Chapter 28
Enzo
An unsightly groom stared back from the mirror. Days of stubble shadowed my face, unkempt hair screaming for a trim. I hadn’t done much besides wallow in bed since dropping Gemma at the airport.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pushed aside the sharp sting of her memory. On our wedding day, she’d refused to style her hair or apply makeup. Heck, she refused to wear her dress. Now her turmoil made complete sense all those months ago, and here I stood, mirroring her rebellion.
The door creaked open. Carina stood there, a ghost of a smile on her face, holding a small velvet box. She stepped inside and shut the door; the click echoing in the small room like the slam of a prison cell. Prison? That’s what this marriage would be… my prison.
“Here are the rings,” she said, her voice strangely strained.
She took hold of the jewelry with trembling fingers.
Her hand hovered over mine, but she enclosed the rings into her fist, hesitating.
Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, filled with deep, unsettling sadness. “I… I can’t do this to you, Enzo.”
My brow furrowed. “Can’t do what?”
Her eyes widened, as if snapping back to reality.
She swallowed visibly; the movement pronounced in her throat.
The brief flicker of vulnerability vanished, replaced by her guarded expression.
“Never mind,” she said, too quickly, her gaze darting away.
She opened her palm, dropping the rings in my hand, her touch fleeting.
Two gold rings. Wedding bands. A knot of anxiety lodged in my throat.
A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, almost like she wanted to say more but couldn’t bring herself to.
She turned toward the door and paused. Her hand hovered over the door handle for a good second or so.
“See you out there,” she called over her shoulder, her voice lacking its usual conviction, before she flung the door back and disappeared out of the room.
I examined the rings in my hand, one of which I’d have to force onto my new bride’s finger.
I curled my first into a ball, hard enough for the two gold bands to indent my palm.
My ring belonged to Gemma alone, no one else.
But what other choice did I have? If I bailed on this ceremony, I jeopardized her safety, my family’s safety.
Several minutes later, Lucio rushed in and locked the door in a hurry. I met his wide-eyed stare in the mirror. “You’ve rushed in here like thugs are chasing you.” Then again, the De Lucas were here—high chance those mafiosi scum were chasing him. And I was about to marry into their fold.
Putting a ring on my finger didn’t mean I’d trade Milan for Sicily and become their errand boy. This marriage was a means to an end, nothing more.
“Enzo.” Lucio straightened from the door. “Have I got news for you!”
So it begins. “The bride’s arrived?”
Lucio waved a dismissive hand. “No, forget the bride for a minute.” He grinned wide, eyes sparking with mischief.
“I just heard something… something that changes everything. If you could walk out of here right now, no consequences. Would you go after her? Tell me the truth.” He gripped my arms. “Would you?”
I scoffed, yanking free of his grip and tugging at my tie. Thanks for rubbing salt into my wound, brother. “There’s no ‘walking out of here,’ Lucio. You know that.”
“But if there was?” Lucio pressed, his eyes pleading. “If I could make it happen…”
I blinked at him, suspicion warring with a flicker of hope.
“Of course. Even now I’m tempted to fly to Australia, but what mess would I leave behind?
This church will burst into a bloodbath with both enemies at each other’s throats.
” I extended my palm to uncover the rings.
“This here is my shackle. No one leaves here alive unless I walk out wearing this on my finger.” I mashed my lips together and flicked my head.
“I have to do this for you, for Carina… and for Gemma.”
Lucio bared his teeth. “You’re worried about Carina, after everything she’s done to you?”
Moments ago was the first time I’d spoken to my mother since our exchange on the stairs, the ugly truth about my conception, my main reason for keeping my distance.
Regardless of all she’d done, I witnessed the pain and shame in her eyes.
My mother was a broken woman. A woman with scars so deep, I feared they might never be healed.
Honor your mother and father. I’d read the verse in her bible.
In fact, I’d read a page each night since she left.
Lucio had forgotten to pack it with her things at the hospital.
Thank God he had. It was my one remaining connection to her.
I didn’t know if I could ever live up to the verse, or anything else in the Bible, considering I’d killed my biological father, and my pain made any relationship with my mother impossible. But for Gemma’s sake, I’d try.
