10. The Wedding #3
The kiss is lightning. It’s electric and it burns. I sizzle and bend and give myself over. It’s everything a church kiss shouldn’t be. It’s filled with promise, wet and horrible promise.
Then it breaks apart, and everyone’s standing and clapping, and Kennedy leads me back into the waves of grinning bastards as the wedding churns over into the lavish reception.
Adriano
Fucking married .
I sit at the bar with Lev and Luca, drinking while the two of them trade war stories. Carmie’s with Bianca; the two of them are probably harassing guests into following some strictly defined entertainment schedule.
I don’t know where my wife is.
I don’t know why I care.
There are fifty hardened mafia men hanging around the Crystal Tea Room, plus a dozen more bodyguards assigned to the high-society bastards. There’s no way a Gray Wolf assassin could get anywhere near her.
Except something keeps itching down my spine. I want her here, right next to me, where I can make sure she’s safe.
That fucker Demir got under my skin, which is probably exactly what he wanted when he approached earlier.
A steady stream of Capos, made men, and society people stop by to congratulate me. I shake hands, exchange pleasantries and business cards, and do my best to be professional.
All the while, I’m smoldering inside.
“You look like you need a break,” Lev says, grinning like this is the most fun he’s had in forever. Knowing that crazy Russian, it probably is.
“What I need is another drink.” I gesture for more whiskey. It’s good, but not as good as that hundred-year stuff Bianca swindled from me earlier. “Has anyone seen Lucille?”
“I can go find her if you want,” Luca offers.
But before I can tell him to do it, Bianca comes hustling through the crowd. She’s saying something into a headset, her expression grim. “We need you,” she says. When I don’t react, she nudges my shoulder. “Right now.”
“I didn’t realize you were talking to me.”
“Hilarious. It’s time for your first dance.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Don’t be difficult,” she says through her teeth. “Get your ass up.”
I’m about to tell her off, but I stop myself. First dance means I’ll be with Lucy. And if she’s in my arms, nothing can touch her.
Reluctantly, I get up. Bianca seems surprised that I’m not fighting harder.
“Well? Let’s fucking get this over with.”
“Good luck, big guy,” Lev says pleasantly. “Have fun.”
I ignore him and follow my sister toward the dance floor.
My head’s a buzz of conflicting emotions.
I’m thinking of my father in his wheelchair.
I’m thinking of the same wheelchair waiting for me.
I’m thinking of a family, of children, of Demir and his threats, of that lying witch Helena Willing-Morris.
But all that leaves my head when I spot my wife waiting for me all alone.
Fuck. She’s perfect.
There are beautiful flowers on every table. Streams of expensive lights dangle from the ceiling. Real cut crystal glasses are passed around. The room is the definition of gorgeous opulence.
It all pales compared to her.
Lucy’s immaculate. She’s small, almost dainty. The little strands of extra hair frame her pretty face. Her big eyes stare into mine, almost defiant. I think of her mouth wrapped around my dick, her spit dangling down toward the floor.
“Let’s get this over with,” she murmurs as I take her into my arms.
“You in a rush to go somewhere?” I mutter back.
The song starts. It’s “At Last” by Etta James. I glance over at my sister and she’s watching with a scowl as she barks into her headset. I’m sure she picked the music.
“Just looking forward to the rest of my life, that’s all.”
I tug Lucy closer. She yelps slightly with surprise as our bodies press together. “And here I am, only looking forward to tonight.”
Her cheeks turn pink as she stares down at the floor. “Don’t talk like that right now.”
“What? You don’t want me to embarrass you?”
“Not in front of these people. They’re all just waiting for me to screw up.”
That’s a surprise. I glance around us and she’s right. Everyone’s watching intently. But I just assumed they’re as taken with her as I am. “Why do you think that?”
“These people turned on my family the second they smelled blood in the water. They’re just a bunch of hungry sharks. They’re only here because it’s some big social event.”
“I thought they were your family friends.”
