DOMINIC
Irocked back and forth on my heels in the clearing, dressed in an all-black Bespoke suit, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Levin stood beside me in his suit as the priest trembled on my other side. I needed the old fuck to make it through this wedding without him having a heart attack. The way he was shaking and gasping, I wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped dead at my feet, and not because I shot his ass.
I’d given Stella the task of creating an aisle with candles and rose petals for Bianca to walk down, my sad attempt at making this special for her. I trusted Levin bought her a stunning dress because I knew she'd be upset if she had to wear my white t-shirt on her wedding day instead of something she felt beautiful in.
She was going to hate me after this. I knew that much. Hell, she probably hated me now, but I promised myself I’d try to fix this shit and make it up to her. I didn’t know how, but I was good at making shit up on the fly. Hopefully, this time would be no different.
Stella moved to sit on a tree stump, her arms crossed.
“Go make sure Bianca doesn’t need anything,” I said to her.
“She threatened to choke me with a hot curling iron. I’m not going back in there.”
I suppressed a smile. Of course, she did. That’s how my queen should be. “Go. If she tells you no, then you stay inside and wait for our return. I don’t want you out here agitating her.”
Stella rose and gave me a sour look but left the clearing.
“Where is she?” I asked softly, staring at the path that cut from the safe house to the clearing.
“Probably gutting Vincent,” Levin said with a grunt.
Probably. I’d seen how fucked up his face was from her forehead smashing into it. My wasp had a wicked sting. It only made me want her more. I supposed that said something about how fucked-up and twisted I was.
We waited in silence for a few more moments before movement on the path caught my eye. I watched, my guts twisted and my heart banging hard, as Vincent emerged in his suit with Bianca on his arm, a vision in all black.
A black veil covered her face, so I couldn’t see her features, but her dress hugged her body in all the right places before cascading into a trail of midnight behind her.
“Beautiful,” I breathed out, not realizing I’d spoken until Levin grunted behind me. I’d have to thank him later for picking out such a perfect dress for my wasp.
It felt like forever before they finally reached us. I locked eyes with Vincent for a moment and noted the pain hiding within the dark pools. I'd meant what I’d said about not taking her from them. I wouldn’t. At least not completely. She did belong to me until I deemed otherwise and set her free to them.
I inclined my head at him as he placed her palm in mine and backed away, pulling his phone out to take photos for us.
Her fingers in mine weren't gripping as tightly as I'd hoped, so I gave it a gentle squeeze and turned us to face the priest.
He gave me a shaky smile before clearing his throat. “D-dearly beloved,” he started.
Bianca’s hand trembled in mine, her chest heaving. I’d never wanted to hold someone so much in my life as I did in that moment. She had to hate me, but there was a tiny part of me which prayed she loved me and would still want me.
I tuned out the sound of the priest’s prayers as I gripped her hand tightly, my mind on the possibilities of what it meant to be married. The responsibilities I’d have to my wife.
I hadn’t started the year at Bolten imagining I’d be married before Christmas, but there I was, forcing my enemy’s daughter to marry me in the middle of nowhere. And actually wanting her to be my wife.
“Repeat after me,” the priest said, his voice still quaking. “I, Bianca Elizabeth D’Angelou, take thee, Dominic Matteo De Santis, as my lawfully wedded husband…”
I stared down at the sheet of black tulle in front of me, my breath held.
She remained silent.
The priest fidgeted.
I clutched her tighter. “Wasp,” I urged in a low, dangerous voice.
Whether she said the words or not, this was happening. But damn, I really wanted her to say the words.
There was a beat of silence before she spoke, her voice soft, “I, Bianca Elizabeth Walker, take thee, Dominic Matteo De Santis as my lawfully wedded husband…”
I exhaled, both her hands in mine, as she continued to speak her vows softly into the evening air, her voice quivering slightly with each syllable.
Levin handed her my silver wedding band. She pushed it onto my ring finger wordlessly and perhaps a bit too roughly, but it was done.
The priest gave us a wobbly smile of encouragement before he instructed me to repeat my vows.
I did, my voice low and even. When I got to the end, I decided to add something. “I vowed to keep you safe, Bianca. I told you I never break a promise. Nothing has changed in that respect. If anything, my commitment to you has grown. I’m sorry if this isn’t how you wanted things to go, but this isn’t a game to me. I don’t take these vows lightly. I belong to you as much as you belong to me.” I slid the diamond I’d picked up earlier that day onto her slender finger. “Always.”
Levin cleared his throat and stared at his feet as Vincent snapped more photos with his phone. I couldn’t see Bianca’s face through the veil, so I waited, hoping once it was lifted, she’d say she gave a modicum of shit for me and my efforts.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. D-Dominic, you may kiss your bride.”
Gently, I reached out and lifted the veil from her face, staring down at her beauty. Her blonde waves whipped around her in the gentle breeze, her red, plump lips parted. Her blue eyes glimmered beneath the setting sun. She was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen.