Page 54 of Broken Vows

“Come.” Tasha has me by the hand and leads me to the stairs. “You’re ready.”

Somehow, this woman’s unwavering support has been fundamental in getting me through the past few days. I’velearned a bit more about her past and how she ended up being married to Matteo. There are many gaps in her story, but the biggest ones are filled with love.

The photographer takes photos as we progress through the apartment, and I pose where he tells me to. By the time we’ve made our way to the doors leading to the rooftop garden, everything is quiet. It’s time. The brothers must have used another exit to get out here because they are already waiting outside in the soft light of an early Boston evening.

I step outside and stall in my steps as I meet Stephano’s gaze across the short stretch of burgundy carpet leading me to him. White rose bouquets line the path to my groom, and it’s simply beautiful, making my heart lodge in my throat. He’s gone to extremes, and it makes me fall a little…just a little bit more. For a man I promised to loathe for all eternity, his actions have been like a wrecking ball to my resolve.

Best husband I’d ever have.It’s as if he latched on to those words and made them his slogan for this joint venture, and at some point, mymost horrible wifeeveridea has slipped from the radar. How could I be terrible to a man who has been nothing but caring and gentle to me from the moment I arrived in Boston? Worst of all, he held me close, and in the past few days of not seeing him, I’ve missed his physical presence. His touch. His hands on my body. His reassurance that it’s all going to be okay.

Now he brushes his gaze over me as he holds out his hand, with a slightly tilted head and that cocked brow I’ve come to read as a dare.

Carla has already walked down the aisle, and as I make my way after her, I glance at the other brothers, all Stephano’s best men. They’re a line-up of smoldering hotness. I’ve never seen them all together like this, dressed in tuxedos, hair slicked back. I was surprised to learn Stephano has an identical twin. At firstglance, it’s almost impossible to distinguish between them. Then I started tallying up the small differences. Stephano is slightly taller and leaner than Luca, toned and muscled under his business suits in a way that begs me to peel off all the layers and see what else he has going on under all that fabric. But it’s really his eyes that give him away. Luca looks at me with indifference. The way Stephano looks at me is always intense, just like now.

“Angel,” he says as I finally make it to his side. “You look stunning.” He leans closer to whisper in my ear. “And petrified, like a deer in the headlights.”

“It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“It’s going to be okay.” He stands closer and rests his hand on my lower back, protective, supportive.

With a slow exhale, I settle into his touch, realizing this is exactly what I need.

The ceremony passes in a blur. It’s words, nothing more, each moment accentuated by the click of a camera. Stephano’s hand on my back doesn’t move except for his thumb, which strokes reassuring swipes up and down, hypnotizing me.

Somewhere in there, I say yes, and then my bouquet is gone, and my hand rests in Stephano’s. He slips an eternity ring on my finger, wide with big diamonds. I don’t even know who procured the wedding bands, but his is a simple white-gold band, symbol of a holy promise I intend to break as soon as possible.

And then, his hand slides over my collarbone and to my neck and I stare up at him, almost straining to breathe as his thumb caresses a tender line up my throat to my jaw. We’ve never kissed before. Not even in Cannes where his lips traversed every inch of my body they’d wanted to. It’s for show, but his hold is firm and commanding as if I’d dare pull away, and gentle in the same breath as he tilts my mouth up to his.

Suddenly, I need it more than air itself, his mouth on mine, his body on mine, his cock in me. I know why. This is the unfulfilled desire and need from the night in Cannes.

He kisses me. It’s soft, lingering, and has my pulse in a riot of butterflies. When he pulls away, I need to lean into his chest to keep my balance, but he has me, his arm around my waist, hugging me close. He’s staring into my eyes, and a smile toys on his lips. We don’t need words. That kiss said everything.

I’m in trouble. I have been for a while now. I’m falling for the last man I ever thought I’d fall for, and in the process, stitching myself back into the life I wanted to escape more than anything else.

28

STEPHANO

That’s it. I’m done. The evening has dragged on long enough, what with the ceremony, couple’s photos, and dinner. The two waiters are taking orders for coffees and whiskeys, and it’s barely nine o’clock, but Gigi looks exhausted. I need to get out of here withmy wife. That’s going to take some getting used to.

Gigi sits next to me, an unreadable expression on her face. She’s been too quiet for my liking, but Tasha, like any woman who was groomed to be the perfect hostess, made sure there was no lapse in the conversation. She’s exactly whatIl Consiglio, and Matteo in particular, needs. It’s been a pleasant evening, but we’re done.

I reach for Gigi’s hand, and she stills where she’s been twisting her champagne glass round and round.

“Let’s go home,” I whisper in her ear. “It’s early, but it’s enough.”

She meets my gaze and nods. “I need to get my things.”

“Already done.” Earlier, I roped in Matteo’s housekeeper to pack Gigi’s things while we were getting married.

“What?”

“Rosalia sorted it out. You’re good to go.”

“Are you always this controlling?” she mutters under her breath.

“Not controlling, angel. Organized.” I stand, and she follows suit. “Thanks for the evening, Matteo, Tasha. We’ll be around.”

My brothers’ eyes all lock with mine, and with a hitched brow and a scowl, I dare them to wolf whistle or something worse.

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