Chapter 7
I kept to the shadows when I arrived at the church with my men spread throughout the dark alongside me.
My eyes narrowed on Ian standing at the altar with a merciless look on his face.
The beast inside me shook its cage to be released.
I clench my fists at my sides with my fingernails digging into my palms. I spin my head as the doors open and soft music plays.
The sun shines through the back of the church, creating a halo glow around Isabella, like a fallen angel whose wings do not need to be clipped but healed for her to fly.
My gaze travels over her body. At the way the dress hugs her curves in the right places.
Places that I cannot wait to explore with my hands and, tongue, and marks when she obeys me.
Her full breasts are contained behind the lace fabric of her dress.
Her chest rises and falls with each breath.
Her hair, dark as the night sky, is down in loose waves, draping over her shoulders.
The veil covers her beautiful face, shielding her from what is to come.
I watch her every moment as she walks. She grips her bouquet, making her fingers white, and I see her father whisper something in her ear.
Her posture stiffens and I hate the way how her father’s words can cut her. I suppress a growl.
They make their way to the front, where Ian is waiting. The look he had as she walked toward him was like watching a spider weave its prey into their web. Her hand slips into his before the priest begins his prayer.
I start to move along the darkened side of the church to where Isabella just exited from.
I step into the light while everyone has bowed their heads in prayer.
My feet carry me quietly down the aisle and stopping when her sapphire eyes meet mine.
The sides of my mouth pull into a small smile as I see her shake off whatever comment she heard from her father.
Her shoulders relax the longer she looks at me and the tension in her face softens.
And I ache. The control I have over her with just a look.
Ian’s gaze snaps to mine. His nostrils flare, face turns red, and his grip on Isabella’s hand tightens.
Father, standing in his white robe, purple sash hanging around his neck and down his chest. His glasses are too small for his old face and his white as snow hair is only around half his head with the top bald.
“Son, what brings you––––”
I stop midway in the aisle, one hand in my pocket and my other hovering over the front of the black suit jacket. “My deepest apologies, Father, to speak before you ask for any objections.” My voice echoes off all the stone columns in front. “This matter could not wait a second longer.”
Father tilts his head to the side right when I reach around my back to pull out my Glock and aim it at Ian.
Ian drops Isabella’s hand and goes to reach for his own gun.
Everyone in the pews is ducks down, guns are aimed everywhere from the men seated throughout, screams fill the room, and the Di Marco family stand and shout.
They don’t get very far. My men have exited from the shadows along the sides of the aisles.
Isabella is frozen in her place but keeps trying to look at her father, Don Costa, who, is just sitting there like it’s a normal fucking Sunday sermon at church while checking his watch.
At least this old bastard is holding his end of the bargain.
His sad excuse of a wife screaming, trying to get him to do something.
I pull the trigger, the pop makes a loud sound, Ian crashes down next to Isabella, covering her in his blood and she then lets out a scream from her lips.
Her white dress is painted with crimson red, and she looks fucking stunning.
There are little droplets on her face, her chest and her hands.
I breathe heavily though my nose at whose blood it is and not mine covering her.
When I look at her horrified, traumatized face, I knew in that moment I fucked up.
I was so wrapped up in wanting to get Ian the away from her, I didn’t realize killing him would make her get the fuck away from me.
Even now, she’s putting more distance between us.
Her bouquet falls out of her hands as she takes several steps back.
I walk up to the alter, nudge Ian with my foot to make sure he is in fact dead.
“You son of a bitch, Ricci. You will fucking pay for this. I will destroy you!” Don Di Marco roars reaching for his gun and aiming at my chest.
I laugh at his eagerness. “Very unlikely, old man.” My mouth turns up into a grin. “Do it and see what happens to your family, Di Marco. I have no problem killing you, your whole family and anyone who dares to cross me. Regardless of being in front of God himself.”
“You killed my son!” he seethes.
I step in front of him, the barrel of his gun pressing into my chest and my hand wraps around his throat. I squeeze cutting off the oxygen from his lungs to his brain. “She’s mine,” I grunt.
“You killed my son over a fucking whore?”
“You speak to my wife like that again, I will make sure there is nothing left of you. Nothing left of your family. I will kill every single person who belongs to your blood line and send every single one of you to hell.” I grunt.
My men and Di Marco’s all aim at each other waiting for the command from one of us to get the permission to start shooting. Angelo meets my gaze, who has his weapon on Di Marco’s second in command. I give him a simple nod to remove the rest of the Di Marco’s.
I return my gaze on to Isabella who is still in the same place. Father is shaking and silently praying to God.
I stride up to her and take her hand in mine.
She tries to pull hers out of my grip, but I tighten mine.
“Isabella, Amuri miu, if you want to keep your pathetic family alive.” I lean in with my lips grazing her ear, breathing in her lavender sweet scent.
“Don’t do something you will regret. Be a good girl and listen to Father. ”
She stills when my lips touched her ear. I could see her pulse beating faster in the nook of her neck. I had to push the urge down to drag my tongue over it. She reluctantly nods.
My eyes never leave hers when I cast over my shoulder to father, “As you were. My apologies for causing such a ruckus. Please, let’s continue.”
He opens his bible with shaky hands and begins with a trembling voice, “Do you,” his voice trembles as he looks at me, trying to ask for my name.
“Enzo Fredico Ricci,” I correct him a little irritated.
