Page 24 of Heartless Union

Chuckling, he kisses me on the head. “You look just like your mother.”

“Is that a compliment? Mom left us.”

“She did. But I still loved her when I was younger. You remind me of her on our wedding day. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. At least until you were born.”

“Stop. You really are going to make me cry.”

He wipes away one of my tears that escapes. “You can cry all you want as long as you’re safe.”

“Dad?” I ask, taking a seat on the couch. “Do you think Rocco will be a good husband to me?”

He sits beside me. “I think he’ll protect you, and that’s what matters.”

“But what about other things beyond protection?”

“Like what?”

“Like …” I clear my throat, forcing the words out. “Like love, Dad. Do you think he’ll ever show compassion to me? Because so far, he hasn’t.”

“Rocco is a serious Mafia man. I know the type well. They tend not to show their emotions. But if anyone can get him to open up, you can. Can you promise me you’ll try to have a successful marriage?”

Can I? A part of me is still afraid of Rocco, while another part is drawn to him. Can I ever love a man like him?

“I’ll try,” I tell my dad, unable to lie but wanting to comfort him. “I’ll always try. For you.”

He cups my cheek. “You should always try for yourself.”

Easier said than done.

“Ready?” Dad asks me as we stand before the doors of the ballroom. Rocco is just on the other side, waiting to marry me. Is he as anxious as I am?

“Yes,” I whisper, though I don’t feel ready at all.

The doors open, and the music swells. Everyone stands up to watch me walk down the aisle. I don’t know any of these people other than Rocco’s siblings and father. There have to be over two hundred people.

I didn’t plan this wedding. My father did with Rocco and Leonardo’s help. Other than my dress, I didn’t have a say about anything.

The reason is because this wedding isn’t about me. It’s a power move for Rocco, and I’m just a pawn.

I see him standing at the end of the aisle on a raised platform. He looks stunningly handsome in a navy suit that really brings out the color of his eyes.

But his eyes don’t look like a man in love. They look like a man hypercritical of me. A man judging me when we haven’t even said our “I do’s” yet.

I grip my dad’s arm tighter as we walk down the aisle, and he pats my hand. At least I have him for the time being, but that thought only makes me want to cry again, knowing he won’t be with me for long.

The attendees watch me with a mixture of emotions from pleasantly surprised to looks of judgment like I’m not good enough to be Rocco’s wife. How can people who don’t even know me look at me like that?

I’m grateful when I reach the end and get away from everyone’s gaze, but that only puts me smack dab in Rocco’s path. He takes my hand from my father as I step up beside him.

Everyone takes their seats, and the ceremony begins.

I drown out the officiant—another person I don’t know—as I look at Rocco. He’s gazing at me with an intensity that scares me. It’s like he’s going to eat me alive. The lamb to his wolf.

Rocco’s hands tighten around mine like he’s claiming me as his all over again. I’m still not sure I even want to be his.

“Do you, Rocco De Luca, take Lara Bianco as your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant asks.

“I do,” he says without hesitation. How can he be so confident? What does he gain from marrying me? Because so far, I feel like I’m not gaining anything. In fact, it feels like I’m losing bits of myself to him already.

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