Page 37 of Stolen Vows
“What do you want?”my father demands.
Pure evil shines from Mario’s features as he grins.
“Everything,” he responds.
My breath hitches as fresh agony spears up my arm.Something in my brain breaks, and I refuse to call the man beside me my father ever again.
Maybe it’s sharing a room with the two men I once thought were my biggest allies.Maybe it’s the power emanating from Mario.Standing in his presence, Pietro looks haggard, desperate, and disgusting, even in his expensive suit.Maybe it’s the vibrator taking my pleasure to new heights.
Or maybe it’s the little girl trapped inside me seeking someone,anyone, who might cherish me one day.Which makes no sense, since Mario has been nothing but honest about his intention to hurt me, but my wayward heart doesn’t care.
“Go to hell,” Pietro snarls.
“Been there.Done that.Now it’s your turn.Come here, Valentina,” he commands without breaking eye contact with Pietro.
My heart skips a beat as he holds his hand out to me.I shift my weight and grit my teeth against the sharp sensations coiling through my abdomen.
Pietro growls and tugs me backward.The cold fury in Mario’s eyes becomes a raging storm of ice and fire.
My hand burns from lack of circulation.The knife is too far away.I shove my bouquet against Pietro’s wounded ribs and jerk away.My knees wobble.I lunge toward Mario’s outstretched hand but lose my balance in the ridiculous heels.
Mario’s iron arm bands around my back as he catches me.I lose my grip on my bouquet and my veil flies off my head.Flowers and lace scatter over the ground.
Romeo’s scowl flashes through my vision as Mario sets me on my feet and pulls me against his side.
“You’ll regret this,” Pietro sneers.
Mario scoffs, removes his arm from around my back, and sticks his hand into his pocket in a deceptively lazy stance.
Every muscle in my body tightens as he adjusts the intensity of the vibrator.I gasp and grab his sleeve.
Shock widens both Pietro and Romeo’s expressions as they recognize the reason behind my flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.
With his gun pointed at my betrothed and my father, Mario flips the vibrator to a higher setting.I whimper and clutch at his arm as the pressure grows to unbearable heights.
“No, I won’t regret this, but you will.You’ll have nothing but regrets to keep you company from now on, won’t you, Pietro Denaro?”
The brutal truth in his declaration breaks something in the man I once adored.Pietro reaches for his gun.
A single gunshot rings through the cathedral.Pietro’s agonized shout as he drops to the ground echoes through the vaulted ceiling.Despite the women shrieking and ducking, the men remain frozen in a battle no one wants to lose.
Blood spurts from Pietro’s thigh.
The man Mario called a kid on the parking deck roof steps forward, cuffs Pietro’s hands behind his back, and rids him of his weapons before taking over the task of ensuring he watches the rest of the proceedings.
The violence and gore pull me away from the urgent need to come, but when Mario shifts his aim to Romeo, my body instinctively seeks him and I rub my breast on his arm, seeking friction on my hard nipple despite the thick fabric of my bodice.
His golden eyes flick down to mine for half a heartbeat before he focuses on Romeo again.My nerve endings spark with electricity.
“Bring the documents,” Mario commands in a guttural voice.
The priest in charge of the ceremony complies without hesitation.I cling to Mario’s sleeve as I teeter on the edge of orgasm.
“Valentina, baby, don’t do this.You promised me you’d never leave me,” Pietro pleads from the marble floor.
A tray with an official marriage license, already filled out with Mario’s and my full names, and a pen appears beside me.The priest’s robes gleam in the bright lighting while his weathered face remains stoically blank.
I take the pen with an unsteady hand and meet Pietro’s eyes.
