Page 64 of Third Degree

“Then have the men stand down and let’s finish this fucking event.” My father turned away from me before he spoke. “This isn’t for you. This is for the family business.”

That stung. The words cut through me like a knife, leaving behind a searing pain I hadn’t expected. I had always resented the constraints of my upbringing, the suffocating culture that dictated my every move. But in that moment, I realized that my father was not solely to blame. He, too, was a victim of circumstance, bound by the pressures of our family’s business.

Gratitude mingled with bitterness as I acknowledged the last ten years of freedom, allowing me to venture beyond the confines of our culture and tradition. I knew the sacrifices he had made, the battles he had fought against those who deemed him weak for indulging his daughter’s desires.

Yet the realization that this wedding was solely orchestrated for the sake of the business, disregarding my own wishes, pierced my heart like a thousand arrows. It was a painful reminder that my voice and desires were secondary to the machinations of our family’s legacy.

Anguish engulfed me as I grappled with conflicting emotions. I loved my father, but his words struck at the core of my being, tearing down the fragile illusions I had clung to.

The truth, raw and unfiltered, hurt more than I had ever imagined.

In that moment, I was confronted with the harsh reality that I was merely a pawn in a game of power and prestige. My dreams, my hopes, and my autonomy were sacrificed on the altar of tradition and business alliances.

I barely registered Elio, who had walked toward me, and everyone else had cleared out of the aisle. I looked up at him as his large figure blocked the sun. He was so handsomely intimidating in his suit. He still had his Glock in his other hand, and he looked so distinguished and powerful in this moment.

I would be remiss to say that it didn’t totally turn me on knowing what he did for me and knowing we were going to be husband and wife.

I had tucked that part away in the back of my head today because I knew I would have to finally lose my virginity. I figured I would just kind of disassociate when I was forced to do it, but with Elio, I didn’t know if that was even possible.

But also, I was so confused and shit, I was pissed at him. Mad that he, too, had taken my choice away. He put my protection before my right to choose, and I hated that.Heknew that I would hate that.

“Do you trust me, Gianna?” Elio’s voice was hushed, barely audible amidst the hum of the crowd.

He tucked the weapon back into his waistband as he offered his hand to me. I hesitated for a moment, and I saw immediately how that moment of indecision hurt him.

“I’m really upset with you,” I leaned in and whispered in his ear, fully aware that we had an audience, including my father’s piercing eyes staring at us, and it clearly wasn’t the time to have a lover’s spat.

But if I was going to go into a marriage, then I sure as fuck wouldn’t go into it not telling him the truth. That his actions hurt me.

“I know. I will spend my lifetime and the next making it up to you. I promise I will explain everything later.” He offered his arm to me.

I hesitated, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. Trust was a fragile thing, easily broken and hard to mend. But as I looked into his eyes, a part of me longed to believe in the possibility of redemption, of a love that could defy all odds.

“Let me ask you again, rosa mia. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely reaching his ears. “But trust is something we’ll have to rebuild, Elio.”

“I promise.” He led me to where we had originally been standing at the front of the aisle, and I held both of his hands as Ricardo began the wedding ceremony.

I honestly couldn’t tell you what he said. It went in one ear and out the other because all I could see was the excitement on Elio’s face. He had gone through this before, but this was new for him. This was new for both of us.

As the officiant was talking to the crowd, Elio was fixated on me. “Do you like your dress?” He looked behind me at the massiveness of it all. Suddenly, I felt as if it had grown in size and the poofs had been… well, poofing.

“I hate it,” I admitted quietly, making sure everyone was looking at Ricardo, who was talking.

Elio laughed, and I was uncomfortable that everyone was looking at us. He pulled the veil off my face, and I was struck by how handsome he looked yet again.

“It doesn’t remind me of something you would pick.”

I offered a tight-lipped smile at his confession, and then I heard Ricardo say that we were exchanging rings.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

Admittedly, I did feel okay. I hated that.

Elio looked over at Julian, who handed him a small velvet box. He opened it, displaying a very dainty diamond-encrusted wedding band. It was feminine, delicate, and beautiful.

“This is just the band.” Elio looked anxious, as if he assumed I was expecting something larger.

---