Chapter 22 Kira
KIRA
Fairy lights twinkle softly across the hallway of Gem’s floor. It’s honestly astonishing how quickly she moved into this house and started to make it her own. But I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s always been this way, ever since we were kids. She can’t live in a place long without making it her own.
Her room’s filled with cozy pillows and new furniture. She might’ve gone overboard on the hanging plants and the vintage shawls, but it works for her. Gem’s super into the cozy chic right now.
And honestly, it’s the perfect atmosphere for me, since I’m on the verge of losing my damn mind and I need a little calm.
“Made you some tea.” She places it down beside me on the edge of her desk. “It’s Sleepy Time. I’m pretty sure anything stronger is going to set you over the edge.”
I chew on my lip, fidgeting like a crazy person. “Who’s downstairs? Anyone new?”
“Only Stellan and those two other guys. Matteo and Saverino? I don’t know, they’re being nice to me, but I get a weird vibe.”
She’s got no idea. Those two are definitely important insiders. I remember them from the church. Stellan referred to that group of asshole old Italian men as the council, which I guess is the leadership structure in his family.
No, scratch that.
I mean our family.
Because I’m about to become one of them.
“You sure you’re okay?” Gem looks concerned. She stands beside me in the mirror and leans her head on my shoulder. “You’re getting married, Kira. Shouldn’t you be happy?”
Somewhere, distantly, a little voice that sounds distressingly like six-year-old-Kira is screaming about my perfect imagined wedding day.
I can see heaps of flowers, a massive puffy dress, a cake in the shape of a castle—I'm really into princesses—and at least three white ponies, ideally a lot more.
That's not what we're getting here.
“It's honestly not what I always imagined,” I say, smoothing my hands over the simple white silk dress. It's a sheath, hugging my hips and bust. Gem picked it out, mostly because she's got better taste than me.
“So why are we doing this again?”
I can't look at her. Not even in the reflection. I've been struggling with whether or not I should tell her about what's going on. Her life's as much in danger as mine is now. My father is her father too. She deserves to go into this with clear eyes.
Only I know it won't help.
She's too damn smart. Gem can get me to do pretty much anything she wants. I know if I tell her about our father, about the Corsetti Famiglia, about his death and Stellan and the Turks, she'll talk me out of this in, like, ten seconds.
Which is probably a red flag, but still.
All my reasons for marrying Stellan remain. He's our fastest route to stability. He's my best chance at giving Gem a future without killing myself. So what if I have to risk my life to do it?
Despite everything, I trust Stellan to keep us safe.
“I'm doing this because he's going to make a good husband.” I try to smile. I probably look deranged. “And he's going to help put you through school.”
“We don't need him, Kira, you know that.”
“I need him.” I shiver slightly at the small mistruth. Is that even true? I definitely want him physically, but how does that translate? “This is going to be good. I'm just nervous, that's all.”
“Not much to be nervous about. As far as weddings go, this is as small as they get.”
“Oh, right, should we invite some more of our family?” I finally force myself to grin at my sister. “Should we call up Mom?”
Gem wrinkles her nose. “Can you imagine? She'd show up in a denim wedding dress and demand to take your place on the altar. Not even to get married. Just for the attention.”
“Then she'd end up passing out.”
“In the cake.”
“Death by fondant. What a way to go.”
“If only we were so lucky. She'd end up immune to drowning by dessert somehow. You know her.”
“Indestructible.” I hug Gem tightly to my side. “We're good. I'm good.”
“Sounds like you're doing a lot of convincing right now.”
I pick up the tea and sip it. I hope she doesn't notice the way my hands shake. “Before we go down there, I have one important question.”
Gem glances at the door. “What's that?”
“How's my groom looking?”
She laughs and tugs at her hair awkwardly. “You can't make me say. He's about to be my brother-in-law.”
“Come on. Tell me.”
“Stellan's the most attractive man I've ever seen in my life and he's looking like a movie star down there.”
I sigh and pretend to fan my face. “Lord have mercy. Now you get why I'm going through with this.”
“A pretty face? That's all it takes to get a ring on your finger?”
“And good muscles. The money doesn't hurt either.”
“My God, Kira, you're shallow!”
“Practical.” I finish the tea. I’m joking around to try to make myself feel more confident, but it’s not really working. “Come on, let’s get down there. I have a gorgeous man to marry.”
