Page 2 of Desire and Revenge

Sebastian’s grip on my hand is firm and reassuring. He flashes me a broad smile, and despite everything, I find myself smiling back.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” he leans down to whisper into my ear. His deep, sultry voice makes me feel like jelly inside.

“A time or two,” I reply, my voice teasing. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” A chuckle slips out of his lips, and he is about to speak again when a cold, hard voice cuts in.

“Congratulations to the happy couple.”

I stiffen, my smile withering into nothing as the silver-haired man joins us.

“Mazza.” My husband nods in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, Papa,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

But Papa’s eyes are locked on Sebastian, his tone sharp, ignoring me completely. I’m not surprised. It’s what I’m used to. A respectable lady is expected to hold her tongue in the presence of men. She’s not to have an opinion except when asked or counter orders disrespectfully. It is considered ill-mannered, taboo, and even more so in the presence of two of the most influential men in Sicily.

“What is he doing here?”

Sebastian shrugs, his hand tightening around my waist, his smile never wavering. “He’s a wedding guest, just like you.”

I guess the “he” being referred to is the stranger lounging in the back pew like a king at leisure. The one who caused the commotion. Even though I don’t know half the people at my own wedding, their faces are familiar enough for me to accept their presence here.

I glance over at the man, taking in his unusual wedding outfit of a dark t-shirt, jeans, and boots. There’s nothing familiar about him. His presence is jarring, almost unsettling. And even without anyone telling me, I can just sense that he’ll be nothing but trouble.

At that moment, he raises his head, and his dark eyes meet mine across the aisle, causing me to freeze and then hurriedly look away. How can a single look from this man send chills down my spine?

Curiosity compels me to glance back a moment later, but he’s gone, vanished as quietly as he appeared.

“We’re going to be late to our wedding party, Mrs. Lucchese,” Sebastian whispers into my ear. I allow him to lead me out of the church and to the sleek, tinted-out SUV waiting right outside.

I’m silent the entire ride to my new home, but on the inside, I’m bubbling with curiosity over the man. Who is he? What does he want? I’m tempted to ask Sebastian about him, but how strange will it be to question your new husband about another man on your wedding day?

I’ll find out who he is, eventually. Women in the mafia are notorious for their gossip. When you spend your whole day sitting still and blending into the furniture until you are needed, it’s almost too easy to get valuable information.

For now, I’ll play the part of the new, silent, and perfect bride who is supposedly overjoyed to start her new life. At the very least, I’ll pretend to be, even if it kills me.

My first thought when we pull into the house almost half an hour later is that it’s far too big. I gape at the mansion as the car comes to a stop in front of a fountain. Two stories and stretching wide as far as the eyes can see, the house looks like something from a fairytale.

“Your house is magnificent,” I say, awestruck.

“It’s your house too, now,” Sebastian replies, stepping out of the car, and barely a second later, my door is pulled open by one of the suited men with a visible shoulder holster.

I’m trying to climb down the car without tripping over the train of my dress and faceplanting when, suddenly, strong hands wrap around my waist and lift me down to the ground.

“Thank you,” I begin, lifting my head to smile at my husband, but instead, I’m met with dark eyes and a mildly irritated expression.

“You must be the beautiful bride,” the man says, his tone clipped and cold.

“Castello,” Sebastian’s voice calls out as he finally rounds the car to our side, a wide smile spreading across his face. “What a pleasant surprise.”

The man’s gaze flickers from me to Sebastian, and I notice the way his posture softens just slightly. “I wouldn’t have missed your wedding for any reason.” I glance at the man again; he’s smiling back at my husband.

“Sofia,” Sebastian says, turning to me with a proud grin, “this is Nero Castello, the best man I know and the only person I proudly call a brother. Well, he isn’t, of course, but we practically grew up together. It’s almost strange not to call him that.”

A man he can call abrother? The word echoes in my mind as I glance back at Nero, who still hasn’t cracked a smile. Even though I now know they aren’t actually related by blood, it’s strange that Sebastian has never mentioned him before. But then again, the things I know about my new husband could only fill a bottle cap.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, forcing a polite smile despite the chill that runs down my spine.

“Welcome to the family, Sofia,” Nero says, his voice lacking any warmth, and I try to look anywhere but at his too-dark, intense eyes.

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