A warning.
His whole body shakes as he stares at the knife.
“This is the only warning you get,” I say, raising my voice to address the entire room. “The only warning any of you get.” I sweep my gaze around the table, meeting each man’s eyes in turn. “Anyone else have something to say about my wife-to-be?”
A few of the dons clear their throats, shifting nervously in their chairs, but nobody dares speak.Good.Satisfied, I return to my seat, leaving the knife where it is as a reminder.
“I’m well aware of your grievances with the bureau—I share them. But Emilia Rossi will be my wife in three days. A Moretti, legally, in name and deed. And as such, she’s not only one of us—” My voice hardens to steel. “—she’s your Queen. So you’ll treat her with the same goddamn respect you accord to me.”
They remain silent, and I give them a couple of seconds to let it sink in before continuing. “I’m on top of our little FBI problem and will have it dealt with, swiftly and mercilessly. And that FBI ‘bitch’ is going to help me—help us—eliminate the threat permanently.”
34
EMILIA
The day of the wedding…
“I truly hope you know what you’re doing, Emily,” Katie murmurs as my hair stylist and makeup artists pack up their stuff.
I glance away from my reflection in the mirror to meet my best friend’s worried gaze, but I wait until it’s just us in the room before answering her. “I do.”
She’s on me in two steps, fingers wrapping around my wrist. “If you’re being blackmailed or threatened, you’ll tell me so I can help you, right? It’s not too late to put an end to this farce.”
I smile faintly. She’s been trying to talk me out of this since I went to check on her in the hospital earlier in the week, but my mind is made up now. Especially after I went to the bureau two days ago to hand in my resignation letter and badge.
A tense atmosphere hung in the air. The other agents were understandably wary around me, but I was able to get Matt to tell me what had happened. I was curious about what they’d been told, but I got other useful information instead.
Six of our agents on special missions in ‘Mexico’ had just been brutally killed by the gangsters they were trying to bring down.Six maleagents. That’s the same number of men who attacked Katie and me. The same number of men that Rafael assured me suffered before taking their last breaths.
Coincidence?My ass.
I tried not to read into it, but it was impossible not to.
The news buried the last of my doubts, and my chin was held high as I dropped my letter and badge on Greg’s desk. I have no concrete proof, but I know the dead agents were the same people who hurt me.
And Stacey… God, Stacey’s been trying to reach out to me, but I’ve been avoiding her calls, because what the hell am I supposed to say?Sorry I found out you’ve been lying to me my entire career? Sorry I’m marrying the enemy? Sorry I chose him over you?
The lies—both spoken and unspoken—are piled up against her, and I’m angry,so angryat her. But underneath it sits this heavy, sick feeling. Like no matter how justified my anger is, part of me still hates the idea that I might be disappointing her.
But I can’t let that stop me. I have to protect myself. Rafael and I—we’re the only ones who can do that.
“I promise I’m not being coerced to do this. In fact, I–”
Three rapid knocks cut me off, and before I can even ask who it is, the door swings open and Elira, Gianna, and two older women carrying baby carriers flood into the bridal room, making the big hotel suite seem smaller.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My entire body goes rigid as my gaze meets Elira’s. I knew this moment would come eventually, but I figured it would be in the safety of the wedding hall, surrounded by other people. Not here. Not like this.
What do I say? How do I even begin to?—
“Hey, it’s the woman who was going to ship me to Budapestlast year.” Her lighthearted joke, followed by a chuckle, is the last thing I expect from her.
I blink, completely thrown off balance. The silence stretches until it becomes awkward, so I do what any decent human being would do and grovel. “I should never have involved you in my issues with the guys. I’m so sorry.”
I don’t bother trying to explain it was my misguided attempt to rescue her from a life of crime. What would be the point when I’m entering that same life through marriage today? A life she’s been in her whole life—and if I’m being honest, so have I.
Her smile is kind, warm in a way that makes my chest tight. “I appreciate your apology, Emilia. I was furious when it happened—I won’t lie about that. But I’ve had a whole year to think about it, and I realized your heart was in the right place, even if your methods were…” She pauses, searching for the right word. “Spectacularly misguided.”
