“Now, if you are done whining. We have a church full of people waiting to watch my son marry.”
“I’m surprised your son doesn’t burst into flames walking in here.”
His jaw ticks. “If you think my son is the devil, then you’re mistaken.” His eyes narrow. “He’s a pussycat compared to me.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
He shakes his head and holds out his arm. “Come now, Paisley.”
I swallow hard and walk toward him, taking his arm. His height is fear inspiring as he must be about seven feet tall, making me feel like a little mouse so close to him. “How tall are you?”
“Just over seven feet tall. No more talking,” he says, as he leads me out of the dressing room and toward the huge ornate oak doors that lead into the main church.
My heart pounds at a thousand miles an hour, as I don’t want to do this. The looming threat of the moment I’m shackled to a man I don’t want is growing ever closer, and I’m realizing there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Remy brings me to a stop and then the doors open, and the band begins to play the wedding march, drawing everyone’s attention to me.
He wasn’t joking when he said he had a church full of people to watch us marry. The place is packed, even people standing around the edges. “I can’t do this,” I mutter.
Remy’s gun cocks under his jacket. “You won’t make a mockery of my son in front of these people.” I feel the mouth of the gun against my rib as he forces it against me. “Now smile and look pretty, piccola.”
The press of the gun makes my heart rate speed up and adrenaline flood my veins, as I’ve never been so close to death before.
One wrong move, or an accidental slip from my future father-in-law, could end me.
I follow his lead, half-dragged down the aisle as I focus solely on the altar, making sure I don’t look at Massimo or any of the guests in attendance.
Mia is standing on the left side of the altar, where I will stand. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
I don’t smile back as my stomach is in knots. There’s no way I can smile today, as it’s the worst day of my life, ironically.
Once we get to the end of the altar, Remy exchanges an odd glance with Massimo, who clenches his jaw. I sense that he’s silently telling him I didn’t walk down that aisle willingly and to expect resistance.
Another man stands a short way away as Remy leans toward me. “I’ve got my gun on you and so does Alessandro over there. One wrong move or word and this might end in bloodshed.”
A shiver races down my spine as he places my hand in Massimo’s. I hate the way his touch sends a shot of electricity right through my veins, and I hate it even more when I look in those cruel, dark eyes and feel my heart rate quicken.
The officiant greets everyone in Italian, rather than English, and I stare at him, wondering what the fuck he’s saying.
And then I get the sense he’s starting the ceremony, but I can’t be sure. So, I just stare at the cocky, irritating face of Massimo Morrone, wishing I could punch him and wipe that smirk right off of it.
After a few minutes, the officiant glances at me. “I’ll switch into English now, as I believe the bride doesn’t know Italian.” There’s a look of disapproval when he says that. The ring bearer passes me a platinum wedding band.
“Do you, Paisley Mitchell, take Massimo Morrone to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, until death do you part, so help you, lord.” I hold the ring as expected to the tip of his finger.
My throat dries as I glance at Remy, who I can clearly see still has his hand on the gun under his jacket, pointing it at me discreetly.
His eyes narrow and then I glance at the other guy, Alessandro, who also appears to be holding something under his jacket.
Massimo squeezes my hand in warning and I return my attention back to the officiant rather than him. “I do,” I mutter, so quiet no one will have heard it in the audience, as I slide the ring onto his finger.
He nods his head in satisfaction. “And do you, Massimo Morrone, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, from this day forward, until death do you part, so help you, lord.”
Massimo’s smirk widens. “I do.” He slips the matching band onto my ring finger above the ridiculously lavish diamond engagement ring he gave me yesterday.
“Then, by the power invested in me by the almighty lord, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Massimo, you may kiss the bride.”
My stomach dips as he steps toward me. The thought of him kissing me here in front of all these people is enough to make my skin crawl and yet as I take a step back, my eyes connect with Alessandro’s, who gives a shake of his head.
Fucking bastards.