Page 30 of Brutal Devil
I stop pacing just in front of Rocco and lay my hands on his shoulders. “Look at me, Roc.” I wait until we’re locked in a death glare before continuing. “By the time this is through, Amedeo Revello is going to be in hell where he belongs, and the Andrianis are going to be the kingmakers of this city.”
For a few seconds, Rocco doesn’t say anything. He just stares back at me, unflinching.
And then he breaks into a grin.
“I’ll tell the boys to give him an extra frisk or two just to piss him off.”
“Thanks, Roc.”
I watch him go and tug at my bow tie, which suddenly feels like a noose.
We’re going to run this fucking place.
Or we’re going to die trying.
Luna
Our driver pulls up to the city’s most impressive church, a proud and beautiful cathedral that stands in stark contrast to the behemoth of skyscrapers, busy streets, and sidewalks that have proliferated around it. I shouldn’t be surprised this is where I’m supposed to be marrying a mobster, but somehow I am. It’s clear that Priest isn’t keeping this whole farce a secret.
The fucking bastard. He’s rubbing this wedding in the whole city’s faces, cops, mobsters, DAs, and all.
“Shit,” I mutter, my stomach tightening into a massive knot of dread.
It’s getting real now. I haven’t been able to think straight, let alone make a run for it, ever since the knock on my door this morning. I’ve had about thirty seconds alone total—just long enough to, as Saint the gentleman put it, cover my tits and ass.
“What’s wrong, sis?” he asks cheekily from the other side of the G-Wagon.
He’s been in a pleasant mood. Which, given he’s armed and dangerous, is probably a good thing for me. Except that my nerves are shot. And his grin is hateful. So is his presence. He’s the enemy, just like the rest of his brothers, and every one of them is the reason I don’t have mine here to protect me now.
The reminder sends bitter ice chasing through me, my heart aching at the thought of Leo.
“I’m not your sister,” I snap at Saint.
“Thank fuck. Because it would be weird for you to be marrying my big bro if you were.”
Another reminder I don’t want. With every minute that ticks by, I’m one step closer to getting married. My chances of escaping this life, which seemed so high a mere few days ago, are dwindling faster than toilet paper on a pandemic-era Costco shelf.
“I don’t want to marry him,” I tell Saint. “It’s not too late for you to do the right thing and let me go.”
I implore him with my eyes, thinking of how easy it would be, how seamlessly I could melt into the crowds and never look back. Either way, I’m going to run when I have the chance. With his blessing or without, it doesn’t make a difference to me.
“No.” He shakes his head, the grin fading as he leans toward me. “The right thing is the two of you getting married. The families need to be united under one don. You marry Priest, everyone wins.”
“Except for me.”
That much is true. If my marrying Priest succeeds in bringing the families back together and staving off my greedy cousin Amedeo, the Andrianis become kings of the city. My dad is spared. And the only one who suffers is me.
In an instant, Saint unclicks his belt and slides across the Nappa leather bench seat, his face as dark and angry as a summer thundercloud.
He gets in my face. “Listen to me, Luna Revello. You are going into that fucking church, and you are marrying my brother today. If you try to run, I will shoot you. You understand that, don’t you?”
I swallow hard but hold his stare, unflinching. “If you kill me, how is your asshole brother going to marry me? He may have pulled strings to get the marriage license, but the last time I checked, not even a Mafia don could marry a corpse in this city.”
Saint shrugs, callously cruel. “If you refuse to marry Priest, we’re all as good as dead anyway, so you may as well be too. Don’t think you can escape this. There’s only one way out.”
Death.
I don’t say it, but marrying Priest is the same thing to me. It’s the loss of my freedom, my future, everything I want for myself. It’s surrender.
