Page 82 of Beautiful Vows

The procession makes its way slowly down the aisle. Rafe tenses beside me. His hand brushes against mine. “You okay?”

I watch as the coffin is laid out at the front of the church, surrounded by a sea of white lilies. “Absolutely fine.”

As the priest steps forward to begin the service, I take a deep breath. Dominic sits taller.

I steel myself for what’s coming, wondering about the secrets Helena took to her grave.

There’s too many hymns, prayers, and people who don’t even know her talk about her life.

How perfect she was.

How loved she was.

And worse, how her children would feel her loss.

I don’t know these people. How the fuck would they know?

I’m glad when the church bells ring and know soon Helena will be buried, deep in the ground.

Outside, the air is heavy with the scent of lilies and freshly turned earth.

My men protectively flank me. I get it. The cemetery is full of Mafia people.

At first, I’m surprised my father, Mac, not Antonio, is nowhere to be seen. But then I realized why he never wanted to go to Amara’s eighteenth birthday party. He knows the moment his face is known, he’ll either die or be expected to take over his father’s old role.

Giuseppe Rossi only had one child, the very undead Fredrico Rossi, now otherwise known as Mac Bailey, or my father. And now the Rossi role will soon be taken over by my father’s cousin.

I overheard Eduardo wasn’t thrilled about that. He wanted the Rossi family discarded forever—just like he wanted with the Moretti’s.

The Bastard.

But that bastard is going to have a shock today.

All eyes are on us as we take our seats at the graveside. This time, Rafe and Cade flank either side of me and Dante stands behind me, his hands firm on my shoulders. The three of them are protecting not only the babies, but me as they form a human shield around me.

I feel so loved.

Romeo and Mateo Conti stroll past, each man staring at the four of us together.

I give them a quick nod.

“What happened to you, Con?” Eduardo asks Mateo, who must’ve been in a fight since the day of Ricardo’s death. His gaze falls on Rafe’s face, which isn’t nearly as bad as it was.

Mateo laughs, looking at Rafe. “We had a boxing match.”

“Boxing … I haven’t boxed since I was a kid in Italy.” He says the words, but his eyes land on mine before they drift upward to Dante. He chooses not to say whatever is on his mind.

Dominic follows. He’s chatting to Antonio, and has a protective arm around Amara’s shoulder while Milly holds her hand.

“Is everyone going to the wake?” Eduardo asks Dante, but nobody else.

“We’ll go for an hour or so,” Dante responds curtly, as the priest asks everyone to take a seat and he begins.

As the priest’s words fade into the background, I can’t shake the creeping sensation that started in the church and has been growing since we arrived at the cemetery.

The feeling I’m being watched.

I press my hand over the back of my neck as the small hairs there stand on end.

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