Page 106 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

Absent-mindedly, I traced the rose tattoo on his hand with a featherlight touch. A quick flash of an image. A man’s hand with a rose tattoo reaching for me. The image was clear as day. My eyes lowered to the tattoo on his hand. Now I knew it was Cassio’s tattoo, but I needed more. Patience was a virtue, I was told. But to me it wasn’t. Remembering it all was life or death to me.

Then a memory came. Out of nowhere, clear as day.

“The prime minister’s daughter?” The pilot I had never seen shouted, watching the man behind me. The pilot seemed shocked, but I focused on the hands keeping me safe. Tattooed hands keeping me secured.

“Butterfly, can I check your shoulder?” A low voice asked tentatively. I met the familiar dark gaze, waiting for my permission. I didn’t understand why he wanted to check it, but I trusted him. He saved me. I gave him a small nod and his inked hand unbuttoned top button of my dirty blouse and checked the back of my shoulder. It only took a second before he buttoned my shirt back.

“Thank you.”

My eyes locked on Cassio’s one hand that rested around me. My brows furrowed. These images were so disjointed, it was hard to understand them. It almost felt like a memory, but then it didn’t.

“Why can’t I remember?” I asked him, raising my eyes to his. “It’s like a disjointed, broken up movie with bits and pieces.”

“Probably a combination of a coping mechanism and other stuff,” he answered. He wouldn’t tell me anything else, I knew it.

“Two years ago, did you know who I was?” I was all over the place, the topics incoherent but somehow connected in my mind.

“Yes.” When I arched my brow, he continued. “There aren’t two of you, Butterfly. I recognized you the second you bumped into me.”

My heart acted weird around him. My whole body hummed with anticipation.

“The arranged marriage with Margaret-” The words trailed off. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say.

“Callahan wouldn’t let me have you,” he finally said as if he could read my thoughts. “It has always been you, Áine.” My heart raced, unlike ever before. He was the only man that managed to stir this reaction. “There hasn’t been another woman for me since we crossed paths two years ago.”

Bum. Bum.

Bum. Bum.

Bum. Bum.

If there was a part of me I held back, it just became Hunter’s. He owned every ounce of me. If he dragged me to hell, I’d follow. Because Cassio Hunter King was safety, craving and love, all wrapped in one.

“I don’t want to marry you for a wedding that was arranged for Margaret,” I admitted in a low voice. It was petty, but I wanted something just his and just mine. He wasmine. To hell with anyone else.

He sat up, pulling me up with him. “What are you saying?”

“Can’t it just be you and me?” I asked. “We could do the big wedding some other time.”

He watched me pensively, but it was hard to tell what thoughts crossed his mind.

“Your parents won’t be happy.”

“Okay, so we tell them to meet us at City Hall,” I suggested. “Your family too.”

He chuckled softly, pressing his mouth against mine. “I like that idea. Let’s do a big wedding in Italy with Nonno. He pretty much raised Luca and I.” I nodded eagerly, loving this idea with every second. “Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife.”

ChapterThirty-Four

CASSIO

City Hall was empty, and it smelled of old paper, years of wedding vows and promises made in front of officiants.

For the hundredth time today, my eyes darted Áine’s way. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, her steps keeping up with me and my eyes sought out her ocean blues again. Her presence calmed me, settled me in the best way possible. Her hands clutched the dress, lifting it off the floor. The dress was simple, accenting her slim waist. The neckline was accentuated but not too much and her hair framed her face, the color stark against the pearl white of the silky dress. And those lips!

She carried herself like a queen. My queen.

The last few days went unexpectedly. After our midnight pillow talk, I sent a message to Luca, Bianca and Nico asking them to meet us at City Hall. Áine did the same with her parents and Margaret.

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