Broken Crown (Mafia Royals 5)

Everyone laughs, myself included.

“Okay,” I say because what else am I supposed to say in front of all the bosses? In front of all these people as he’s gripping my hands like he’s afraid to let go while the man I love watches me.

Protects me.

Fades into the background while my eyes lock onto King’s.

He’s smiling.

His lips are so full, and for some reason, I can’t stop looking at them while my heart whispers, maybe in another life, maybe in another time, he would be ours, you would be his.

“Del…” He says my name in such a soft yet powerful way that I can’t help but sigh. I can’t look away. I don’t want to. “It’s going to be okay.”

I almost choke. Did he just say what I think he said?

“It’s going to be okay,” he says again, his thumb starts to rub across my skin. “No matter what, I’ll protect you, I’ll honor you, cherish you. I’ll dream of you even if all we see are nightmares. Every love story is written differently. Some are painful at first, some are beautiful only to end in pain.” He looks over his shoulder at Sergio, a boss who lost his first wife to cancer. “And sometimes they just are what they are.” He brings both hands to his mouth, his lips descend; I feel the heat before they even touch my right hand, then my left.

My body shudders involuntarily—at least that’s what I tell myself as his mouth lingers.

A smirk escapes his lips as he looks over my shoulder. I know what he sees there.

Roman.

His smile falls, and so do my hands from his. I almost beg him to bring them back, to own the moment, to remind me again what we have, why we are doing what we’re doing.

“I just wanted you to know… that no matter what…” He closes his eyes and then leans in, bringing my forehead to his, gripping the back of my neck.

I don’t even realize we’re touching until the priest clears his throat, but I don’t jerk back. I stay there, in that sacred and holy moment where it’s just us.

Maybe we just are.

And maybe that’s okay.

“Until it ends. Until the end. Amen.” He pulls back. I’m not sure if anyone heard him, but it’s the same thing he said to me earlier, and for some reason, it feels private, like I don’t want people watching or listening.

My mouth moves without my permission. “Until it ends. Amen.”

The priest clears his throat again. “Do we have the rings?”

I shake myself out of the moment and take a step back, not because I need to get away from him, but because I’m afraid of what will happen by standing too close. I don’t even understand my own emotions right now.

I just need to get through this wedding and the next few days with King and our honeymoon.

Goosebumps rise over my arms.

Roman is watching while I marry someone else. How did this end up being my life? I lift my chin again, remembering Chase’s words as the rings are exchanged. I say the words, giving King my life, heart, and soul—forever and ever.

He doesn’t seem fazed; he just watches me intently like he’s searching for something he’s already found as I stare back, questioning if that thing is me and how it’s going to be okay if he wants me and I want someone else.

My chest aches.

Too soon, the priest ends the ceremony.

Too soon, he says the words solidifying me as King’s. “You may now kiss the bride.”

We’ve never kissed.

For obvious reasons.

It feels almost wrong.

I played a role for so long with Maksim in order to stay undercover for my family to help protect my friends and our name that they thought for the longest time I was this whore that just spread her legs when really Maksim and I faked it.

Roman and I have messed around.

But this? With King? This is it.

I lick my lips.

King’s head descends. I wait for it only to have him close in on my cheek while turning my head toward Roman and whispering, “It’s okay.”

He didn’t kiss me on my wedding day because he didn’t want to do it in front of the man I love. He respected us, respected the choice I’ve already made, which almost makes it worse as a tear slides down my cheek.

He catches it with his lips and then grabs my hand as we turn toward the sanctuary of people cheering.

I don’t feel happy.

I should feel ecstatic that we did it and that he didn’t even kiss me, but all I have is dread. We have to have a wedding night; there’s a blood oath over it for shit’s sake.

Maybe he knew it would be awkward to kiss me in front of Roman or hurtful. Maybe it’s easier on Roman to imagine King and me sleeping in separate beds like we’re from the fifties.