are nowhere near strong or boisterous.
It doesn’t seem to bother Vincenza, though, so I don’t allow it to bother me.
“The rings,” the monsignor says under his breath. Reaching into the pocket where I stowed the box Sully handed me, I turn it toward my wife so she may see her ring.
She gasps as the lid opens, revealing a four carat pear cut pink diamond set on a white gold band, with a halo of diamonds surrounding it. Behind it rests two white gold bands—a diamond band for her to wear when she prefers a simple ring, and a brushed band for myself.
Taking all three from the box, I hand them to the monsignor.
Resting them flat on his palm, he looks down at them. “Lord, bless these rings so that those who may wear them abide in peace and in your will, may remain faithful to one another, and may always live in mutual charity. Through Christ our Lord.”
“Amen,” echoes through the church as more guests join in for this blessing. I repeat them, and Vinnie follows as she grins, watching as the monsignor sprinkles our rings with holy water.
Handing me Vinnie’s rings, he passes mine to her.
Positioning the band at the tip of my ring finger, she gazes lovingly into my eyes as she says, “Sylvester Lucchetti, receive this ring as a sign of my everlasting love and fidelity.”
She pushes the ring up my finger until it reaches the base.
“Vincenza Mae Paladino,” I begin, raising my voice slightly so all can hear as I align both rings to slide on her. “Receive these rings as a sign of my everlasting love and fidelity.”
Making the sign of the cross, the monsignor closes. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Now, let us invoke God’s blessing upon this bride and groom, and may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed with the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Sylvester, you may now kiss your bride!”
I don’t wait another second before I close the distance between us and kiss my wife. Cupping the back of her head, I tilt her back, dipping her deeply as our mouths move together in perfect synchronicity. I want to ravish her, but our sins have already amassed in this blissful union, so I keep it as tame as I possibly can.
Too soon, I right her and break our kiss, but I never take my eyes off her. The monsignor then gives his final words to us and the attendees. “Go in peace to glorify the Lord with your life.”
All around, guests resound, “Thanks be to God.”
Leaning forward, I kiss her softly again before I angle my body and scoop her into a bridal carry. She laughs as I start down the aisle, heading straight for the doors.
“We’re supposed to walk down the aisle together as husband and wife,” she scolds in a playful tone, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I have waited far too long to have you in my arms again, Vincenza. This is me making up for lost time. You may never walk again, amore mio.”
Nuzzling into me, she kisses the tender spot on my neck. “I love you, Sly Lucchetti.”
“Ti amo, moglie mia.”
I love you, my wife.