Page 59 of Wicked King

Luca’s head dips. “I’ve had the same conversation with her. We’ve always had a good relationship so I don’t see why she would lie now.”

“Okay, boys, enough of this work talk.” Rose steps between us and laces her hand around Dante’s. “We’re here to celebrate, and I want to make sure we have a good seat.”

Clearing my throat, I tick my head toward the front of the church. “My assistant blocked off the first two rows for family. Feel free to use those.” And since I’d chosen not to invite my mother because we weren’t speaking at the moment, and my father was dead, we didn’t exactly have many bodies to fill those seats.

A beaming smile stretches across Rose’s lips, and my own mouth twitches at the sight. “Thanks, Marco. You’re the best.” I may not be a big fan of my half-brothers, but I can’t deny they have good taste in women.

“We’ll see you at the reception.” Luca dips his head and pulls Stella into his side as he follows Dante and Rose down the aisle.

The tap-tap of heels across the stone floor turns my attention away from my half-brothers to the wedding planner marching toward us. “We’re ready to go, gentlemen. Please take your places.”

Nico inches closer and throws his arm across my shoulders. “You see? Everything is going to be just fine.”

“I blame you for this by the way,” I snarl. “It should have been you walking down that aisle, not me.”

“Oh, stop, Marco. A few months from now, you’ll be thanking me.”

“We’ll see about that.” I squirm free from his hold and trudge down the damned aisle to take my place by the priest.

“Hey! Wait for me.” Nico rushes behind me, and already I’m regretting making him my best man. The coglione didn’t even throw me a damned bachelor party.

All eyes turn in my direction as I stalk past, and I can’t even muster a smile. Instead, I don the practiced cold mask and pray this will all be over soon. The walk to the altar is endless, each step more difficult than the last.

Merda, I can’t remember the last time I was this terrified about anything.

When I finally reach the marble step, I genuflect and make a quick sign of the cross. The priest’s eyes meet mine, and guilt squeezes my chest. I’ve done many terrible things in my life, but nothing feels quite as wrong as this.

“Don’t worry, I have the rings.” Nico presses his palm to his jacket.

The wedding bands were the last thing on my mind. I’d left the engagement ring I’d bought for Jia in the hotel room safe. I’d walked into her suite this morning with every intention of getting down on one knee and starting this marriage out on the right foot. Then everything had gone to hell as usual with us.

Could she have possibly sent an assassin?

I didn’t want to believe she was capable of that, but then again, she was related to Qian Guo, both iterations. She’d never wanted this marriage and disposing of me would not only achieve an end to the arrangement but also garner some notoriety for the new laodà of the Four Seas.

The familiar tune of the wedding march blasts from the enormous brass organ overhead, and all the hushed murmurs fall away. My ribs strain, assaulted by the jackhammering of my heart. The doors at the back of the church open, and Jia fills the archway. I thought she looked stunning before, but now with the sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass windows, her beauty is ethereal. Her porcelain skin is aglow, so radiant my breath hitches at the sight. It’s as if her entire form is illuminated by the sun itself.

My eyes chase to hers, and the excitement vanishes. Those dark, impenetrable eyes are cast in shadows, empty, devoid of emotion.

She’s miserable, and I’m smiling like an idiot. Like she is my real bride, and we are actually in love.

Dio, I’m a fucking coglione.

CHAPTER 29

CONSUMMATING THE MARRIAGE

Jia

My muscles tense as Marco’s penetrating gaze pierces into my darkest depths from across the lengthy expanse of the cathedral. Yéye must feel my anxiety because his hold around my arm tightens as he urges me forward.

But my glittering stilettos are rooted to the spot.

I cannot do this.

“Come, baobèi, everyone is waiting,” Grandfather whispers.

I attempt to will my foot forward, but it refuses to comply. My entire body is rigid, frozen in this terrifying, visceral moment. My fight or flight reflexes kick in and if I could only compel my legs to move, I’d sprint out the doors of the cathedral before anyone could stop me.

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