Page 92 of Till Death Do Us Part

“You’re right,” I said, keeping my tone even, though I was trembling. “I won’t be sorry.Youwill. Are you going to keep me locked up, Jack? Because that’s the only way you’re going to stop me from killing you.”

“You don’t mean that. You’re just mad.”

I glared at my father. How did he ever think this buffoon was perfect for me? He sighed.

Alfonso came out of the church. “We’re ready to get started.”

“I wonder how these pictures are going to look?” I said to their backs. “The trophy wife all soiled in her wedding dress. Are you going to be able to show them off? Because I positivelycan’twait.”

“We’re having a big wedding in Chicago,” Jack said. “This is just to satisfy the arrangement.”

“Are you going to force me down the aisle again? Because that’s the only way.”

“I can be persuasive,” Alfonso said.

“How persuasive are you going to be when Felice finds out about this?”

“Felice has no say here,” Alfonso snapped at me. “He can’t touch me, and I can’t touch him. There’s an agreement in place—between his family and mine. I haven’t touched him. This is considered business and all’s fair when it comes to that.”

Oh, another loophole, like with the penthouse.

“You’re touching whobelongs to him,” Lobit back.

“Quiet,” my father snapped at her.

The church was empty besides us and the priest standing at the altar. Crawford and two of his men stood outside. I guessed the two men in the car with my sisters stayed by the road, waiting for any signs of unwanted guests. Babbo took a seat on the first pew, my sisters sliding in next to him.

Alfonso took a seat on the opposite side, all by himself in the pew.

Jack turned to me, but I refused to turn to him. The priest cleared his throat, but I refused to move. Jack sighed, took me by the shoulders, and almost mechanically turned me to face him.

“Hello,” he whispered, like we hadn’t seen each other in ages, and he was being romantic.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I’m not cautious of those eyes anymore.” He grinned. “Now I think you’re adorable when you’re mad.”

It was a waste of breath to even respond, and I was having trouble taking those. The priest had already started talking. It seemed like he was talking too fast. He was American. Maybe from New York. I almost wanted to shout at him to slow down some. A buzzing had started in my ears, and he was only making it worse.

He got to the part where the congregation is asked to speak now or forever hold their peace.

“We can skip that part,” Alfonso said, staring at my sisters.

“I object.”

We all turned toward the voice. Felice stood in the doorway of the church, dripping water and blood all over the floor. He looked absolutely mad. His hair was matted to his face, his eyes were dilated, and he held a gun in his hand. It was aimed at Alfonso.

“Come to me, Roma,” Felice said in Italian, but he never took his eyes off Alfonso.

“Crawford!” Alfonso shouted. “Crawwwwford!”

Felice grinned, and blood coated his teeth. “You can go out back and dig another grave for him in the yard once I take what’s mine and leave. For his friends too.”

I snapped out of my shock and grabbed the dress, about to bolt. Jack went to stop me, but Alfonso stepped in front of him and pushed him back. I collided into Felice, but he was unmovable. He put an arm around me, keeping me close to his side.

“It would be nothing to pull this trigger and kill you, but that would be too easy, too quick. Your pride being this wounded? That’s going to be the slow, painful death you deserve. Just wait for it. It’s coming.”

He kept his arm wrapped around me as we left.

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