Page 10 of Immoral

Gianni

All the timesGianni let me down, this was the one that hurt the most. I beat myself up for months for letting him back in my life. Another year passed, and right as I was moving forward with my life, he showed up again.

This time, I wouldn't let him near me. And ever since then, I've held my ground.

Gianni Marino is nothing but a man with no conscience. If he had one, he'd never have played me all those years. He wouldn't have taken my love and tossed it aside as if it was worthless.

Now, the same wedding dress stares at me, mocking me further. I blink hard, wishing I wasn't getting emotional about this dress. It's a cruel reminder of the pain he's caused me and all the empty promises I believed in.

"Three minutes," Gianni's voice booms, pulling me out of my hop down memory lane.

With shaking hands, I pull the dress off the hanger and step into it. I slide my feet into the designer heels and zip the dress as far up as possible.

What am I doing?

There's no other choice. Uberto will hurt or kill me.

I put my hand on the wall to steady myself. Years ago, this would be my dream come true. Now, being Mrs. Gianni Marino only feels like a nightmare.

"Two!" he shouts.

I take a deep breath then spin. I open the door. Gianni stares at me with a cocky expression on his face. I say nothing and turn for him to zip me up.

The bastard drags his finger over my spine. Zings burst in my nerves. I curse myself, shuddering, still unable to control my reaction to his touch.

His hot breath hits my neck, sending tingles down my back. He slowly pulls the zipper up. He says in a voice so low, only I can hear him, "I always imagined you in this dress."

I spin, glaring at him. "When did you buy this?"

Guilt, which isn't something I ever see on Gianni, floods his expression. His eyes dart down the front of my body then back to my gaze. He answers, "The same day we saw it."

Anger slaps me in the face. I seethe, "Why?"

He straightens his shoulders and licks his lips. "You know why."

"No. I don't."

He arches an eyebrow as if I really do know why.

I cross my arms and tilt my head, pissed he's choosing to play another one of his games with me at this moment.

He studies me longer then states, as if it's true, "You know you've always been mine, Cara. You were always meant to be my wife."

I huff, trying not to cry. The last thing I need is Gianni getting in my head again. After everything I just went through, I don't trust my emotions. I grit my teeth, managing to get out, "Do me a favor. Don't attempt to play me for the hundredth time. If you do, I assure you that I'll cut your balls off while you're sleeping."

He insists in the same voice he always has, "I'm not playing you."

I snort. "Sure." I turn to the officiant. "Can we get this over with?"

The man's face turns red. He shifts on his feet and nods. "Yes."

Gianni grabs my hands. I try to pull away, but he has a death grip on them. I avoid looking at him, focusing on the officiant.

He clears his throat. "Do you, Gianni Marino, take Cara Serrano, to be your lawful wife?"

I attempt to ignore Gianni, but he turns my chin toward him. "I do."

I scowl, not believing this is happening or that I'm in this situation. Butterflies spread their wings in my stomach, making me feel nauseous.

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