“We’re not two little boys wishing for their mother to return for us.
We’re men now, Enzo.” He shook my shoulders.
“Nothing will ever alter our sad childhood. Carina can’t fill the void from all those lost years.
” His lips twisted into something resembling a laugh, but his eyes remained cold.
“And what happened after you vowed to avenge her? We moved to America and were shipped off to boarding school. Instead of treating us like sons, she avoided us. I don’t ever remember her behaving like our mother. ”
He was right, except for… Warmth bloomed in my chest, a memory fighting its way to the surface, a defiant rebuttal to Lucio’s bleak pronouncement.
“Higher, mamma, higher.” I beamed back at my laughing mother pushing me on the swing. Her long dark hair swayed in the breeze, and her hazel eyes alight with joy.
“Look at your brother, Lucio?” Mamma bounced my two-year-old brother on her hip. “Look at how high he flies?”
I gripped the chain in one hand and outstretched the other, feeling the wind tunnel between my small fingers. “I want to reach the moon.”
“You will one day, Enzo.” Mamma gave me another firm push. “One day, you’ll do everything your heart desires.”
I blinked out of the flashback. “You were too young, but she’d been an incredible mother, the most wonderful mother you could ever imagine before Elisabetta Russo emerged onto the scene.
” Our mother stopped showing us affection when her husband paid her less and less attention.
And once she discovered his affair, there’d been no chance of reclaiming the mother we lost.
“Gemma provides something far greater than whatever scrap of affection Carina can offer.” He extracted the rings from my palm. “Now, be my best man, then go get your girl. Don’t blow it again.”
What game did he play? He planned on replacing me as groom? “Lucio, the De Lucas are expecting me.”
“No, they’re not. They don’t care who marries the De Luca girl.”
The space between my brows pinched together. “But Carina said—”
“She lied.” He sighed in a defeated way, as if exhausted by our mothers’s antics.
“The original peace deal involved returning some ring belonging to Vito. Apparently, that’s all Nicolo cared about.
I bet Carina negotiated the marriage deal.
” He thumbed over his shoulder. “De Luca doesn’t care who marries the girl—you, me, even one of Tommaso’s sons would do.
But Carina…” He shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips.
“Typical Carina. She saw a chance to manipulate you both.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Lucio, how…?”
He nodded toward the door at his back. “She and Tommaso were talking about it in the hallway.” He tucked the rings into his pocket and patted them. “Come on. Let’s have the last laugh. I’m sure Carina will gawk like a stunned mullet once she sees me at the altar instead of you.”
Hope flared, tentative. “Are you sure? You haven’t met this woman. Not only haven’t you seen her, you’ll be stuck in this marriage for life as Nicolo De Luca’s in-law.”
Lucio shrugged. “So? You married Gemma without knowing her. This could work.”
“That’s different.” I extended my hands. “Besides… Gemma and I were a disaster for weeks before things turned around. You’ll hate this.”
“Hate it more than watching you slowly die inside? Please. You’ve been there for me my entire life. You’re the only family I’ve ever known. Let me do this for you.”
I searched his gaze for any sign of reluctance, but found only fierce determination. “There’s a side exit down the corridor.” Over my dead body would I let my brother sacrifice himself for my sake. “We could disappear, but we must leave now.”
He shook his head. “Think, Enzo. If we humiliate the De Lucas at the altar, the peace treaty goes up in flames. Do you want to rehash this war?”
“We could be halfway to Australia by morning,” I argued, my voice dropping to a desperate whisper, refusing to give up hope.
He gripped my shoulders, his eyes locking with mine.
“It’s too late. The guests are waiting. They’re expecting a groom.
Let it be me.” He clapped me on the back.
“Besides,” he added, a playful wink returning to his eyes, “I’m not sticking around in Sicily.
I have my life in Lombardy. Don’t fret, fratello … I won’t become one of them.”
I stared at the floor. “By now Carina would have made clear I’m the groom. De Luca might still be expecting me.”
Lucio patted my shoulder. “Leave it to me. I have an idea.”
I trusted his playful wink and followed him out the door, a sliver of hope battling the familiar dread that things were moving too smoothly. When did anything ever go right for me and Gemma without a hefty price?