Page 173 of A Beautiful Crime

Countless Made Men and their trophy wives run with fear fueling them to the exit.

A bloodbath of grand affair is happening and yet Constantine’s lips are still devouring my own. He dominates my mouth. Sensually. Carnally. Ferociously.

And I ache to feel his lips exploring every inch of my skin. Paying special attention to the specific areas that leave me breathless and pleading.

Suddenly this dress feels suffocating. I’m desperate for him to rid me of it and replace it with his flesh upon my own.

Breaking the kiss we breathe heavily in one another’s mouths. Unspoken lust speaking all through the pants of air we’re releasing.

His grip on my chin is bruising but I relish the slight bite of pain. As more gunfire sounds out he places a much softer kiss on my bruised lips. I moan and I can feel his smile.

Eyes mesmerized and burning with desire he says, “Blood shouldn’t look this good on you, amore mia .”

I take in account my wedding dress that now holds splashes of red. Along with the bare skin of my arms with flecks of blood reminiscent of freckles.

He tantalizingly swipes the blood that has painted my décolletage. “You wear the blood of our enemies beautifully.”

The blood within me burns with wild passion. His dark praises sing to me.

“So do you.” My thumb comes to wipe the splash of blood that adorns his cheek.

The moment is severed between us a bullet whizzes past Constantine’s head. The intended bullet lands in the cross right behind him. With a strong hold he hooks me in by the waist and whisks us away from the altar. Urging me to crouch we trample through the throng of dead bodies and dodge the continuous shots.

“Carina! Constantine!” We hear our names being projected across the church. Giving a quick glance I see Rico signaling for us to come his way for safety. He has his gun drawn, blood decorating his face and suit, and the ever so familiar vacant look in his eyes.

He fires three more shots as Constantine safely steers us in his direction. The weight of my dress feels grand. As soon as I can I’m tearing the bottom half to be more accommodating during this massacre.

“Your getaway car is secured and ready,” Rico informs us as he empties his chamber and reloads within seconds and not looking. His tactical skills with the gun remind me of Gino with his knives.

“Eccellente,” Constantine thanks him. We follow Rico’s lead as he travels to the back end of the church, us in tow.

Constantine is sure to keep me protected from any wild shot of a bullet, serving as my very own bullet proof vest.

Once we reach the exit and I feel the air hit my face I allow myself to let out a breath of relief. We have made it out of the massacre unscathed. Now we must return home without a hitch. If everything goes according to plan Gino will have Luca, and Tao will have Savio tied and ready for the beginning to their ends.

It’s twisted and sick how much I’m anticipating their screams.

Our getaway car opens and I expect to see Pietro with his signature playful grin but I don’t see Pietro.

“Giuseppe,” I breathe his name stunned.

I feel Constantine’s hand press firmly and assuringly at my lower back.

I stare at the man who is my papa and has most certainly seen better days. It’s only been less than a week since I saw him last, casted him aside. And in that week he appears worse for wear. Based on the circles under his eyes and the gauntness of his cheeks he hasn’t slept or eaten much.

My heart flares. I work against a swallow that wants to break free into a sob.

Cautiously he takes a step towards me. And when I don’t retreat it propels him to take another.

“I know you wish to not see me. I accept that,” he begins and I hear the sorrow in his tone. It matches the anguish in his eyes. “But I will not stand by a second longer without protecting you the way a papa should protect his daughter.” He works a rough swallow. “So, I ask you, Carina Donati, will you allow me to help protect you? My daughter. My only child.”

I’ve wrestled with myself long enough. My heart has forgiven him. We are both only victims of Savio’s cruelty. And we will be victims no longer.

“I forgive-”

It all happens in a blur. I see the moment his eyes widen with panic and terror before he forcefully shoves me to the ground.

The asphalt tears into my skin. I wince from the sudden impact but don’t feel the sting of the tiny abrasions.

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