Page 25 of Heartless Union

The officiant turns to me. “And do you, Lara Bianco, take Rocco De Luca as your lawfully wedded husband?”

I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, making me want to curl into a ball and never move again.

Rocco narrows his eyes.

I try to speak, but nothing comes out. How can I marry a man I don’t love? I look over at my father, and he gives me a silent nod.

He’s the reason I’m doing this. My father wants to make sure I’m ok once he’s gone, and he thinks my being with Rocco will achieve that. I have to have faith in that. In him.

I turn back to Rocco. “I do,” I manage to say.

Rocco relaxes slightly, but it’s clear from his expression, he’s not happy I kept him waiting.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Cupping my face, Rocco brings his lips down to meet mine. I completely freeze. The kiss is short and rough. Rocco doesn’t even try to make it gentle.

When he pulls back, his eyes are cold.

He takes my hand, and together, we walk down the aisle, but it feels like he’s pulling me instead of having me stand by his side as his equal.

We head into the ballroom where the reception is being held. The guests enter and cheer us on, even though they probably don’t even know my name. They’re all just strangers celebrating my wedding.

“Congratulations” Gabriella says, coming over to me and hugging me. She looks effortlessly pretty in a slinky green dress that hugs her body. I notice some men glance at her appreciatively, but Gabriella doesn’t even seem to notice.

Rocco notices, though. “Gabriella, you should really be wearing a jacket over that dress.”

She pushes her hip out to the side. “Why would I wear a jacket when I look phenomenal?”

Her father comes over. “Listen to Rocco. Put on a jacket.”

In an instant, Gabriella’s bravado is gone. She almost looks like she might cry. “Whatever.” She storms away. I want to follow her and make sure she’s all right. She’s the closet person I have to a friend here.

“Women,” Leonardo scoffs. He sets his eyes on me, and a shiver goes through my body. “You would be wise to listen to my son. Women should know their place.” He and Rocco share a silent look I don’t understand before he walks away.

“Your father is …” I start to say.

“He’s cold,” Rocco responds. There’s a judgment in his voice. As if he’s not cold himself.

Massimo and Emilio come over next to wish us luck. “Don’t be too mean to my brother,” Massimo says to me. “He can be quite sensitive.”

“Massimo,” Rocco growls.

He winks, then heads over to the buffet.

“Excuse my brother,” Emilio says. “He thinks everything in life is a joke.”

“Do you?” I ask him.

Emilio huffs. “No. Nothing in life is a joke.” And with that, he walks away.

Rocco’s family is something else; that’s for sure.

“Do you get along with your brothers?” I ask Rocco when we get a minute alone.

“Why do you ask?”

“You just seem …”

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