Page 76 of SINS & Temptation

But as much as this runaway train is all full steam ahead, I can’t say it.

I try. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a small, pathetic squeak.

Everything is perfect, and I still can’t marry him.

But then, I don’t have to.

The doors burst open, and Andre D’Angelo storms in, bringing everything to a complete cluster of a halt.

Chapter Thirty

KENNEDY

Andre D’Angelo strolls in alone. His face is icy, cold, and unreadable. Two armed guards rush him, frisk him, and then, as if hell itself has frozen over, they offer him a seat.

My eyes widen. He moves slowly and methodically, assessing my outfit, then Enzo’s, understandably pausing at his kilt before he finally sits down in the very last pew.

“What’s he doing here?” I whisper, hating how just one look from the man makes my pulse frantic and my lizard brain take over. Fight or flight. Survival mode.

My feet are ready to move, to grab the girls and Riley and run. Run as fast and as far as I can when Enzo’s warm hand squeezes mine, grounding me.

It’s as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking the moment I think it.

It’s as if he really is a prince.

That is, until he isn’t.

Calmly, quietly, his words hit me like a wrecking ball. “I invited him.”

“You what?” The initial wave of panic subsides into a murky lull of disbelief. “Why?”

“I already told you. It’s me or him, Bella. I’m not sitting around for months with my thumb up my ass while you think it through. We do this now or not at all.” He motions to the door, his golden eyes dark. “Uncle Andre’s chariot awaits.”

He’s forcing my hand the only way he knows how—decisive and cutthroat. There’s nothing to argue. Either I’m doing this, or I’m just one more weight anchoring him down.

In his own special asshole way, the choice is mine.

“Enzo,” Dante’s low voice cut in, the voice of reason slicing through the tension. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“This was exactly the plan.”

“One you didn’t bother including us in,” Smoke fires back, his anger bottled up in a whisper.

Trinity stands to my left, her expression, a clear what-the-actual-fuck, while Dory looks half a second from grabbing the girls and fleeing.

Free-spirited Riley, on the other hand, looks around with a patient smile, oblivious to the dumpster fire happening right in front of her face, and stifles a yawn.

With the calm authority of a man who’s seen it all, Father Marc speaks up. “Please, everyone is welcome in the house of the Lord.”

Yes, of course. Where demons can waltz in to witness Satan himself getting hitched.

Enzo locks eyes with Father Marc, and just like that, the ceremony resumes. “Do you, Kennedy, take Enzo Ares D’Angelo, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

I knot my arms tightly, feeling my husband-to-be pushing me to the boiling point. “I’m thinking.” Yup. I’m thinking about what an asshole you are.

“I suggest you think faster,” Enzo growls, his voice gravelly.

I tap my chin, irritation bubbling up. “Hmm. Death or Enzo, death or Enzo...”

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