Dishonorable

She looked down at it once it was fully seated on her delicate finger, and I wondered what thoughts circled her mind.

The priest cleared his throat, and I wanted to slap him. To tell him to give her time. To let us be.

Sofia met my gaze. I handed her my ring. She took it, and I held out my left hand. As she slid the serrated ring onto my finger, she gasped, hesitating at the sudden sight of blood, faltering.

Her mouth fell open, her eyes wide when she met mine.

“Do it,” I said.

She shifted her gaze back to my hand and dragged the spiked band upward, her eyes now fixated on the lines of red that appeared along my finger. The first dark droplet fell, soiling the snow-white of her dress, and when she pulled her stained fingers away, she looked up at me again, the ice in her eyes different, less cold. Confused now. Lost.

Lost again.

I gripped the back of her neck and forced her attention back to the priest who had gone a little pale at the blood.

“Finish it,” I spat.

He met my gaze, swallowed, fumbled with his Bible—fucking idiot—and then pronounced us husband and wife.

I kissed my bride with a hunger that would devour her. A warning to her. A promise of what would come.

Chapter Thirteen

Sofia

“What did you do with the ring?” I asked when we got into the car. “Your finger—”

“It’ll heal.”

“Why did you do that? Why would you?”

“I thought it would be a constant reminder of you,” he said with a smile not meant to be one at all.

“I don’t understand you.”

“What do you have with my brother?”

“Nothing. Are you jealous?”

“Not jealous. Remember, truth. I want truth, always.”

“Well, he’s not crazy. That’s one thing we have, I guess.”

“He’s a different kind of crazy. I’m warning you now to be careful with him. You don’t know my brother.”

“And I already like him better than you.”

“Isn’t that a shame for you, then.”

Silence.

I pulled the pins holding the veil on my head off and folded it on my lap. I glanced out the tinted windows, watching as Lina and my grandfather got into another sedan. Lina looked over at our car and waved. I waved back, watching as we drove away that they followed.

Lina had called me in a panic just days ago. She’d told me Grandfather wouldn’t bring her to the wedding. Something had changed his mind. I wondered what.

Dinner would be catered at the house tonight, and I understood that the party at the reception would be larger than those gathered at the church. But I was surprised to find over a dozen cars parked at the house upon our arrival.

“Who are all these people?”

“Cousins. Business associates. Local people from the farms nearby. People I need to see, now that I’m back.”

“Oh.” I looked into the brightly lit house, saw people moving inside. The pool area and back veranda were lit by candles and lanterns. As Raphael helped me climb out of the car, I could see tables set for dinner with pretty white tablecloths and ornate centerpieces. Black lilies. Like my bouquet. That was the only piece I’d had a say in, and I was determined to make my mark. Let him know how I saw this unholy union.

“I arranged for your sister to stay with us for a few days,” Raphael said out of the blue.

“What?”

“Your sister. I know you want to spend time with her.”

“But my grandfather—”

“Your grandfather is welcome to leave whenever the hell he wants. She’s staying. I arranged it,” he said, cutting me off. “I told you I wouldn’t be a beast to you.”

“Why?”

“Why won’t I be a beast?”

“Why would you do that for me?”

“Just say thank you,” he said as we rounded the corner. All heads turned to us.

“Thank you.”

I didn’t have a chance to say more because we were swept up by the crowd, too many people I didn’t know coming to us, congratulating us in Italian, kissing my cheek, handing us envelopes I hadn’t expected. As if this were a real wedding.

Raphael smiled beside me, talking to people, hugging some, shaking hands with others. He seemed relaxed, more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. And he never took his hand from my back, keeping me close to him, introducing me to too many people, none of whom I’d remember.

My sister and grandfather had arrived. Damon stood with Lina. Grandfather hovered behind her like a dark shadow. I shuddered at the image but was distracted when I was handed a champagne glass and someone made a toast.

I looked at Raphael, who seemed to watch me through it all, as if one eye were constantly on me.

“Drink,” he said.

I did.

An extravagant dinner followed, only breaking up when coffee was served. Raphael and I greeted more guests who had come after the dinner. An SUV with tinted windows, including the windshield, driving onto the property caught my eye. Raphael stiffened beside me. When three men in suits descended, I turned to ask him who they were.