Chapter 8
Valentina
Papa offered me his arm, and I took it, making sure that I held on tight to the bouquet of red roses in my hands.
I took the first step hesitantly as emotions washed over me.
Glancing at my father for strength, I tried to read the expression on his face, but I couldn’t.
Papa’s face was unreadable, showing neither joy nor regret at this arrangement.
Enzo was convinced that my father had sent a killer to set fire to the wood shed at the safehouse, but Enzo had no proof.
Now, as I searched my father’s eyes for answers, I saw nothing that would give him away.
Was Enzo right? Was my father truly capable of sending an assassin to get rid of my fiancé?
Just the thought tore my heart to pieces.
If my father no longer consulted me about something as important as a hit job, especially one against my own would-be husband, then Papa was running the show entirely on his own without my input.
It was as if my services as the head of his New York operations were no longer needed.
My days as his most trusted confidante would be over and every scrap of power I had earned would have come to nothing.
I would truly be nothing more than a mafia wife with no power to speak of.
All hopes of becoming my father’s second-in-command completely dashed.
Despite knowing in my head that was what this marriage was designed for—to strip me of any chance at being second—ordering a hit without my say would be such a clear message that it was tantamount to betrayal.
If Enzo could betray me, then why not my father?
As I held onto my father’s arm, I tried to banish the terrible thoughts now plaguing me.
For all I knew, Enzo had planted the idea in my mind to turn me against my father.
It would be clever to put the Romanos at odds in order to use the chaos and division to seize power for the De Lucas.
Here I was, on my wedding day, trying to figure out if it was my father who was betraying me, or if it was my fiancé sticking the knife in my back even now. Two men I loved with all my heart, yet I didn’t know which one to trust.
With a heavy heart, I took another step, then another.
I stared across the church at Enzo, desperately looking for some kind of anchor through this emotional storm.
His face was just as unreadable as my father’s.
There was nothing to signal what he was thinking one way or the other.
If he was pleased that his plan to use me was on the verge of success, he didn’t show it.
I heard a collective gasp from the assembled crowd as everybody turned to look at me. There was approval in their eyes—even from Enzo’s parents, who didn’t take their eyes off me for a second.
Swallowing hard, I glanced around the church, searching for anyone who might be secretly working to hurt my family or Enzo’s.
I thought back to all the violence and chaos that had nearly ruined us ever since I met Enzo.
There had been the mole feeding information about us to law enforcement, the assassin who shot my father, the car fires at the De Luca dealership, the bank bombing, those threatening text messages sent to Enzo’s phone, the attempted poisoning at the food tasting, and finally, that awful fire in the woodshed.
Who could possibly want me, Papa, Enzo, and both families destroyed?
I turned to my cousin Frankie, standing with the other groomsmen. Frankie had every reason to want me out of the picture so he could seize power and become second. Right now, my cousin was smiling at me, seemingly trying to give me encouragement as I took my final steps to a new life.
From one of the pews, I saw Enzo’s uncle Claudio, who would want revenge for my family daring to cut off his hand in the most gruesome manner imaginable.
Claudio wasn’t smiling. Instead, Enzo’s uncle was glaring at me with pure hatred in his eyes.
Enzo had written his uncle off as too stupid and cowardly, but sometimes family missed things about loved ones that they didn’t want to see.
If Claudio blamed my family, along with Enzo, for not protecting him from losing his hand, that might have been enough for him to come after everybody.
Finally, my eyes landed on Enzo’s valet McClain, sitting way at the back stone-faced. McClain was a military veteran with the know-how to sneak into an apartment to kill, but he wasn’t as young and in shape as he used to be. Plus, there seemed to be no motive on his part.
There I was, surrounded by men I couldn’t trust. Part of me felt trapped and helpless.
At the mercy of traitors and killers hiding in plain sight.
Despite being fenced in by potential enemies, though, that didn’t mean that I needed to leave everything to external forces.
While my grip on power was slipping, I had my own inner strength.
A strength that I didn’t get from the men around me, but from myself.
This wasn’t the kind of courage that was granted by others.
This power that was rising came from within.
No one could give it to me or take it away.
