When Villains Rise (Anti-Heroes in Love 2)

I wanted him to think he was safe.

My sink was stained with dye from the night before that I carefully rinsed out before I went downstairs to meet Tore.

He was dressed in a beautifully tailored suit looking every inch the mafia boss as he extended his arm for me to take. When I did, his other hand found my forearm and squeezed.

“I am sorry you had to find out about Caprice and I this way.” His eyes were as golden as the gilt scrolling on the shrine to Apollo in the Duomo di Napoli. As golden as his daughter’s. “I want you to understand, I have loved your mother for most of my life and I do not see that changing.”

“Have you told her that?” I wondered.

His lips thinned. “She knows. She says there is too much water under this bridge.”

“Bridges exist to straddle the void,” I countered. “Maybe you just need to build a new one.”

There was a ghost of smile in his short beard. “I have your approval then.”

“If you need it,” I offered then shrugged. “Though, I won’t ask for yours with Dante.”

“You don’t need it,’ he assured.

I raised an eyebrow, inferring that I felt the same about him. “Maybe a few months ago, I would have judged you and Mama more harshly, but I’m in no place to do so now. If Dante wanted to drag me into the bowls of hell, I’d go with him gladly. Love makes animals of us all, all instinct and heart with no capacity for reason. I won’t judge you for loving her or the things you’ve done in service of that love just as I wouldn’t judge a wolf for slaughtering sheep or a bear for protecting its cubs. It’s just in our nature.”

“Eloquently said.” He patted my hand then led me out the doors to his waiting Maserati.

“Are you ready for today?” he queried once we were settled into the low yellow car I remembered from my childhood and the engine roared into wakefulness.

“Either I end the day Dante’s mistress or we all end it free. Either way, I’ll go down fighting.”

He grinned as he gunned the car, speeding down the driveway with a roar of the engine like a trumpet announcing our call to war.

“In bocca al lupo a tutti noi,” he called over the cacophony.

Good luck to us all.

The church was packed to the gills with smartly dressed Neapolitans. Everyone wore black as if it was a funeral and not a celebration, but the women dripped with jewels to show their affluential connections in the mafia and the men wore sunglasses even though it was a cool, overcast morning and the light inside the church itself was dim.

Tore and I waited in the receiving line to greet the father of the groom, in this case, the uncle.

“Elena,” Rocco said, ignoring Tore even though it was extraordinarily rude and therefore dangerous to do so. “You look exquisite today.”

“Thank you,” I demurred, holding on to Frankie’s arm as if I couldn’t bear to be separated from him.

The truth was, he’d met us at the church with a distinctly distracted aura and wasn’t playing the part of my doting husband very well.

“You will come to the party at my villa after,” Rocco asserted, still holding the hand he’d raised to kiss.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” I gave his palm a squeeze before firmly pulling away from his sweaty grasp. “Frankie and I are taking something of a second honeymoon while we’re here so we might not stay long.”

Rocco’s beady eyes narrowed.

I smiled placidly at him.

He was smart enough to know Dante wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed being maneuvered into corners, but he wasn’t smart enough to guess at how he might strike back at him.

“You’ll sit behind me during the ceremony,” he announced. “So I can keep an eye on all of you.”

“Va bene,” I agreed easily. “It will be nice to have a front row seat.”

Reluctantly, Rocco gestured for us to move on so he could greet the other attendees in the line. I let out a little breath of relief when we passed into the cool church, my hand clammy on Frankie’s suited arm.

“Tranquilo, Elena,” Frankie soothed in a low murmur as we walked down the flower studded asile to the second pew from the front. “Everything will work out.”

I nodded, but my stomach was twisted into so many knots I doubted I’d ever be able to untangle my nerves.

Tore reached over to my lap and grabbed my twisting hands, taking one in his own. He had large hands, the same shape as Sebastian’s.

It comforted me more than I thought it would.

We waited as everyone settled into the seats and finally, a hush fell over the proceedings.

From an antechamber to the left of the alter, shoes clicked across the marble floor.