Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I sigh, leaning my head back. “You two really were close.”
“I grew up with two fathers. One I loved and called Bryan. The other I hated and called Dad.”
“Lucky you. I grew up with a dad too, until you murdered him.”
“He murdered himself.”
I tighten my grip on my glass. “No. He didn’t. He had a reason, and I bet it was a good one. You could’ve let him go.”
“That’s not how it works in this life, and you know it. Imagine the message that would’ve sent. Steal from us and we forgive you. Every two-bit thief in the damn city would make a beeline for our drug houses. It’d be chaos.”
“Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s the truth, though. Your father knew what he was doing when he took that book. Now it’s up to us to get it back.”
“You mean, it’s up to you. None of this is my problem.”
Stellan doesn’t reply. He drinks his drink and glares at the sky like he thinks the weight of his stare is going to call down an archangel to help sort out his problems. Unfortunately for him, there’s no holy host or godly trumpets. Just some clouds from the east.
“I want to be alone tonight,” I say quietly. My voice sounds small and far away.
“No.”
“I know it’s our wedding night.” My stomach twists into nervous knots. “I know most people want to… you know…”
“I have a feeling most people are too drunk to consummate the night of their wedding.”
“Right. Well. Even still.” I curl into myself. “I want to be alone tonight.”
“I had nothing to do with your father’s death.”
“You didn’t stop it.”
“I was young.” He stands, pushing himself to his feet. He stares, jaw tight, and I wonder if maybe my father’s death still hurts him now. Not that it matters. He’s one of them, whether he likes it or not.
I am too now.
“I’ll sleep on Gem’s floor tonight, okay? Pretend like there’s an invisible wall keeping you downstairs.”
He looks at me for a long, tense moment, before nodding. “But just for tonight. Tomorrow, you’re my wife, and my wife belongs by my side. We have one more ceremony to complete.”
“We do?”
He brushes past me. I’m tempted to reach out and touch him, to draw him back. I don’t have to draw myself away. He’s right, he was young, and he loved my father too. Why do I keep blaming him for what his old man did?
“Tomorrow, I become the Don, and I’ll need my wife by my side.”
I twist to look at him. He stands silhouetted in the back sliding door. “I’ll be there. That’s why you married me, right?”
A long look which suggests no, that’s not right, but he only turns and disappears inside.
Leaving me alone. Married and alone.
STELLAN
The church is dark again. I walk through the graveyard with Kira on my arm. Lights flicker in the windows up ahead, strange and ghostly, not the usual electric glow of bulbs.
Candles in the sanctuary.
Kira looks incredible. She’s in a black dress, one her sister picked out. It drapes from her curves like silk. Her hair’s pulled back and braided. Diamonds glitter in her ears. She looks every inch the Don’s wife and so much more.
It’d be nice if she didn’t hate me.
I can’t focus on that. I force my mind to stay on the task at hand. I’ve never seen an ascension ceremony before, but Matteo explained the process. Words, blood, and oaths.
“Do I have to do anything tonight?” Kira asks nervously.
“Just watch. That’s all.”
“I don’t have any lines?”
“You’re only the audience.”
She makes a relieved sigh. “And after this is done, you’re the man? Everyone reports to you?”
“Something like that.”
“You must be happy.”
“I’m just ready for this to be over with so the real work can start.”
She touches my arm. “Don’t you ever enjoy anything?”
I think of her body against mine. Her legs wrapped around my hips. Her moans in my mouth as she comes hard, pussy tightening around my cock. “Some things.”
We enter in through the back door. Matteo’s there waiting for me. He nods to Kira, looking more serious than he did at the wedding, and leads us down the hall. Everything’s hushed and serious. The weight of secrets and killings hangs on my shoulders. More deaths are coming, and soon.
The sanctuary is filled with candles. Dozens of them line the rows. High-ranking members of the Famiglia sit interspersed throughout the pews. Kira sits in the front, away from the Capos, while I’m taken to the very front of the altar where the full council is waiting. A golden bowl rests where they usually divide the host. There’s something deeply sacrilegious about using this space like our own personal playground. But that’s the Corsetti. We’re built on power and control. Even the church gives us what we want.