“Enzo Fredico Ricci, take Isabella Rose Costa to be your wedded wife? To hold, to honor, to protect, to love for all the days of your life?”
My thumb traces the back of her hand feeling her soft skin against my rough callous hands. “I do.”
He turns to Isabella and asks, “Do you, Isabella Rosa Costa, take Enzo Fredico Ricci to be your wedded husband? To hold, to honor, to protect, to love for all the days of your life?”
She says nothing and just stares at me, trying to decide if this is a dream or a nightmare or even real. But it is very real.
After what seems like an eternity, she responds so softly that I would have missed it if I was not watching her lips move. “I do.”
Father Roberto hands shake as he flip the page of the Bible. “The rings?” he asks.
My other hand slides into my pocket to pull out the red velvet box. I flip it open and hand it to Father Roberto.
He passes hers to me and mine to her. I spent weeks looking for the perfect ring.
After Costa agreed for me to marry Isabella, I wanted to have the perfect piece of jewelry.
It’s gold thin band, with two princess-cut diamonds on the side of the tear drop sapphire diamond in the middle.
The matching wedding band has five princess-cut diamonds in the center.
Isabella does not want the flashy and gaudy ring on her finger that is going to weigh her down like the one she had. This is a ring fit for a mafia queen.
One of my men drags Ian’s lifeless body toward the back door at the altar, leaving a blood trail with him. Angelo signals another one to lazily wipe up the mess Ian left.
I lift my hand to gently wipe the blood off her face and whisper, “I’m sorry that I messed up your makeup.”
Her face stills at my confession. I mean every single word. I’m truly horrified with myself on ruining any chance I have with her on creating chaos. Murder. Forcing her to marry me.
I pull her delicate hand up, slide off her current engagement ring and start to slide her forever one on her finger. She slides mine on as Father Roberto recites.
“Lord, let these rings, a sign of their faithfulness, remind them of their love for one another and recall the grace of the Sacrament Through Christ our Lord. Amen”
We both respond. “Amen.”
Father goes on to say, “The power vested in me by all Holy God and the state of Chicago, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Her eyes widen at his answer, and she tries to pull her hand out of mine. I tighten my grip. Her hand is warm against mine. The moment that my skin touched hers, I felt tightness in my chest.
I pull her in, she lets out a gasp, and I slide one arm around her waist. Reluctantly let go of her hand and place it on the nape of her neck.
I lean in, my eyes darkening as I watch her lick her soft, plump lips, a few droplets on my blood coating her bottom lip.
Her gaze is locked on me. I smirk before I crash my lips on to hers.
All the screaming, cancels out, leaving just me and my wife.
My tongue caresses her bottom lip making her open her mouth.
I slide my tongue in her warm, hot mouth demanding more.
I need more. Pulling her in close, she grips my suit jacket and lets out a soft moan.
The kiss is consuming. The kiss is demanding.
Fuck this woman. Then she bites down on my bottom lip breaking the skin, and I let out a deep growl.
She breaks the kiss, leaving us both breathing heavy, and me with a raging hard-on.
“I couldn’t resist kissing those lips,” I mumble hoping she did not hear me.
Her face reddens at my confession, and I chuckle, removing my hand from her neck and I drag my thumb across her bottom lip to collect my blood and smear it all over to stain them. “I prefer my blood on you, and it will be the only blood that touches your skin.”
“Dad, are you just going to sit there?” I hear Isabella’s sister yell at her father.
Isabella turns to look at her sister who is crying next to the podium.
Isabella shakes her head to let it go. But the look on her sisters face is anything but wanting to let it go.
I peer out of the corner of my eye and see her brother’s face is red from holding in his anger.
He glares at me, sending imaginary bullet into my head, I’m sure.
He’s not the only one, and he would need to get in line.
Their father ignores everyone around him. Ignores the screaming from Di Marco and his family. Costa stands up, his men around him as he goes to leave with his son behind him. Mrs. Costa ushers for her youngest daughter to follow her.
She stops before leaving. “Isabella, you can wipe that horrible look off your face and be grateful a more powerful, handsome man has agreed to marry someone like you. Honestly, you should be thanking your father for this.” Her voice is dripping with annoyance and the need to point my gun at her and blow her head off is an urge I have to push down.
“Lucia, stop making a scene. You’re embarrassing yourself and us more than Isabella. ”
Lucia pauses, looks at Isabella with a sadness before she follows her parents.
Her brother, Joesph stops and nods his head before leaving.
Isabella gaze follows them as they are leaving, and I slip my hand into hers.
She whips her head to me with a look of anger and hatred at me.
I lace our fingers together and I grip on to her hand, so she does not try to wiggle out of my grasp.
I tug her down the aisle with me to leave the church my men are still barricading the Di Marco’s and making sure no one approaches or interrupts. Angelo is at my back and two of my men at my front. My other, my trusted men open the door leading us out front to my black SUV.
“I want Eduardo watched to make sure he does not try to retaliate. I have suspension that snake is going to want to revenge his sick piece of shit son’s death.” I grunt to Angelo.
He nods his head in agreement as he opens the door, and I usher Isabella to climb in first and I follow. The door shuts, Angelo whispers in Dante’s ear before leaving to instruct my men on my orders. Dante gets into the driver’s seat.
Isabella wraps her arms around herself, her eyes looking out the black out, bullet proof windows with her body pressed against the door. She does not want me near her. Too fucking bad since she is now my wife.