“Not even slightly.” She laughs bitterly. “Some of them used to be my friends, but then the big scandal broke.” She lowers her voice in mock horror. “The Willing-Morris hedge fund is nearly out of money. They’re a bunch of frauds.”
I hold her tighter. “Imagine, a bunch of rich people are shallow about money.”
“Great, you can make jokes and laugh at me too, but they tore into me. When it all came out, I was nothing to them. I was less than nothing. And then my parents—” She stops herself.
I know her mother and father had an accident and died suddenly, but I don’t know the details about what happened.
She shakes her head and glares up at me, her eyes shining with tears.
“I just want to get this over with, that’s all. ”
Well, fuck. I had no clue. I knew her family was on the outskirts of the social world and had lost considerable sway thanks to their financial scandal, but I didn’t realize how personal it had gotten.
But to her, that’s all it could be. This is her life, and these were her friends.
“Fuck them,” I say and find myself meaning it. I grip her hard, feeling her warm body. “If any one of them dares laugh at my wife, I’ll break their fucking neck.”
“Oh, yeah? Is my big bad mafia husband going to kill every single rich asshole in Philadelphia?”
“If I have to.”
She laughs, but it’s lighter this time. “I almost like the idea.”
“Good. You’re mine now, Lucy. You’re my wife. And nobody laughs at you, not ever again.”
“It’s cute you think that.” She leans into me and stares off across the crowd. “I just hate how fake this is. None of this is real, and it’s like I’m just drifting through someone else’s story.”
I hold her as we sway together, rage boiling in me. “What’s real to you then?”
“I don’t even know anymore.”
“Is this real?” I grip her hips tighter, digging my fingers into her skin.
“That’s real,” she whispers.
“What about this?” My hands move to the small of her back. I lean down to whisper in her ear. “Is this real?”
“I think so.” She shivers, trembling in my arms. “Only I don’t know if I should want it.”
“There’s no such thing as should in this world.”
I want to tell her expectations only matter so long as she cares about them, but before I can say anything else, a sudden, intense boom rips through the building, and the whole room sways.
Glasses fall from tables and shatter on the floor.
Women scream, and several men shout in surprise as the lights flicker and the chandeliers shake wildly.
I think it’s an earthquake, but it ends as quickly as it arrived.
There’s panic as people look around, and some of my men go running to the door. I spot more than a few guns drawn.
I grab Lucy and hold her tight against me. “I’ve got you,” I say, looking around for an invisible threat. An old woman is being helped up beside a nearby table. Several of the food stations tipped over, spilling hors d’oeuvres all over the floor.
Bianca comes running over, her face pale.
“What happened?” I bark at her.
She’s listening to her headset. “There was… an explosion. Downstairs. I think…” Her eyes go wide. “It was a car bomb. The first floor is a total wreck. I think the building’s on fire.”
Lucy
I didn’t have high hopes for my wedding day.
This is definitely worse than I thought.
Panic slices through the ballroom. It’s like a physical ripple as people begin to understand what’s going on.
Adriano barks orders, and soon we’re surrounded by a dozen armed men, all of them looking grim.
His sister’s with us in the middle of the group, talking away on her headset, her face grim and afraid.
“Stay next to me,” he says, pulling me closer against him. He takes my hand and clamps down. “Don’t move more than six inches away.”
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know.” He nudges his sister. “Bianca, update.”
“Fire department is on the way.”
“Are there people downstairs?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” She chews her lip, looking around, and lowers her voice. “Dead ones, I think.”
“Get to the fucking stairs. Move!”
The group starts hustling. Adriano keeps me right against him. The crowd of rich society wedding guests parts like a wave at first until they begin to realize what’s happening. The elevators aren’t working, and the stairs are their only way out of this burning building.
“Get the fuck out of our way,” Adriano roars when there’s a stampede toward the emergency exit. “Shoot them if you have to! My wife is all that matters.”
One of the guards slams an old rich man aside.
He crumples, crying out in despair and pain.
