Page 136 of Mafia and Gold Digger

Our eyes lock, and something stabs at my chest. I told her once, and I’ll tell her over and over again, she’s mine. Today’s just making it official.

It takes her far too long to approach the altar, hand off her bouquet to Milena, and face me.

I take her hands, thumb brushing over her knuckles in some attempt to reach her. To soothe that look in her face. Once this is over, I’ll come clean. I’ll do what I haven’t been able to do since I arrived in New York. Be honest with her—fully honest about my emotions.

Then I won’t have to worry about losing her over it. Because she’ll know the truth.

I squeeze her hand softly, trying to find that spark in her eyes that makes my chest hurt every time I catch her looking at me with it. That look that makes me feel like I can be a better man. Makes me want to be—for her.

I didn’t lie when I told her I wanted this for real, when I worshiped her as she deserved, when I claimed her as my own in every way I could. And yet, it all feels so far away from now. A distant memory that’s shattered into a million pieces.

The priest drones on and on about how holy this union is and how beautiful marriage can be, but Emerald’s expression remains guarded. Not a frown, but she’s not smiling either...

Is something wrong? My eyes dart around the place as the alarm bells ring too loud to be ignored.

“Valentino Veneti and Emerald Fiorelli, have you come to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

The words snap me back to the ceremony at hand, and I look to the weathered faced of the priest. “I have.”

Emerald inhales sharply. “I have.”

My eyes slide back to her, my brow furrowing just slightly as the priest continues with his questions about love and marriage and children and a bunch of shit I don’t care about but agree to anyway. My eyes are glued to Emerald’s.

“Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of holy matrimony, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and his church.”

I swallow as my grip on Emerald’s hand tightens. I lock eyes on her, trying to pour some kind of emotion into my gaze, some truth into the words as they spill past my lips. “I, Valentino Veneti, take Emerald Fiorelli to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

I feel her hand tremble in my own.

Her eyes dart past me.

“Emerald…?” The priest prompts her for her vows.

My hand tightens. My eyes narrow slightly. And my heart pounds in my chest.

But before she can say anything, a voice pipes up. “You can’t marry him, Emerald!”

I spin around.

A shared gasp reverberates around the church.

And my eyes dart around.

Trying to find the offender.

But I already recognize the voice...

And I can’t help the groan that escapes me.

“He’s nothing but a freaking cereal thief!” the voice continues.

And Jaspar’s glaring at me, his tiny fists crossed over his small chest.

Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell has gotten into the kid?And why the hell did I ever think it was a good idea to take a box of Lucky Charms from a six-year-old kid in the first place?

I start to speak. “Look, Jaspar, come on?—”

But someone else says something, the mocking voice echoing in the silence of the large church. “She’s just a whore and a gold digger. I don’t know why anyone would want to marry a slut like her.” And as a few people nod in agreement, I realize that it’s Ria Gioberti speaking. And Emerald’s face falls, embarrassment and humiliation flushing her cheeks as she hears Ria’s cruel comments.