Holding my head up high, I started walking steadily down the aisle, my heart pounding, but still refusing to shrink away from what needed to be done. Even with diminished power and betrayal all around me, I wasn’t going to give up on protecting the people that I loved.
The thought of my loved ones pushed me to look directly at Enzo.
That unreadable look on his face had changed.
Now, he was gazing at me with something that seemed like awe.
A reverence that stunned me and left me breathless.
There was no regret in his eyes. No anger.
Only this adoration that was bringing me back to life.
When our eyes met, I felt my breath hitch.
Had something changed between us? It seemed impossible and yet, as I gazed back at him, I could no longer will myself to pretend.
All the love that I had tried to hide from him swirled inside of me with such force that I knew I must have radiated the feeling.
The barbed wire of anger that had wrapped so tightly around my heart began to give, unfurling as it dislodged itself and set me free.
As I came to a stop in front of Enzo, I saw the way he refused to take his dark eyes off me.
“You look beautiful,” he said in a low tone, so that only I could hear.
My heartrate sped up in spite of any good sense.
The compliment made me feel like I was dancing on air.
As the music died down, I felt my knees go weak, and as if he could tell, Enzo reached out unlace my fingers from around the bouquet and take one of my hands in his.
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. He was being so kind and attentive to me.
Like he had been long before I discovered that it was all fake.
I remember the day in his apartment when he’d asked me if I had any food allergies.
Just a routine question, but it had told me so much about him.
I must have fallen in love with him unwittingly when he asked that question.
I had been so caught off guard by it that I let him in by accident and nothing was ever the same.
The priest started speaking, but I barely heard any of it.
I just kept my eyes on Enzo, watching as a faint smile played on his lips.
Watching in complete shock as he brought my hand to his lips so that he could kiss my wrist. There was an audible sigh of emotion from the guests and I almost gasped.
With Enzo holding onto my hand, the priest continued until it was time for us to repeat after him, saying our vows in front of both our families.
Finally, the priest instructed us to seal our vows with a kiss.
Enzo wrapped his arm around me to draw me closer.
Before I could catch my breath, I felt his mouth on mine, searing me right through with a kiss that melted me.
I wrapped my free arm around his broad shoulder, clinging to him as the fire of the kiss consumed me.
Heat rippled outward, rising up to burn all my doubts and fears away.
The kiss was pure fire, awakening the parts of me I thought I’d lost since I learned of his schemes against me.
Enzo’s kiss turned demanding and possessive, revealing just how desperately he wanted me.
As desperately as I wanted him. He seemed to be claiming something as his tongue stormed my mouth.
You are mine and no one else’s, his kiss seemed to be saying to me.
For the first time in weeks, I felt something I never thought I’d ever feel again: hope.
Hope that maybe, even if he couldn’t love me, he could set aside his scheme and we could be at peace.
A companionship built on mutual respect, and understanding that trying to outdo each other was never going to work.
At the very least, we could decide once and for all to no longer be enemies.
Maybe that would be enough for my poor broken heart.
Enzo broke the kiss and we both turned to face the crowd of guests, many of whom had started clapping and whooping.
I couldn’t help but smile. The applause didn’t surprise me.
We were Italians after all, we wore our hearts on our sleeves.
And now, instead of being two warring families, we were one big Italian family.
That realization nearly knocked me off my feet as Enzo started to head back down the aisle, still holding my hand. We were husband and wife now.
As we walked toward the exit, hand in hand, my heart started to rise a little.
Hope was swirling all around me as I saw the relief and, in some cases, joy of my family members.
My mother was giving me an encouraging smile while Papa gave a nod of approval in my direction.
A couple of my cousins gave me a wink or a thumbs up.
I was almost giddy as I walked toward the exit, Enzo never letting go of my hand.
When we reached the exit, the double doors of the church swung open and we stepped outside, where onlookers happily threw soft flower petals at us. The fragrant scent of the roses made my head spin. We had actually done it. We’d gotten married and brought us all one step closer to peace.
But then, I heard a popping noise. Then cracks in quick succession. Followed by screams as the onlookers outside rushed for cover. Everything was pure chaos. Without warning, Enzo released my hand to push me backward with the weight of his body.
I cried out. It was only as I stumbled toward the stone steps that I recognized what that popping noise was. It was the sound of gunfire.