Page 8 of Stolen Vows
I married the last Ricci daughter.
Now I just have to figure out what to do with her.
5
STELLA
Papà leaves us standing there with nothing more than a glare tossed in my direction.
He just…leaves. And even though it shouldn’t hurt, at least not more than everything else he’s done, I can’t stop the sudden ache from lancing straight through my heart.
It’s fucking ridiculous to give a shit when he never gave one about me, or my sisters, but the desire for a parent is intrinsic. I can’t stop the wound from opening up and trying to swallow me whole.
They say a father’s anger lingers forever. What about his absence?
Does that ever stop stinging?
Regardless, I don’t have time to dwell on it. There are far more pressing matters at hand, like the fact my razor blade ended up inLeopoldo’s mouth.
I tried to keep the kiss simple, thinking maybe he’d be satisfied with something superficial to give our witnesses. Clearly, I underestimated the man.
As soon as I could no longer feel it tucked against my lip, I knew I was in deep shit.
When silence blankets the church, I wait for some acknowledgement or for him to take it out to inspect.
Instead, one of his guards—a tall, burly man with a buzz cut and bleak eyes—grabs my biceps and drags me away from the altar. I trip over my feet, trying to keep up with him as he rushes me out a side door and then down a narrow, poorly lit hall.
Only the sound of Leopoldo’s distinct heavy footsteps alerts me to the fact that he’s following us.
We come to a fork in the path, and I’m shoved outside, through the door beneath a glowing EXIT sign. The guard’s grip on me smarts, and I try to extract my arm before it loses all feeling.
“Plotting your escape already?” Leopoldo’s voice bounces off the brick walls surrounding us, ominous with its echo.
We’re sandwiched between three different buildings, the alleyways not big enough for a car to veer down, and it strikes me as an odd place to bring your new wife.
Unless you aren’t planning on letting her leave.
The guard stops when we’re a few feet from one wall, then yanks hard, turning me around to face my husband. As he strides closer, gloved hands shoved in his pockets, my mind flashes briefly back to our kiss.
Once he forced my lips open, it was all flames and no extinguisher. Two angry mouths, each trying to push the other into submission, yet falling into oblivion instead.
For a moment, I lost myself in the heat of it all and forgot my plan entirely.
“Release her,” Leopoldo tells his soldier, though he barks the order while staring at me. He’salwaysstaring at me.
The guard hesitates. “I don’t think that’s a good idea?—”
“She won’t run,” Leopoldo cuts in, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face. “Will you?”
I quickly peek past both sides of him, noting the damp darkness we’re in. Two paths open up on either side of the church, presumably heading toward the street, but there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to fit through them or that there aren’t men waiting at the curb to grab me.
My eyes shift straight ahead, focusing on the slight knot in Leopoldo’s nose. “Where would I even go?”
He waits, and finally, after what feels like a lifetime, the guard drops his hand. I rub at the area, certain that between Papà and him, the skin is already bruised.
“Why did you marry me?” I ask eventually, hoping to keep him talking long enough that maybe he forgets about the razor blade. Since he hasn’t mentioned it yet, I’m not sure what his angle is. It wasn’tthatsmall, but perhaps he was too distracted to really notice. Or he’s waiting for the chance to strike. “You could’ve easily told Papà no if what you wanted was money.”
“Make no mistake, money isalwaysmy priority. But I didn’t feel like traumatizing you further today.”
