21. Dante
21
DANTE
“You think you’re big and bad because you’re holding a gun? You marry her and you’re sealing her fate.” Liam’s face is ghost-white, but his evil words are filled with a bravado I’m sure he’s trying to convince himself is real courage.
I’m not a fan of this situation.
But I’m even less of one after my nephew tosses out a threat like that. A threat so vitriolic and vague that my mind can’t help but come up with endless ideas of what he might do to get back at Victoria. The kind of mental turmoil he would heap on her—more than what he’s already tried—just to get what he wants.
He doesn’t need Victoria anymore. I’m handling the Angelo Lombardi problem. This is a matter of pride. It’s in his best interest to drop this shit now, before I beat the message into him that what I decide to claim as a man—regardless of the reason—is mine .
“Are you threatening the woman who will be my wife? Because after she says ‘I do’ I’m going to be taking my vows very seriously.”
Liam doesn’t flinch at my deadly warning, but I can’t say I’m not surprised. He represents the worst of the Moretti gene pool. Dumb and impulsive, unable to come up with a strategy or fallback plan. His immaturity only emphasizes his faults.
His lips curl back and he bares his teeth like a rabid dog. “You think she’s gonna fuck you like she does me? Is that it? Your boring, stuffy old ass thinks that you can just swoop in here and take what’s mine?” I see his focus slide over to Victoria, and his next words drip with desperation. “Come on, Vee. You don’t need this. I’ll protect you?—”
Victoria shakes her head, squeezing my fingers in hers. Her worst nightmare is becoming reality as she continues to play the starring role in this farce. I almost feel like a bigger villain than Liam.
Almost.
I know what needs to happen. Victoria does as well, she’s just had a harder time accepting it. She’s put up a fight every step of the way, and as much as it pisses me off when she rebels against me… Well, I can’t deny that my cock twitched with admiration when she smacked the shit out of Liam’s ratty little friend.
“Are you for real?” Liam shouts when Victoria doesn’t move toward him.
She stays by my side.
Loyalty doesn’t have to be declared through some showy speech. No, real action is more than enough for me. Victoria may have fucked up in trying to find her own way out, her desire for independence landing us in this very church, but the woman’s not stupid. She’s aware that Liam is incapable of following through, that my nephew is entirely undeserving of her trust.
“Take a seat,” I order, jerking my gun to one of the pews. “You’re holding up the priest.”
“I’m not staying for this shit,” he spits. “You double-crossed me.”
“I’m saving you,” I retort. “If you run from?—”
“Shut up,” he sneers.
If I hadn’t been lying awake in Marco’s guesthouse, unable to sleep, I wouldn’t have known what Liam would attempt tonight. If I hadn’t decided to get some fresh air, I never would have overheard him telling Marissa—his wild panic obvious in his tone—about Victoria’s attempt to get a passport and run.
His mother came up with this ugly idea to trap Victoria into a speedy marriage, speaking soothingly as she convinced her son to kidnap Victoria and bring her to her old family priest.
I didn’t even bother pretending that I hadn’t heard the whole scheme when I opened the backdoor and entered their kitchen, breaking up the sneaky little conference. Instead, I offered my services as backup.
Liam had resisted, but Marissa latched onto my suggestion, happy to send some extra muscle to support her son. Fortunately for me and Victoria, my nephew always seems to do what his mother tells him to.
Bet he won’t make that mistake again.
“Word of advice,” I say. “Make sure you stick with people you trust for things like this, you moron.”
My nephew glowers at me once more before nodding his head at his buddy and turning on his heel. The pair of idiots march back down the aisle and toward the doors.
“We need a witness,” Father Charles mutters from behind me, a slight tremor in his voice. I’m sure it’s the gun that has the priest worked up. I sigh, rolling my eyes.
“Hey, you,” I clip out, stopping Liam’s little snitch in his tracks. “Sit down. That pew right there is close enough. You’re my witness. Try and leave and we’ll get a chance to test my aim.”
He hesitates, obviously about to miss his ride back to Thronewood as Liam storms outside, but eventually he slides into one of the wooden benches.
Perfect.
Returning my gun to the holster strapped at my lower back, I check on Victoria. Her pupils are blown and she leans slightly away from me as she looks me up and down as if she doesn’t recognize me.
That makes two of us.
I never wanted to get married. Not after what Gabriella put me through.
Now I’m giving my last name to a twenty-year-old, an innocent bystander whose only hope of a savior is…me.
I didn’t sign up to be anyone’s hero.
If I had half a brain cell focused on self-preservation, I would’ve left the States the moment I found Angelo Lombardi waiting in my office. I was fully aware of how messy this could get, the lengths I’d need to go to get myself out of it, and what could—and more than likely, would—happen to Victoria. I knew Liam wouldn’t pull this off.
Not without screwing her over.
I’ve never had a hero complex, always accepting my role as the villain instead. This one attempt to shake things up may very well get me killed. How ironic to die the first time I try being the good guy.
“You ready, princess?”
I can see the reluctance and fatigue in her soft blue eyes, but I don’t know how to make this any better for her. Women usually want romance and love, things this girl absolutely deserves. Things I can’t give her. All I can do is keep her safe from the mob until we can put this shitshow behind us.
“I’m ready,” she exhales shakily before I reach for one of her hands in silent comfort and support.
Father Charles launches into the beginnings of the wedding ceremony and I let his voice fade to the background. The resolve in Victoria’s eyes keeps me rooted in place, grounding me and giving me the assurance I need that I’ve made the right decision. I won’t regret saving her, whatever comes next.
