“Many men continue to do as they please. Men always do as they please, no matter the damage they do.”
It was the most challenging thing I’d ever heard from Sofia. I was glad to see she had some bite. I’d been worried that her youth would make her a fragile thing who would never stand up to me. If she showed some sass on our wedding day, that showed promise. “I most certainly won’t do as we please now that we’re married.” I almost added that I had stopped being with other women since the party, but my damn pride kept the words at bay. It felt like a weakness to admit it aloud.
“That’s good I suppose.”
I didn’t get the chance for a reply because our song ended, and it was my turn to dance with Ines. As usual, her appearance gave me a strange sense of premature déjà vu, as if she reflected the future that might have been. She was like the older version of Serafina. If things hadn’t taken the turn they had, that might have been my reality in twenty years. Unlike in previous years, I didn’t feel a pang at that thought. My eyes followed Sofia as she danced with Dante since she couldn’t dance with my father. I was glad to have Sofia at my side, even if I feared our first weeks would be challenging.
“You can’t take your eyes off her, can you?” Ines asked with a pleased smile as she followed my gaze toward her daughter.
She was right. I had trouble keeping my eyes off her. She was stunning, and now she was mine. What had been before was now irrelevant. I couldn’t deny that I desired her. It was as if a switch had been turned, especially now that I had every right to claim her. Given our last encounter, I assumed Sofia wasn’t as keen about sharing a bed with me tonight, but I’d take my time giving her pleasure to ease her worries.
My thoughts got derailed when my eyes passed Emma. She sat at our table, watching the dance floor. She’d put on her brave face, an expression I was too familiar with. Again, she sat at the sidelines of life, forced to see it pass her by. It pissed me off and made me feel guilty all over again. Samuel was dancing with Valentina, and Emma followed them with longing.
“Do you want to go to her?” Ines asked softly.
“When the song has ended.”
The moment the last chord played, I excused myself from the dancefloor. From the corner of my eye, I saw Samuel dancing with Anna. I felt the unreasonable urge to cross the dancefloor and punch his stupid face. It was his job to take care of my sister. She was his fiancée, for fuck’s sake, and in only two weeks she’d be his wife. Instead, he was enjoying himself while Emma suffered in silence behind her public mask. She was such a beautiful woman, but all anyone saw was the wheelchair. It made me unreasonably angry.
I stopped in front of Emma, trying to hide my anger from her. Usually it only embarrassed her.
“You and Sofia were such a stunning pair on the dancefloor,” she said.
“Why are you here all alone?” I said in a tone that barely cloaked my emotions. Mom was dancing with one of the Captains and seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Not that I didn’t want her to be happy; she’d suffered enough after Dad’s death, but she was supposed to keep an eye on Emma.
Emma frowned. “I like to watch, and I don’t want people to feel obligated to stay with me.”
I made a dismissive sound. Then I extended my hand. “Will you dance with me?”
Emma looked almost wounded when I asked. “Danilo—”
“You always loved to dance.”
“I did, when I had legs capable of dancing,” she hissed.
I bent and slid one arm under her legs while the other supported her back before I lifted her out of her wheelchair. Her eyes widened.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes scanning the crowd—everyone was watching. I didn’t care. If one of them said a single word, I’d make this a bloody wedding.
“It’s my wedding, and I want a dance with my sister,” I said firmly as I held her against my chest. Her arms finally came around my neck and she gave me a look that suggested I was delusional.
“You can’t carry me through a dance. I’m too heavy.”
I carried her toward the dancefloor and people made room for us since we required a bigger space to dance due to the way I was holding Emma. “Are you suggesting I’m not strong enough?”
Emma smiled gently. “You are the strongest man I know.”
I began to dance to the music with Emma in my arms, ignoring the curious looks, but scowling at those who dared to direct pity at my sister. She didn’t want their pity. Soon, Emma started laughing as we whirled around to the music. When the dance was over, and I carried her back to her wheelchair, she didn’t release me immediately but clung to my neck for a few seconds.