Page 25 of Now and Forever

Even if I’d run, the damage would have been done. A deal was made uniting the Roríguez cartel and the Kansas City Famiglia. Much the same as for the men who swore a vow to the different crime organizations, this marriage was my vow, my promise to be the obedient daughter and wife, a promise that was only escapable through death.

Despite the fanfare, this wedding was a transaction, and soon, I, the daughter of one of Patron Roríguez’s top lieutenants, would be the property of the Kansas City Famiglia, more specifically, of Dario Luciano.

Over my twenty-four years, I’d read stories and watched movies about women throughout history calmly walking to their death. With each step closer to my future husband, I pictured some of those women. Anne Boleyn and Mary, Queen of Scots came to mind.

As hundreds of pairs of eyes watched my progression, my mind fixated on the two queens, one killed by her husband and the other by her cousin. Those stories were from the past, yet the irony wasn’t lost on me. The family members seated to either side would consider my failure to marry as betrayal, punishable by the same fate as the queens endured.

Camila’s and Mireya’s smiles reminded me to lift my cheeks.

For the last few yards to the gazebo housing the altar, my mind was no longer thinking about ancient history. Those thoughts were lost, sucked into the black abyss of Dario’s dark stare. The future capo of the Kansas City crime family had his attention laser-focused on me. Even through the lace of my veil, I physically felt the scorch of his gaze warming my skin, singeing my flesh, and leaving goose bumps in its wake.

Dressed in his custom suit, Dario was as handsome as he was intimidating. Towering at least eight inches taller than I, he stood statuesque next to his brother, Dante—a younger version of Dario. Dario’s wide shoulders created the V to his trim torso. With his dark hair combed back away from his forehead, I dared a glance at his prominent cheekbones, and the sharp edge to his clean-shaven chin.

He wasn’t capo yet, but his aura personified the title.

As Papá and I came to a stop, the priest began speaking. While everyone around me was speaking English, what I heard was foreign, an unrecognizable agreement. Like the teacher on the oldPeanutsshow, the words were garbled. Papá lifted my veil. I watched as if in slow motion as Papá placed my hand in Dario’s larger one.

The giving away of the bride.

An object—transaction.

Dario’s fingers surrounded mine as I willed myself to stay calm. Years of experience within the cartel had secured my mask. I could appear the perfect blushing bride with eyes only for her future husband. While the guests could be fooled, I doubted Dario was. After all, he undoubtedly felt the way my hand trembled in his.

“Today,” the priest said, “we gather together to witness the holy union of Catalina Ruiz and Dario Luciano.”

ChapterEight

Catalina

As the priest began his prayer, I lifted my chin in search of Dario’s expression. As it was for most of our talk last night, his countenance was unreadable. His eyes were open, staring at the man with the collar and robes. Once the prayer was over, Dario squeezed my hand as a slight smile threatened his mask.

I willed myself to remain standing as different readings of Bible verses were given. It was easier than I imagined, blocking the world away and concentrating on my breathing; that was, until the priest asked, “Catalina Ruiz and Dario Luciano, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

My first instinct was to laugh.

Dario’s deep affirmative response reminded me of my role.

“Yes,” I said after Dario.

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other as long as you both shall live?”

Now and forever.

In alive, out dead.

My gaze went to Dario, who effortlessly gave his oath. He turned to me.

My voice came out stronger than I even hoped. “I am.”

“Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and His Church.”

Our hands were already joined.

Dario was the first to speak. “I, Dario Luciano, take you, Catalina Ruiz, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

I wanted to believe him.

It was a childish desire, yet I couldn’t push it away.

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