Page 29 of Hot-Blooded Killer

So we had moved the entire plan to the northernmost Catholic church in Vegas—a newer building in a parish with a less rule-bound priest, one who was willing to waive some of the more onerous, time-consuming preparations for a fee.

Also, it doesn’t hurt that he’s a distant cousin, I think as I meet my father at the chapel entrance.

The chapel itself is beautiful, with stark white walls, a desert mural decorating the reredos behind the chancel, and gold and tan inlays in the marble floor echoing the colors and shapes of the mural. The space was cool and soothing, and I knew as soon as I saw it that it would be the perfect wedding venue.

The chancel around the altar is covered in white roses, as are the edges of the pews along the aisle.

Pop leads me to the entrance and holds out an arm to me. “You look beautiful, Principessa,” he murmurs to me.

“And you look incredibly handsome,” I reply.

But as striking as Pop looks, it’s nothing compared to how unbearably gorgeous Lorenzo is, standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for me and wearing a black tuxedo. My mouth dries as I catch sight of him waiting for me.

The string quartet inside the chapel begins playing “Here Comes the Bride” and the doors open, revealing the man who is about to become my husband. Those green eyes of his lock onto mine, and despite the rows of pews full of people who have stood and turned to watch me enter, there might as well have been no one in the chapel but the two of us.

All the faces staring back at me—other than Lorenzo’s—are a blur.

Pop and I begin the stately procession down the aisle, and I find myself smiling as widely as if I were actually in love with Lorenzo.

My blood pounds in my ears so hard I can barely hear anything, but it doesn’t matter.

Lorenzo’s intense gaze holds all my attention, and for an instant, I’m certain I see light and dark fighting for dominance in the way he watches me.

Not until I reach the altar and Pop kisses me on the cheek before taking his seat do I realize that Max, Lorenzo’s older brother, is staring at me just as intently—but without the glint of anticipation I detect in Lorenzo’s eyes.

If I were forced to categorize it, I would say that Max’s stare holds an undercurrent of warning.

Max is Lorenzo’s only groomsman. Instead, he has two candles on his side of the altar, representing the brothers he lost in a car bombing.

The priest had asked us if we wanted to add a section with our own vows, but we opted for a traditional ceremony, eliminating any need for either of us to speak our mind.

I suspect that might be a bad idea in our case.

The ceremony doesn’t take long at all.

Not nearly long enough.

* * *

The reception is a blur.All the appropriate people give speeches, but they’re fairly generic. As best man, Lorenzo’s brother Max tells stories from their childhood—including one about Lorenzo putting on their father’s tuxedo jacket and announcing that he had a very important business meeting to go to. Then he notes that Lorenzo is wearing their father’s tuxedo jacket again today.

Max gives a significant glance at my father when he says this, and Pop raises one eyebrow sardonically.

I’m not sure what the interchange means, but it’s not unusual for a Mafia family. I suspect he’s reminding Pop that the Beneventis are still an important family, even with their patriarch out of the picture.

Similarly, in his speech, Pop talks of me, about how my wedding dress reminds him of the dress I wore for my first communion and how proud he is of the woman I’ve grown up to become.

Significantly, he does not welcome Lorenzo to the family. Instead, he tells my new husband—husband, I can barely think the word—to take care of me, to cherish me, to treat me as the priceless treasure Pop knows me to be.

His words are laced with an implicit threat.

A warning not to harm Pop’s property.

In other words, a typical Mafia wedding reception.

As Lorenzo and I open the dancing, he leans down and whispers in my ear, “You’re mine now, Principessa. And I can’t wait to get back to our room tonight.”

My nipples harden at his words as a rush of heat floods my body, and he flashes a dark smile as I shiver.

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