Page 199 of Beautifully Ruined
There’sa small part of me that wants to slap myself, just to make sure I’m not dreaming as I wait in the small church in Brooklyn for my bride.
My beautiful pregnant bride.
It’s not a usual wedding day. A Tuesday afternoon.
Neither me nor my bride are religious, but there is a part of me that can’t shake the fact a higher power somewhere helped keep Violet safe. That something bigger than anything I know led her to date my brother and then put her squarely in my arms.
We’re pregnant. We’re having a fucking baby. I’m going to be a dad. The test is in my pocket, it’s like a good luck charm for today.
There are a few friends and family here. Jack and Enzo by my side. A few other friends, a wild mix of people from The Syndicate on my side along with a portion of the mafia. And I have to give it to uncle Gino, as he is now insisting I call him. He made the church service happen on the day we wanted.
The bride’s side has friends of Vi’s from school, from the political office, as well as Cassandra and Gianna who I’ve seen my brother eye off. I’ll have to have a word with him about treading carefully, though he’s done a lot of growing.
The music starts and everything in me stills as Lia comes down the aisle in sea green, followed by Violet.
She is stunning in a simple, silk dress that fits her perfectly. Of course, as far as I’m concerned, she’d be a vision wearing a garbage bag.
She steals my very breath and lights up the entire air in the church with her presence, and her smile as she looks at me almost floors me.
When she gets to the altar, I’m grinning too, and I barely hear the words of the priest. It takes Jack to elbow me to make me respond.
I slip the ring on her finger, and she does the same with me.
We’re fucking pregnant.
We didn’t write our own vows. Mine are something I plan to say tonight. They’re dirty, sappy, true. And from the light in her eyes as we exchange the churchly ‘I dos’, hers are the same.
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest says.
I kiss her with my soul and heart behind it but keep the heat firmly in my pants.
Then we walk out of the church as husband and wife. Officially.
Later tonight, I’m presenting her with a choker, something small, but a sign of my ownership of her, something to celebrateour darker side. I’ll expect her to wear it when we play. When we go out and feel naughty.
Knowing Vi, she’ll wear it all the time.
I turn to her and whisper, “We’re having a fucking baby, Vi.”
“I know, I told you that.”
“I’m just saying, I fucking love you and that baby.”
“Cade?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you and our baby, too.”
I squeeze her hand.
Outside the church, uncle Gino, who’s platonically smitten with Vi, comes up and gives her a fatherly hug.
“I’ve worked out my favor.” This is typical Gino. He hasn’t mentioned the threat made by Zayne, but he likes to sound out favors and gauge my reaction. Sometimes, I do them because, as Enzo has said, they’re actually good jobs.
“You have?” I say. “And what’s that?”
“I want your wife to work with my son, Lou. He’s a good boy,” He makes it sound like it’s a dirty word. “He wants to go into politics, so he’ll need someone to put together a good team.”
