Page 37 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
“Do it. I’ll take my chances.”
“I’d rather have you in one piece for this next part.”
My blood burns at the thought of what comes next. My God, what is wrong with me?
He starts descending again. I have no idea where we go when we reach the bottom of the stairwell. He turns a corner and then another. I know it’s a catacomb down here. There’s a crypt somewhere.
The old passages that were once used for smuggling contraband and booze back during Prohibition call out to me, as does that secret door, but they’re no good to me now… He’s not about to let me go.
A whisper of cold air slithers under the fabric of my nightgown as he leads me through another tunnel.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask.
“Our marriage room isn’t in the church,” he says. “It’s in the house next door. I wouldn’t feel right fucking you on consecratedground.”
“Oh, so you aren’t a complete heathen,” I say, my words laced with sarcasm. “How lucky am I.”
We enter a room and golden light flickers and dances over the bed. He sets me down on the floor.
“What is this place?” I breathe, looking around.
“The Blood Room. They used to do ceremonies like this back in the day. For the old-world Italian mafiosos. The bed comes with the place.”
It’s a plain bed, like a double cot. And it’s covered in a white sheet.
It dawns on me what it’s for.
I swallow. Hard.
“Nope. Just forget it. I’m not fucking you. We have the cuts, we already bled?—”
“That blood from the ceremony isn’t going to cut it. They want the blood of the room… meaningyours.”
“No.”
He pulls off his jacket. “Virginal blood.”
“Not happening.” I back away.
Torin creeps toward me. “Oh, it’s happening.”
“Try and make me. See what happens.”
I throw the flowers at him and he catches the bouquet midair.
“Oh, so you do like the chase.” A devilish grin lifts his lips. “Well, then. Challenge accepted,wife.”
NINE
torin
I’m pretty damnsure Cal didn’t fuck his wife the night when he had to marry her.
Still, there was blood on the sheet. I’m sure that’s what Harry’s priest wants with the blood ritual since the superficial wounds on our hands aren’t binding.
But I’ve read everything I could find on the Dark Web about blood weddings in the mafia. They require blood and fluids. The sexual act has to be completed to prove the girl is pure, and by consummating the marriage, she effectively becomes the groom’s property.
“It’s not happening,” she whispers, defiance flashing in her eyes.
