Father Michaels continues with his speech, about honoring and obeying, loving and cherishing. “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
And the truth is, I do love Giovanni. I cherish him. That’s not enough to make a marriage, not in this mansion, not in the life. What is honor when we’re violent murderers? What is obedience when we’re ruled by greed?
He squeezes my hand gently, his dark gaze unwavering.
“I do.”
Chapter Nineteen
A sense of numbness buoys me through the ceremony and the small, tense wedding lunch. Giovanni excuses himself to handle some business, and I say my goodbyes to Juliette. That leaves me alone in my bedroom, awaiting my wedding night like some terrified virgin.
“What do you think?” I ask softly. “Should I forget what he did and try to move forward with him?”
Lupo doesn’t move, just looks at me with those dark eyes. He was already sitting on the bed when I came in, having made himself comfortable. His tail is still tucked around his body, not wagging. He doesn’t trust me completely, but sharing this comfortable prison has brought us closer together.
“Still mad at me for trying to leave? I don’t blame you. But I would have come back for you, I swear.”
He rests his head on his paws.
I sigh and turn back to my drawing pad, where I’m shading his fur. There’s a lot of it, which makes it a fun and challenging exercise. Something that should take my mind off tonight but doesn’t.
“I’m giving up on men,” I say, putting down my pencil. “It’s dogs only for me. I’ll put a sculpture of you in the conservatory. What do you think?”
He growls low in his throat.
“Or maybe not.”
Then I realize someone’s coming to the door. Lupo growls and slinks off the bed to hide underneath.
The lock turns, and Maria walks in carrying a large white box with silver wrapping paper hanging off. She looks apologetic as she holds it out. “A wedding present from Juliette. Romero had to open it first.”
To check for weapons. So much for forgetting the past. I’m still living in it.
I take the box and push aside the wrapping paper. Sapphire satin cups nestle against thin tissue paper. Delicate cream lace lines the bottom and the straps. Oh God. She got me lingerie. For my wedding night.
A blush heats my cheeks. Romero and Maria saw this. “So I don’t even get privacy now?”
Humiliation burns, mixed with anger that I’m trapped here, that I gave up my one chance to escape for a man who died anyway. A man who was probably here to hurt me. Everything is twisted and upside down.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
“Don’t pretend like you care about any of this. You’re helping him keep me here.”
“He won’t hurt you.”
The frustration inside me hardens, sharpens. “That wouldn’t make it okay even if it were true. And it’s not. Tonight he’s going to consummate this marriage, whether I want to or not.”
Worry passes over her expression. “He…he wouldn’t.”
I laugh, rough and cold. “Then you’re even more naive than I am.”
That may not be who Giovanni was before. I know it wasn’t as well as anyone. But I saw what he was capable of last night. This place has changed him. I think it changed me too.
Running my hands over the satin, some of my anger dissipates, leaving only sadness. “What do you think this is for, Maria? A romantic evening between lovers?”
Even though my voice is softer, she flinches.
I lift the lace strap with my forefinger. It’s kind of a sweet present from Juliette, even if it is unexpected. As I pull the bra from the box, a slip of blue paper flutters to the bottom. A message. My gaze flies to Maria, but she’s crouched by the bed making soft noises for the dog. She didn’t see it.