I’m not sure how many minutes go by before Father Charles clears his throat, but finally I return to myself and direct my attention to the priest.
“The rings,” he murmurs with a nod and… Fuck, I forgot we need rings.
I become aware of the weight of my father’s ring wrapped around my left pinky. Mindlessly, I tug it off. It’s all I have to offer her, but I have to do something to make this legitimate.
Victoria quirks a brow, the corner of her mouth tugging up in the smallest of smirks. I’m not sure what else she thinks I should do—I’m working with limited resources here.
“Repeat after me,” The priest prompts, and I do, sliding the ring down her fourth finger. It’s far too big, the gold easily spinning around her delicate finger.
Father Charles turns his focus to Victoria and she slips her hand free of mine. Reaching for her ear, she unclasps one hooped earring before retaking my palm.
She studies my hand for a moment, and it’s quickly obvious that her earring won’t fit any finger except my pinky. Shifting her grip, she ignores where my father’s ring sat and opts to slide the loop of metal over my right pinky.
“Miss, it goes on his left?—”
“He’ll need to earn that right,” Victoria interjects and I lift a brow. What else am I supposed to prove to her? We’re either married or we’re not.
At least she trusts me enough not to go running off half-cocked next time she gets a wild hair.
I hope.
“Alright then,” Father Charles replies, clearly deciding this is not a battle he wants to pick with Victoria. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Moretti.”
I tower over Victoria and see the slight start of a blush spread across her cheeks as I lean closer.
She’s beautiful.
A perfect woman for any man, so long as he likes arguing. I can see how that sort of verbal sparring could be a turn-on, provided you can bend her over and fuck her into submitting, into obedience, when necessary. This isn’t that sort of arrangement, though. I ignore the prickles of regret that this marriage will go unconsummated.
Victoria may be my wife on paper, but I’m not built to love her the way she deserves. Not after all I’ve been through.
“Do I need to earn the right to kiss my wife, princess?” I question. I will respect whatever answer leaves her lips.
I’m not Liam.
I don’t need to force her to prove my claim. I’m better than that, a better man than my nephew will ever be.
“You just saved me from marrying your nephew,” Victoria concedes. “I think you’ve earned that and a ‘thank you’.”
“Anything for my princess, wife.”
Her lips part slightly and I don’t waste another second on conversation. I sweep my head lower and gently press my lips to hers.
Victoria tastes like sugar and sunshine, fresh and sweet and delightfully warm. A blend of crushed hopes and secret fears and an intoxicating thirst for life. I can’t help wanting more, to consume her entirely and steal that stubborn light for myself. My tongue glides against the seam of her soft lips, seeking entrance, delving deeper to see if there’s more hiding under that first taste.
My cock hardens, swelling the moment she surrenders and opens her mouth to me. It takes everything in me not to pull her closer, to resist the urge to crush her chest against mine. My body wants to twist this blasphemous sacrament into something real.
I can’t deny I’m attracted to her, this too-young chit who was calling me “professor” in front of her peers not even twenty-four hours ago. I would love nothing more than to see our wedding night to the logical end and seal our vows in bed.
But I won’t ruin any chance she might have to walk away from this. Our futures are still unpredictable. I’m waiting for a call from my contact in Italy to confirm the loan I requested. It’s not looking good. Hopefully he’s just on a job and chose not to carry his personal shit with him, but that still leaves Victoria and I in an incredibly tight spot.
With a gasp, my new wife breaks our kiss and takes a half step back. I don’t know if I’m more annoyed with her for ending it or with myself for taking things so far. I didn’t plan to get lost in kissing her. It just happened.
Victoria stares up at me through her lashes, an expectant look on her face. There’s no way I can take her back to her dorm room tonight. Obviously, Liam can get to her there and I won’t give him another chance to capture her or harass her. And it’s not like I can spend the night with her in the dorms or set up camp anywhere on school premises to guard her.
“You hungry?”
She shakes her head and I don’t push. Clasping her hand, I slowly escort her down the aisle. Liam’s weaselly accomplice is still glued to his seat, a better listener—or maybe just a bigger coward—than Victoria.
“What’s your name?” I bark out, suddenly filled with rage. This asshole shouldn’t have told Liam shit. Their supposed engagement didn’t give Liam the right to know what Victoria was up to. She still deserved respect and privacy. It wasn’t his secret to spill.
“Ch-Chase,” he stammers, not taking his eyes off my hands, clearly worried I’m going to decide to shoot him anyways.
“You ever rat my wife out again and I’ll kill you,” I warn, stopping when we’re standing in line with his pew. “For now, you should know I consider you in our debt for betraying her trust. But I can always act on that betrayal right now if you would prefer.”
“You can’t kill me in a church,” he whines. I can see why he’s Liam’s friend with that obvious sense of entitlement and epic stupidity.
“Would you like to watch me try? See if God steps in to save you?” His nostrils flare, but he’s smart enough not to mouth off again as he gives a slight shake of his head. “I’ll call you when I’m ready. If you mention my name or what happened here tonight, to anyone… Well, I don’t have a three-strikes rule. You won’t get a warning. Understood?”
“Fine.”
I’d love to teach the whelp some respect with a punch to the jaw, maybe a broken nose, but I refrain. My final goal for the night is to get Victoria somewhere safe so she can sleep and prepare for her classes tomorrow.
And we’ll need a car if we want to get anywhere tonight.