Page 174 of Their Princess

“Papà?” I mumbled, my voice shaking, but I couldn’t move.

Sas grabbed my hand and then placed me behind his body, sandwiching me between him and Graff. I could smell my artist at my back and feel his breathing on my neck. I wanted to kick away from them and show that I could handle myself.

If pressed, I would have to admit that I liked having them there, but with the commotion between father and Gio, I couldn’t enjoy being the centerpiece of an Adelina sandwich.

“Father?” I asked, peeking around Sas.

My husband—future husband was like stone, rigid with tension. He spied his surroundings, moving his head slowly. He stood above the crowd.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” answered Graff behind me when Sas didn’t answer.

My father and Gio stood off to the side, their heads bent together. Their murmurings were too quiet for me to hear, silenced still by the “Here Comes the Bride” music playing overhead. People muttered in the pews, but we were the Mafia and the MC becoming just as large.

Things like this happened. Often.

“Let’s go.” My father straightened up and snapped his fingers. “Neomi, Caterina,” he called out, followed by other names.

My mother and sister scrambled after Gio, others in la Famiglia leaving too.

All except Rafe.

“What is it?” demanded Sas.

“Normal business,” said my father.

“Bullshit,” growled Sas.

“Things like this happen in la Famiglia. As you know,” said my father and then looked past Sas. “I’ve given you away, mia figlia. Get married. Congratulations. I’m sure we’ll talk soon.” Then he stalked out of the church with my family and his capos on his heels.

“Princess?” muttered Sas.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, staring at my father’s back. I couldn’t see my sister or mother. Where was my family going? Why did they leave?

Wilde stepped in front of Massimo, and now they were arguing. Sas lurched forward a step, but I touched Sas’s hand. He glanced over his shoulder at me with his jaw set and eyes hard. He had lost that devilish smile, and I missed it.

“Let’s get married,” I said.

“Do you really think this is the time?” growled Sas.

I rolled my eyes, and he narrowed his gaze on me. I would pay for that later, and a thrill ran through my body. Before, in fact, a physical thrill ran through me, leaving me jerking. I swallowed my gasp.

“We have the time now,” I said through gritted teeth, but my voice wavered. “Marry me.”

“You sound needy,” he said.

“I’m just saving you from repeating this wedding day over again.” I bit down and closed my eyes as another tremor racked through my body. When I opened my eyes, I gritted out, “Unless you like wearing a tux.”

One of his ruddy brows shot up. “I would have to give your presents to you all over again.”

“You mean Graff?” I winked at my artist as he circled over behind Sas again.

“And this.”

Buzzing filled my cunt, then stopped abruptly.

“Fine. Let’s get married.” Sas hauled me up the stairs and in front of the priest and barked at him. “Start.”

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