Page 112 of Sinful Wrath

I shake my head. “I thought I did.”

“Look.” He wipes away the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs. “Did you hear what I answered?”

I lower my head and shake it. “I had heard enough by then, I wasn’t going to stick around and listen anymore.”

“Well, you should have. Because if you had stuck around to listen to the whole conversation, you would have heard me tell Anton that I love you.”

What?

“The last thing I want to do is get out of this marriage, Lucia.” He bows his head to rest his forehead against mine. “Because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to be mine. To be able to shout to the world that you are my wife.”

I have no words.

“You’ve brought me to life, Lucia, and I will happily spend the rest of my days making sure you know how much I love you.”

“Mikhail…”

“I love you, Lucia.” Mikhail cups my face and leans in to kiss me.

The caress of his lips against mine has the last of mystrength shattering, and I cling to his shirt as tears start pouring down my cheeks.

“I promise I will find who did this.”

I nod, my throat too thick with tears to speak.

“And then once your father is well again, I will make sure we have a proper wedding. The kind of wedding that you’ve been dreaming of your whole life.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again.

“I love you,” I whisper against his lips as I sink my fingers into his hair.

“I have something for you,” Mikhail says after we break apart. “I was going to give you this last night so you could wear it for the wedding.”

My stomach twists with guilt as he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a red box.

“This was my mother’s.” He opens up the box to reveal a gold heart-shaped locket.

“You want me to have it?”

“I want you to have something to remind you that I am always with you, Lucia.” He offers me a shy smile before taking the locket and clasping it around my neck.

“It’s beautiful.” I finger the delicate gold chain. “It’s an honor to wear it, Mikhail.”

“Miss Conti?”

I whirl at the sound of my name, my hand going to my heart as I find a doctor coming toward me, his expression unreadable.

Mikhail wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me tight against him as we brace ourselves for the worst.

“H-how is he?”

“He’s made it out of surgery, but he’s still critical.”

Mikhail frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Your father’s injuries were severe. One of the bullets in his chest ruptured his left ventricle.”

“Oh god.” I reach for Mikhail.

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