Gem doesn’t press anymore, which is a good thing. I’m not sure how much I could take if she decided to really pressure me into walking away.
I know the risk I’m taking. I just pray it doesn’t blow back to her.
Downstairs, I find the men waiting in the living room. They’re talking quietly over some glasses of what I assume is very expensive whiskey. My husband doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would drink the cheap stuff at his own wedding.
“There she is!” Matteo beams at me as I walk toward them. Stellan turns in my direction—and I swear, something passes over his expression.
It’s surprise at first. Followed by a ruthless, naked, unbridled hunger, like he’s been desperate and starving to see me in a wedding dress since we first met, and now he’s about to feast.
His gaze doesn’t pull away. “The priest is waiting,” he says, voice low and rumbling. “Matteo, Saverino, and Gem will be the witnesses.”
“No big ballroom and six hundred guests?” I ask him, only trying to tease. “You strike me as the kind of man who wants a public spectacle.”
Saverino barks out a laugh. “I like this one. Good choice in wife, Stellan. We all need a woman to keep us in check sometimes.”
He continues staring at me. “I prefer things to be simple. Just me and what’s mine.”
I shiver at the implication. What’s his is me in this scenario.
Gem interrupts the tension. “Should we get to it then?” she asks, looking around. “I mean, no time like the present?”
“Smart girl,” Matteo says happily. “Should I play the wedding march on my phone? Try to make this feel more—wedding-y?”
“No, thanks,” Stellan grunts, but he does offer me his arm.
I pause before taking it. This is probably my last chance to back out. Matteo and Saverino would probably help Stellan drag me out there, but maybe not in front of Gem. If I ran away, if I begged, I could get out of this nightmare.
But Stellan’s watching me. He’s holding out his arm, his muscular and incredible arm, and Gem was right upstairs.
He looks like heaven. His hair’s freshly cut and styled, and the stubble on his cheeks makes him look like he’s fresh off a movie set.
I don’t know how a vicious and dangerous man can be so obscenely attractive, but here he is, tempting me into all the wrong decisions.
I rest my hand on his bicep. We walk into the backyard.
The priest is an older man waiting on the porch. He smiles as we approach and spreads his hands. The folds of his robes fall open slightly, and I have the giddy thought that he might have a gun hidden in there. These are gangsters, after all.
But the priest is just a priest named Father John. He’s nice and likes bad jokes. I hate him immediately, nothing to do with him at all, but mostly because I think I hate everything right now.
I keep thinking about my father as the priest does his thing. There are a lot of words about God and faith and loyalty, and almost none of them penetrate.
Because these men killed my father.
That's what this boils down to. I'm the daughter of a traitor.
He stole from the Corsettis, tried to take their most important asset, and I still don't understand why.
I've been obsessing about it ever since Stellan told me the truth.
Why would Dad steal from his own people?
What would drive him to do such a thing?
And why would I want to go back to them after what they did to my daddy?
That's how I remember him. Still Daddy. That was slowly changing—more and more, I called him Dad—but when I needed something, like a hug, like comfort, like someone to talk to when I had a bad dream, he was Daddy.
And he was a good dad too.
Kind, patient, firm when he had to be, but I was a decent kid and didn't get in much trouble.
Stellan and the Corsettis took him away.
Matteo and Saverino could've pulled the trigger themselves for all I know.
Here I am, binding myself to them again. It didn't work out great for my father. Why do I think it'll work out better for me?
“You're shaking.” Stellan's grip on my hands tightens, and he leans forward. He whispers softly in my ear. “You'll be okay. It's almost done.”
I bite my lip. “I'm just nervous.”
“I know. You're scared. But you don't have to be, Kira. I'm here.”
That's the problem, I want to tell him, but he's being soft and kind. I don't even know why, but I grab on to that while I can. The priest is nearly at the end, and I'm desperate for him to finish.
The rings. The vows. I mumble the words, feeling foolish. Gem watches on, face impassive. Shouldn't there be tears? Shouldn't there be smiles? Everyone's so grim, myself included.
“This part's not strictly necessary, but that concludes the official part of the ceremony. Stellan, if you'd like, you may kiss the bride.” Father John steps back, glancing over at Matteo and Saverino, and I know he knows what's happening here.