My heart started to race inside my chest, started to bounce against my rib cage. She was the only woman on this planet who could do that, who could change my heart rate, who could raise the temperature like she had a thermostat in her pocket. It was hard to stare at the sincerity in her gaze and not grab her by the hair and kiss her. I wanted to marry her now, to take her to bed and make her feel the same way.
“I can tell it kills you inside that you did what you had to do, but don’t let it destroy you. If it were another man, you wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him. Just because he’s your father doesn’t mean he deserved special treatment.”
That decision had ruined my life, acted as a catalyst for all the other bad shit that had come after. It didn’t matter how many times I confessed to a priest, I never felt vindicated for my sins. I should have found another way to end the operation. I should have kept my father alive. I should still have a relationship with my brother. I should love a woman who loved me in return. “It doesn’t matter if my actions were justified. He was my father…” I was grateful my mother didn’t have her mind long enough to know what I did.
“What he did was way worse than what you did.”
“He didn’t kill anyone.”
She squeezed my arm. “There are worse things than dying.” Her fingers slowly released me, and she pulled away. “You and I have our differences. I’ve chosen to stay in the dark in regard to your criminal affairs. But this makes me see you with new eyes…makes me proud to call you my husband.”
I closed my eyes because I didn’t deserve her praise. “It’s still going on…”
“But you did everything you could to stop it.”
“I killed someone, and it made no difference at all. Don’t misunderstand me—I want your praise. I want you to take off all your clothes and kiss me to make me forget. But I don’t deserve it. What I did was unforgivable, and I’ve been punished for it ever since.”
“By whom?”
I looked into her eyes and almost considered telling her the truth, telling her that all of this was preordained. Neither one of us had any say in the future. I didn’t know why her future had to be intertwined with mine, why she couldn’t fall in love with someone and get married. Why did she have to be a pawn in my punishment? Or was being unconditionally loved by a man who would die to protect her a good thing? “By me.”
“How do you feel?”
I sat in the chair with a scotch in my hand. The liquor killed the nerves, but that wasn’t why I drank so much of it. Today was an exception. I was thrilled to be getting the woman I wanted, but I was dismayed by the price I’d paid for it.
My father’s life.
This was all a sick punishment, all a twisted game for the universe.
Even if she never loved me…at least I got to love her.
Damien kept watching me. “You’re ignoring me. So you must feel amazing…or feel like shit.”
“I’m not sure what I feel.” I set the glass on the table beside me. “It’s a strange feeling to look forward to your punishment…to be addicted to the pain.”
“If your pain is Sofia Romano…there are worse kinds of pain.”
“True.”
He pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch. “We should get out there.” We both got to our feet, and he straightened my tie before we moved to the door. “You know, it’s a shame there was no bachelor party. If I ever get married, I’m not gonna pussy out like you did.”
“You say that now…” Sofia didn’t give a damn if I went to a strip club. She didn’t care if I fucked someone the night before our wedding. But I found it dirty, especially after the moment we’d had on my balcony. I was in this fully, loyal to the end.
We moved up the rows until we stood at the front of the room, the glass windows behind us. A thousand people were there, friends and acquaintances. Sofia had a large extended family, and I did business with a lot of people.
Once everyone was seated, the music began.
The wedding party was small, so only a flower girl came down the aisle along with a few bridesmaids. Then the wedding march began, and everyone rose to their feet. Instead of picking the traditional wedding march, Sofia chose a quiet symphony, something with a dreamlike quality. It fit her perfectly.
With her arm interlocked with her mother’s, she glided toward me like an angel without wings. Her tight dress highlighted her hourglass frame, and the small veil in front of her face made her so traditionally beautiful. The dress was low-cut in the front, showing her porcelain skin and a bit of her womanly chest. The long train dragged behind her, brushing up against the rose petals that had been sprinkled earlier.