Pulling herself from me, Vinnie smiles. “I love you.”
Turning to the Father, I address him, though he looks terrified of my mere presence. I can’t fault him for it—I can admit what I did in the church is horrific. “Father, please continue with the ceremony, but if you would, let us begin again from the statement of intention.”
“Monsignor,” Vincenza whispers, correcting me quietly. Placing her hand in my free hand, she gives it a gentle squeeze.
Shaking profusely, the monsignor turns his terror-stricken eyes to Vinnie. “Miss…Miss Paladino?”
Her smile widens, and she nods her head. “Please continue.”
Her gaze follows the direction of my gun and she looks at her family for a moment. “Sly, please lower the gun. My father is unarmed.”
“I don’t trust him,” I grit, staring at him as he stares at me.
“I understand,” she tells me, her voice soft and sweet like smooth, golden honey. “But he isn’t going to stop this. He would have already.Please.”
It takes me a moment before I am willing to tear my gaze from Maurizio and back to her. When I finally do, her gray-blue eyes shine brightly, and regardless of the tension I feel, a sense of contentment washes over me.
I flick my gaze to Joseph and take in his demeanor. He’s seething—his hands in tight fists on top of his thighs—but he makes no move to stand, which surprises me, until my line of vision lands behind him.
Pressed against the base of his skull is the muzzle of a gun. The corner of Enzo’s lips turn up in a sideways grin as he leans forward in the pew behind Joseph. Next to him, Nixon’s arms are draped over the small space between the two other men, his own gun in his hand.
Satisfaction blooms in my chest, and I turn back tomybride, looking at her as I smile and say, “Please, Monsignor. You may continue.”
With a shaky breath, he addresses me. “What is your name, young man?”
“Sylvester Lucchetti.”
He nods and clears his throat. On his authority, the guests of the church quiet once again.
“Vincenza and Sylvester. Have you come here today, before God, your families, and each other, to enter into a marriage freely, wholeheartedly, and without coercion?” he asks, the tremble in his voice evident.
“I have,” Vincenza and I repeat in unison. Releasing one of her hands, I brush my knuckles against the side of her cheek.
“Are you prepared to join in Holy Matrimony as you come together to follow the path of marriage, united as one, to love and to honor each other as long as you both shall live?”
“I am,” we repeat, and I reach for her hand again, rubbing my thumb against the skin of her ring finger. Within moments, my ring will rest in that very spot.
“Are you prepared to lovingly accept God's children and bring them up according to the love and Law of Christ and his Church?”
It’s all I’ve been dreaming of—life and a family with Vinnie.
There is no hesitation when I say, “I am.” Her words collide with mine, and I cannot help but lean down to kiss her softly, knowing she’s been picturing a future with me, too.
“As it is your intention to enter into Holy Matrimony, it is time to declare your consent and commitment before God and His Church. Due to the—er—circumstances, I will ask Vincenza to recite them first, so you have the opportunity to hear them, Sylvester.”
“Grazie, Monsignor.”
Vinnie beams at me, her gaze never straying from mine. “I, Vincenza Mae Paladino, take you, Sylvester Lucchetti, to be my lawful husband. I promise to have and to hold you from this day forward, for better and worse, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you through all the days of my life until death do us part.”
“Amen,” the monsignor says curtly. “Sylvester, recite your commitment.”
My heart gallops with excitement. I am about to make Vinnie mywifeand show the world how much I love and adore this woman.
“I, Sylvester Lucchetti, take you, Vincenza Mae Paladino, to be my lawful wife. I swear to have and to hold you from this day forward, for better and worse, in sickness and in health. I will love, cherish, and honor you through all the days of my life until death do us part, and every moment in the afterlife.”
“May the Lord, in all of his kindness, strengthen the consent you have declared before God and His church to bring fulfillment of his blessings to you.” The monsignor clears his throat again, a line of sweat accumulating at his hairline. “What God has joined together, no one may asunder. Let us bless the Lord.”
He raises his hands, signaling to the guests to repeat their part. Some do as a quiet ripple of “Thanks be to God,” sounds throughout, but the voices are nowhere near strong or boisterous.
