9. Devina
I’m almost certain I just insulted my new husband. Not my intention. But how else was I supposed to react? He’s obviously full of himself. I’ve been railroaded by men my whole life. First my father – who made the laws we were bound to, then my brother, who was forced to take on the role as my caregiver and wasn’t shy about letting me know how he felt about it.
But I chose this.
I. Chose. This.
I need to calm down before I do something stupid. This can’t all be for not.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I sigh, “I’m just really overwhelmed. Today is – a lot. I’m not usually so outspoken.”
He seems to be sympathetic to my apology and raises his hands gently in defeat. “No problem. I get it. Today is a lot for us both. We have to make an appearance at our own reception, but we can leave whenever you want and go home.”
Home.
I’ll be going to a new home tonight. With a stranger. A ping of doubt rumbles deep in my gut, but his pleading eyes tell me his kindness is genuine.
“I bet everyone is dying to meet the happy couple,” I quip and hold my hand out to him. A truce.
He takes it and runs his thumb over my knuckles. “We can be, you know?”
“Can be what?”
He smiles. No sly grin. An honest smile that makes its way up to his dark eyes. “Happy.”
Maybe he’s right. I might as well try to be happy for now. It’s not like I’ll be murdering anyone tonight. I’m in a white dress and will soon be surrounded by a few hundred people. What’s the harm in smiling for a few pictures and eating some cake? Hell, I’ll even dance with him if he asks.
He seems like the type who will ask. Although, I’m not sure if it will be because he wants to or because he’s obligated to. I’m also not sure I care as long as his hands make their way to my body.
I can’t deny how attractive he is. I’m pretty sure I’m extremely excited for all the other things he may consider to be obligatory later . . . in the dark when we’re alone.
But for now, I need to keep my mind focused and my legs closed.
Seriously Devina?
* * *
The reception hall is even grander than the church. Our time in the bridal suite must have taken longer than I realized. The entry to the hall is littered with guests and they part like the red sea for us as we make our way towards the doors.
“What’s the code word?” he whispers to me.
“Code word?”
“When you are ready for it to be over, you know, code word,” he shrugs.
I chuckle to myself. Nothing about him screams king of the underworld.
“What about ‘fly’?” I ask.
“Perfect, little sparrow. Perfect.” He squeezes my hand twice and I can see him fasten a new mask in place. He is the leader of this pack and I’m reminded that as his wife, I must also carry myself in the same regal manner.
The pessimist in me takes a mental note that his earlier kindness was likely to gain my compliance. I’m not sure why though, I did not indicate that I would cause a scene. But I guess our mutual lack of trust is just about the only thing we have in common right now.
“Eyes on me,” he reminds me as we make our grand entrance into the hall that is already filled with hundreds of people.
I look up to meet his stare, and he looks at me fondly before flipping the switch back to the stone-cold killer I know he and most of the men here are. As we make our way to our table his wall is up completely and I can’t help but worry that I may end up running headfirst into that wall at some point.
I still can’t tell which part of him is him, or if he’s even shown me yet. He’s been a perfect gentleman so far, pulling out my chair and planting a kiss on my forehead before excusing himself to speak to the guards to our right. I should be grateful that this ruthless Totaro man, seems pleased enough with me to be nice, even trying to crack a few jokes and taking a genuine interest in me. But this also poses the issue that my mind is now equally weighing thoughts of murder and the anticipation of his hands being everywhere – anywhere – on me.
An orchestra plays in the corner and couples make their way to the dance floor to sway. The dim lights create a romantic environment while waiters pass by the tables with champagne. White linen drapes over the tables and white lilies stand in tall vases. I loved lilies, but they were meant for funerals, not weddings.
Focus Vi.
The Cap has to be here. Everyone who is anyone is.
My racing thoughts are brought to an abrupt halt. I smell him before I see him. A chill shoots down my spine. Whiskey and cigar smoke coated poorly in mint. A combination I will never forget. The scent wraps around me like a noose and my back straightens. I’m frozen but I try my best to mask my fear, hatred, and rage.
