Page 91 of Stolen By the Enemy

Today has been almost surreal.

I have felt a weird sense of peace all day, and it’s heightened now that I am officially married.

I don’t slow down often enough, but looking up at the Mexican sky brings me a kind of peace.

I know that after our week-long honeymoon, Grazia and I will need to get back to work.

We have to figure out our new life and routine, while also bringing in this new collaboration of the Baldinis’ work and my own.

Carlos isn’t the happiest right now, but he’s not losing any money, and I found him a tough youngster who was more than happy to take my place in his team.

As I’m preparing to pull the cigar out of my pocket, I see a shadow moving near the door. I hesitate, straining my eyes to see more clearly in the shadows cast by the tall ornamental doors that lead outside.

“Elio? I say, in disbelief.

“Hello, Marco,” he says to me, his deep voice like velvet. “Nice wedding.”

It’s like seeing a ghost.

Sometimes, I forget that Elio La Rosa exists. It’s been years since I last saw him, and I certainly didn’t expect him to show up today, at my wedding.

“You weren’t invited,” I say to him.

“A little bird told me that someone special is on the guestlist today,” he replies. He’s stalking toward me cautiously, but confidently, a predator on the hunt.

“Your little bird must have been confused,” I say to him, feigning indifference I don’t feel. “This is a family event.”

“You know why I’m here,” he says to me. “I want what’s mine. You can keep your brat, but I want my betrothed.”

I sigh. “And if I say no?”

Elio laughs gently, confidently. “Oh, you won’t say no,” he tells me, just before he drives his fist into my face.

***

Grazia

“How does it feel to be married?” Emelia asks me. She rests a hand on her pregnant belly and strokes small circles over it with her fingers.

I watch her for a moment, envious of her impending motherhood. I can’t wait to have children with Marco.

“I feel like you all need to get out of here so that my husband and I can get back into bed!” I say with a giggle.

My cheeks flush as my friends laugh with me.

I’m not kidding, though, I am more than ready to find Marco and start our honeymoon.

I scan the room, looking for Marco’s dark head in the crowd.

I can’t see him, but my eyes fall on a pretty woman talking to her child nearby. She is hunkered down chatting with him before he runs away to play with the other kids.

I don’t know who she is, but her child is so beautiful that I decide to speak to her.

“What a beautiful child,” I say to her.

She glances up at me, looking a little startled. “Thank you,” she says with a small smile.

“How old is he?” I ask.

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