His expensive watch can’t help him as he’s stepped on by the crowd that follows.
It’s amazing how all their wealth and power count for nothing in this situation.
They’re all just people, and people panic when bad things happen.
We reach the stairs. Adriano’s men keep shoving, kicking, and punching viciously to make room. I’m dragged along, feeling confused and overwhelmed. “Where’s my grandmother?” I call out. “What about my brother? Where’s Kennedy?”
“No time for them.” Adriano’s face is stone. “No time for anyone else but you.” He slams his knee forward, shoving through the bottleneck of guards. He surges ahead, pulling me along.
“No, please, you have to help Kennedy. Please! We can’t leave her!” I whimper as I’m dragged through the crowd, Adriano’s powerful body making a path for us among the terrified people.
He snags one of his guards. “Find the maid of honor. Protect her with your life. Move!” He shoves the man away as he wades forward.
I choke back a sob, looking around wildly for her, but I can’t find Kennedy anywhere.
It’s chaos and craziness, a stampede of terrified humans in a cramped stairwell, and Adriano fights his way through it.
We wind our way down and down until finally, the bottom floor is just ahead.
“Fire!” someone wails from ahead. A woman has the door open. Half her face is burned, her ear a melted mess of dripping flesh, and her clothes are singed so badly they’re stuck to her body in places. “Oh, God, please, help!”
“Luca,” Adriano yells over his shoulder. “Get everyone out! Help that woman!”
His guards shift from forcing their way ahead to acting as shepherds. Adriano lunges through the door, moving past the burned woman, keeping me close. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs in my ear.
The lobby ahead is in total chaos. Smoke curls thick into the air.
Debris is scattered all over. Glass glitters on the ruined floor.
Fire consumes the shape of a wrecked car, licking at the tall ceiling and the huge front windows.
The welcome desk is splinters, and the guard working there is likely dead.
Adriano stops for nothing. He kicks his way forward through the mess, gun drawn now.
As he reaches the door, he pauses and holds me back, peering out into the night.
Nothing happens. Nobody moves. There’s yelling from behind us as the guests begin to follow, and a crowd forms on the sidewalks, watching in horror.
“As soon as we’re out of here, you start running. Do you understand?” He looks back over his shoulder. “Luca, damn it! Where’s my sister?”
“She’s with me!” a man calls back from somewhere on the other side of the smoke. “We’re coming!”
Adriano nods to himself, staring ahead angrily. “Are you ready?”
“I’m in heels,” I whisper, heart racing wildly. There’s no way I’m running anywhere, not in these shoes. I can barely walk in them.
Without hesitating, he scoops me up into his arms. Luca and Bianca appear with a gaggle of other survivors, the burned woman included.
I’m in shock from the attack, choking and coughing from the smoke, trying to process this behavior from my husband. No part of me ever envisioned he’d turn into some ultra-protective pit bull under these circumstances, but suddenly, I’m the center of the world.
It’s terrifying and exhilarating. I’ve never been this important to someone before, and I don’t know how to behave.
All I can do is lean closer to him as he holds me in his arms.
Then Adriano bursts out into the night. He sprints forward like I’m nothing.
Wind whips through my hair as he careens down the front steps past the astonished onlookers.
Ahead, a town car is parked against the curb, and he heads straight for it.
Once the door’s open and I’m unceremoniously dumped inside, he gets around to the front and climbs behind the wheel, pausing only to let Luca get in the passenger seat and for Bianca to get in beside me.
“Hold on,” Adriano says and peels out. “Bianca, radio back to the venue. Now that Lucy’s safe, tell our men to help with the evacuation.”
“Got it,” she mutters and relays the message into her headset. Then she takes it off. “A car bomb wasn’t part of my itinerary.”
It’s such an absurd thing to say that I can’t help but laugh.
I burst out laughing. I double over, laughing so hard that tears roll down my cheeks, and I realize I’m sobbing too.
Bianca rubs my back. Adriano stares ahead, driving through the quiet Philadelphia streets.