Page 57 of Sins of Bliss
From beside us, the priest—monsignor?—begins to whisper a prayer.
“I would never let you marry a man who harms you, Vincenza. As it is, the only man you should be marrying isme, and I hope you will.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the man sitting next to Joseph begin to stand. “Sit down!” I snap, turning my gun to him.
Joseph mirrors the man as he pushes to his feet. “I’m going to ki?—“
“Sit down, unless you’re ready to join August in death,” I snarl, cocking the gun. The sound reverberates all around.
The man next to Joseph puts his hands in front of him, and they slowly sit back down. There's a wildness in Joseph’s eyes as he stares at me—something dark and unrefined. I am mildly surprised when he lowers himself to the pew, yielding my threat.
Next to them both is a couple—perhaps August’s parents. The man’s face is beet-red, looking as though he’s daydreaming about strangling me.
Narrowing my eyes, I send a clear, but silent, message.
Don’t even think about it.
Next to him, the woman cries.
Slowly, when I am more certain Joseph isn’t going to try anything, I reposition the barrel of my gun to face Vinnie’s father, Maurizio, before turning my attention back to her.
Her eyes are glassy as she stares into mine. “You knew August was hurting me?”
“I figured it out, amore mio. You should have told me he was holding the threat of my life over your head. I would have protected you.”
“I was protectingyou,” she whimpers, and I can see the truth in her eyes—and the fear. She believed August would have harmed me, all while it was her enduring the suffering.
Dropping my voice, I ask a question that’s been plaguing me, one that I would shoot August’s corpse again for, depending on her answer. “Piccola ladra, was he forcing himself on you? Did he hurt you in any other way?”
“No,” Vinnie tells me, shaking her head. “He said he liked his women willing, and since I was not, he was waiting for our wedding night.” A tremor runs through her body as she says the words, a clear look of disgust on her face.
Relief washes through me. “We have a lot to discuss, but I would like to save that for later. Right now, I would very much like to marry you.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and she glances at August’s body as it cools at her feet. “Now?”
I can’t help but to smile. She is beautiful, even when she is painted in red. “Sì, now. I can’t wait another minute to make you my wife.”
Still, my gun never wavers from being pointed at her father.
As though they can hear our conversation, Sully, Enzo, and Nixon appear from the side of the church and approach us.
A quiet layer of whispers settles among the guests as they watch my friend's approach—all wearing tuxedos, looking as though they’re meant to be a part of the bridal party.
“And you all call me the dramatic one,” Sully mumbles as he produces a black velvet box from inside his jacket pocket and hands it to me before sauntering over to where August’s family sits, taking the seat next to the man who I presume is his father.
Without commentary, Nixon and Enzo pick up August’s body and carry him out of God’s house. A trail of ruby-red blood drips across the white marble floor of the church, following behind them like an unwanted shadow.
I feel mildly guilty for the location of where I was forced to kill August, but I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
I should have done it sooner.
Looking back at Vinnie, I lift her chin with my pointer finger. Her eyes—no longer full of tears—sparkle with a flicker of happiness that I haven’t seen in months.
“Marry me,” I repeat. “Be my wife. Make me the happiest man on this continent and the next. Let me love and cherish you as you deserve. Let me father your children and take care of the family we create together. Marry me and be my forever.”
Without hesitation, Vinnie closes the distance between us and presses her lips to mine. “Yes,” she breathes against my lips. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
A collective gasp sounds, but I ignore the chatter and chaos as it emits around us. Instead, I take my time kissing my fiancée slowly and sweetly. “Ti amo, piccola ladra. Più di quanto le parole possano descrivere.”I love you, little thief. More than words can describe.
