Page 97 of Heartless Vows

I swallow and brace my hands on the vanity. He closes his eyes and covers my hips with his massive hands. After a few calming breaths, he pulls out and wipes up the worst of the mess with a few tissues from the counter before fixing my panties and tucking himself away.

He steps back and lifts me onto my feet before turning me around and wrapping my fingers around my bouquet. With a clean tissue, he dabs at my cheeks and kisses my forehead.

“Don’t be late,mio amore,” he says with a smirk before leaving me gaping after him.

With an annoyed huff, I turn and grimace at my reflection until my flushed cheeks and sparkling emerald irises outshine my smudged makeup. A small smile creeps across my face.

I’ve never felt so alive.

Without a trace of my previous nervousness, I fix my makeup and remain in a daze until I stand in front of the closed double doors at the end of the hall.

I honestly didn’t know what my ideal wedding looked like, but Giorgio figured it out. When I hesitated so long Tristan suggested an internet café, my husband announced he’d decide where we would hold both weddings.

And I’m so fucking glad he did. With my mother in recovery and my father in mental shambles, neither will be here today, which is sadly another thing I’m grateful for.

I take a deep breath and push open the doors.

The heady smell of forest washes over me and the gentle sound of flowing water is the perfect backdrop for the view.

Giorgio stands at the bottom of a set of stairs in the middle of the indoor garden. Serenity sits on the bench near the fountain with Nico standing behind her and Camilla—who I re-met a few days after I recovered from my blood loss—perches on the ledge of the fountain a few feet away from them.

Tristan shuffles from one foot to the other on the opposite side of the clearing, but the flush on his cheeks assures me it’s from excitement and not worry. Fiero, who I haven’t seen in weeks, smiles down at my brother before lifting his gaze toward me.

Besides the guards surrounding the perimeter, I know everyone here except for the woman at Fiero’s side, and I’m not sure what to think of her. She smiles politely until Fiero bumps shoulders with her. Her eyes spit fire at him. But the moment is so fleeting I wonder if the setting sun teasing through the leavesplayed tricks on me, because when she turns her attention back up the stairs, she’s pure politeness.

Giorgio presses a button on a little black remote. The overhead fluorescents turn off and tiny fairy lights twinkle along the path and in the trees. Tears clog my throat as I realize he also tied small kites along the branches, mimicking the design on our rings.

With joy overflowing my heart, I meet Giorgio’s eyes and start down the stairs. Almost safely at the bottom, I smile and loosen my shoulders, only to squeak in alarm as I miscalculate the last step. My bouquet flies out of my hand as I grab for the railing. I miss.

Giorgio catches me before I hit the ground.

When my heart stops trying to pound out of my chest, an incredulous snort escapes me at how perfect this moment would be in a fairytale.

Pleasure lifts my husband’s tempting lips. The reverence, joy, and filthy promises in his dark chocolate eyes melt my heart. I hook my arms around his nape and pull myself up to join our mouths together.

It doesn’t matter how many times I kiss this man; I’ll always want more.

When he finally peels his mouth off mine and rises, I wrap my arm around his waist, plastering myself against his side, and give a dazed smile and head shake to the woman I’ve never met when she tries to hand me my bouquet back.

“I don’t need it anymore, and you caught it fair and square, so it’s yours now,” I tell her.

She opens her mouth, but Fiero grabs her arm. She clamps her teeth together and glares at him over her shoulder.

Giorgio drags me forward, snapping my attention to the simple wooden altar.

His physician, Dr. Karl, gives a fleeting smile before beginning his spiel.

I haven’t known him for very long, but Dr. Karl has already proven more capable and caring than all the other doctors I’ve had in my entire life. I don’t know how Giorgio thought of him officiating, but it’s perfect.

Giorgio pulls me impossibly tighter against his side. I squeeze him, demanding his attention.

He’s mine. My ruthless mafia don. My trustworthy life partner. My husband. Mine.

And I’m his.

Always.

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