63. Wynter
Wynter
T he priest performed the ceremony, shaking like a leaf against the breeze.
The ceremony and words uttered during it were a haze. I focused on my breathing and people that would kill Bas if I lost my shit.
Do. Not. Lose. Your. Shit.
I loved my villain. It was stupidity. Suicide. Except that I couldn’t forget his smiles. How he caught me from the balcony. The way he slipped the shoes onto my bare feet.
That was so damn pathetic even without saying it out loud. He kidnapped me, drugged me, and I loved him. He was psychotic. Maybe I was too.
Bas whispered his vows into my ear, his words a dark promise. “Nobody will separate me from you. Not gods. Not heaven. Not hell. You’ll forever be mine. I’ll have you, and you’ll have me. Until death do us part.”
I couldn’t decide whether it was a romantic vow or just a mad obsessive one.
Basilio’s strong hand took mine and without hesitation slipped the ring onto my finger. My heart drummed vigorously under my rib cage but my fingers didn’t tremble. My face was a perfect mask.
In front of a hundred witnesses, our fate was sealed. The unfamiliar faces of New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, New Orleans, and even Washington witnessed the union. The shackles were permanently placed on me.
But none of them knew I accepted those shackles nine months ago because I fell in love with the monster.
My eyes darted to Davina. She had married my uncle. It wasn’t under perfect circumstances and they made it work. They were happy. But they didn’t have the history that the two of our families had.
“You may kiss the bride.” The priest’s words penetrated my thoughts.
I raised my head and met Basilio’s dark, liquid gaze. Those eyes that swept me off my feet from the moment he caught me that night. It seemed ages ago, like it happened to two different people. He wasn’t the same; neither was I.
He bent his towering frame to bridge the distance between us and he took my mouth without hesitation. Our first kiss as husband and wife. Soft. Possessive. Heartbreaking.
My lips parted, the warmth of his lips a welcomed sensation. His tongue brushed over my lower lip and a moan filled the air between us.
I took his lower lip between my teeth and bit hard into it. His body stiffened but he didn’t jerk back. Nothing. He ended the kiss, his tongue sweeping over the sting, as if he relished in the pain.
Our eyes remained locked as he pulled back, something dark and possessive in the depths of his stare. A shudder passed through me, though I wasn’t certain whether it was in anticipation or fear.
He took my hand and a tight smile masked his expression as we walked down the aisle past the guests and towards the exit of the church. Outside, the limo already waited for us and we headed straight for it.
“Wait, I want to ride with-”
“You’re riding with me,” he growled, a warning clear in his voice.
“Shouldn’t we thank the guests?” I rasped. “I barely got to see my family. My mom.”
I still couldn’t believe she was back in New York. It would have been okay if she couldn’t have made it, especially considering how she reacted after seeing Bas and Dante. Uncle hasn’t said much and I hoped they didn’t sedate her to convince her to come.
“We’ll do that at the reception.”
The whole drive to the reception, Basilio’s Hampton beach estate, the air between us was so tense, you could slice it with a knife.