There are a million ways I envisioned meeting this man face to face, yet I feel so unprepared. If my fists become any tighter I may draw blood. I look down at the steak knife to my right and wonder how mad Declan would be if I used it. With one swift movement, I could grab it and slice his throat before he even knew what was happening. They’d probably kill me, but I’m so close to death, I’d take her hand willingly as she carried me to the other side.
“Ah, there you are,” Ryder’s voice penetrates through my racing thoughts and I turn to him to stand hoping to meet his gaze – without grabbing the knife. Instead, he turns me fully around and I’m face to face with the man from my nightmares. “Devina, please meet my father, Nico Totaro.”
“Pleasure to meet your bride, son.” He takes my hand in his and brings it to his face to imitate the gesture of a kiss. I fight the bile slowly making its way up my chest and throat. “No need to be formal now, they call me Cap.” He shoots me a slimy grin. Perhaps if you didn’t know he was such a murderous prick, you could consider him good-looking. I know Scarlet did.
Knowing that I have a terrible poker face, I try my best to look away and step closer to Ryde. I smile knowing it doesn’t meet my eyes.
Fate allows me the courtesy of a quick getaway when the speakers call for the bride and groom to the dance floor. It’s time for our first dance.
“We’ll catch up with you later Cap. I have a bride to win over right now.” He takes my hand, looking curiously at me as he guides me to the center of the room where people have created a circle for us. He has already accused me of keeping secrets and anxiety settles deep in my chest that I’ve just raised another red flag.
“Luminary” by Joel Sunny is played by the small orchestra in the corner.
“I hope you don’t mind I chose this without you” Ryder spins me with one hand before bringing me in close.
“There are no words,” I raise a brow.,“and you’ve chosen everything without me.”
“The best moments in your life should leave you searching for them and coming up empty,” he says, ignoring my second statement.
What an odd thing to say. “Words are important to me.”
“I gathered that earlier today,” he chuckles, probably remembering how quickly I can spew word vomit. In truth, I’ve learned that spoken words are often a load of crap, but the written ones – those are priceless to me. Something that can be treasured forever.
He guides me around the floor like a professional. The tempo increases and I spot a movement from the crowd causing my eyes to falter, along with my feet.
“Eyes on me,” he demands gently.
He spins me, towers above me, and looks so deep into me that everything and everyone begins to fade away. It is just us now. His large hand spans across the small of my back holding me closer than I’ve ever been to a man. I feel out of breath, but I know that if this next is my last, I will be caught by his embrace, an embrace that holds so much electricity it could surely bring me back to life.
The last note causes an abrupt stop and I realize he is breathing at my tempo, chests rising and falling rapidly, and I desperately wish to be alone with him. My expectation for tonight sprints to the forefront of my mind and as nervous as I am to be completely exposed, I want nothing more than to feel him in me as soon as possible.
He gently releases me but keeps my eyes hostage as he smiles ever so slightly, a playful tension growing. His fingers drop slowly to the edge of my sleeve before he gives it a gentle tug. He has seen me do this enough to know I wouldn’t want to show my arms. A subtle confession that he knows more about me than I do about him. I realize that at some point soon, I’ll have to let him see all of me.
Applause breaks out around us and the crowd taps their glasses for us to kiss.
“You don’t have to -” I begin, but his lips are on me and his hand glides up around my neck, creeping up toward the nape of my hair.
His tongue whispers against my bottom lip and I open for him, deepening our kiss. No one would suspect we met only hours ago. I would never have suspected that a mafia heathen could hold me so tenderly with the same hands he uses to kill people.
It all becomes too much. I shouldn’t be confused right now. I should be putting on the best show of my life so I can go out with a bang – or a flame, rather. But I’m not acting when I lean into him and wrap my arm under his jacket and around his waist, bringing him as close as he can be. I need it to stop. I need to stop.
I break away gently, looking up into eyes that can see everything I’m trying to hide and I know it’s time to go before I trip and fall.
“Fly.”