Page 7 of His Stolen Bride

“Then you would be free, too.” Gianna’s whole face lights up at the idea.

I only smile at her, not wanting to smother that spark of hope in her eyes. My only plan was to get them out. Then I would deal with the consequences. There was no escape plan for me. As a woman married to a boss, I would be hunted down. Gianna, on the other hand, would be looked for but soon forgotten, her disgrace ensuring her erasure from the family lineage. I would stay to try and ruin any plans of ever finding her by playing the part of the completely unaware, broken-hearted sister.

Ha. Maybe I could fake her death and frame my soon-to-be husband. That will drive him crazy. I smile at the idea.

“Don’t worry.” I kiss her forehead. “Let’s focus on you first.”

“I think we have to focus on your wedding.” Gianna’s voice drops. “You know he’s going to want to…” She lifts her eyebrows.

“Have sex? Yes, I’m aware of that.” I felt it myself firsthand when he pressed against me. I don’t know if he was trying to scare me. But fear was the last thing I felt in that moment. I push that thought to the back of my mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to be so lucky with him. I noticed he was…” She trails off again.

“Aroused?” I supply for her. She nods.

“It’s sex. I don’t care.” I thought I’d have to have sex with my last husband. I’d already mentally prepared myself for this. At least Santino is much easier on the eyes.

“It’s not ‘just’ sex, and I hate you think that. It’s supposed to be so much more, and you’re never going to experience it. You’re going to lie down and let that man have his way with you.” Tears well in Gianna’s eyes and wet her cheeks. I hate when she cries. It makes me feel helpless. I loathe feeling helpless.

“Please calm down.” Leo comes over to calm her.

I watch as he holds her close. I look away, not liking the weird rush of emotion I feel. Love isn't in the cards for me. It never was. Gianna is so lucky to have found it, and I want her to have it forever.

Gianna sniffles.

“He’s not bad on the eyes, you know?” Gianna tries again.

A sound rumbles from deep inside of Leo, making my lips twitch.

“He’s not,” I agree. I didn't think someone could be so handsome. It was disarming. “I hear steps,” I whisper and turn to the door.

Leo steps back. A moment later Santino strides into the room.

“We wed tonight.” He says it so matter-of-factly. ‘We’re having lamb.’ ‘The day is warm.’ ‘We wed tonight.’

I toss my head. “If you wish.”

He stares at me. I’m not sure what he’s looking for. He’s not going to find it.

Oh, yeah. “Bastard,” I add in there. I think that’s what he’s looking for.

“Be ready in an hour.” He looks at Leo. “Don’t make me kill you.” He turns and stomps back out.

“Santino,” I call his name and stand. He slowly turns to look at me. He seems irritated. Good, that makes two of us. There’s nothing more boring than a wedding, and this will be my second in weeks. “I want to see his body. My husband’s.”

“He’s not your husband.” He’s even more bothered now, a vein pulsing at his temple. Why does that please me so?

“He’s my husband until I know he’s dead.”

“He’s already food for worms.”

“Then your men better get to digging.” I tap my wrist. “An hour, remember?”

He narrows his eyes on me. “You want to see the corpse?”

Not really, but I have this need to irritate my soon-to-be husband. To make his life hell before he takes me to his bed and forces himself on me. I made the request before I knew what I was doing. Or maybe I did know what I was doing, because I’m getting a reaction from Santino. One that I have to say I’m rather enjoying.

“I must confirm my husband is dead. Otherwise, I can’t marry another.”

“He’s not your husband.” His jaw flexes.

“Prove it.” I sit back down, the picture of nonchalance.

He keeps on staring at me with that hard look that I’m sure scares many. I lick my busted bottom lip, my tongue gliding across my still-healing skin. His eyes drop to my mouth.

“I’ll be back with the body. Consider it your wedding present, beautiful.”

His term of endearment catches me off guard. That is, until I realize its probably sarcasm. It has to be.

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