Amelie grins from ear to ear. “Nah, just lucked out. We were running late, and I happened to hear you panicking as I walked up to the door. Epic timing, right?”
I double over in a fit of laughter that spreads to the others, except for the beauty team who look at us all like we might be slightly unhinged. I want to tell them how right they are, but I don’t want to scare them off. Ireallyneed my hair and makeup done. I may be marrying a mobster on short notice using falsified documents under threat of death from my criminal father, but I also have standards. I want to look unforgettable as I walk down that aisle and become Mrs. Danika Donati.
The dress is magnificent.White satin fabric hangs loosely over my body to accentuate my modest curves, including the draped cowl neckline held up with tiny spaghetti straps. It’s ethereal and feminine and elegant in its simplicity. I feel like a fairy queen.
And my hair.Oh my God. My hair.
It’s always been half wild—never quite sure if it wants to be wavy or curly or straight and is usually a touch of all three at any given time. But not today. Today, every strawberry strand has been expertly secured in an artful updo with just the right number of loose tendrils to be casually elegant. Add a light application of makeup to help my green eyes pop, and I’ve never felt more beautiful in my entire life. Or more nauseous.
I stand only a few feet from the entrance of the main sanctuary, hands clutching my bouquet for dear life as I try to convince myself not to vomit all over my dream wedding dress.
Am I really going to do it? Am I really going to say I do?
Life is so unpredictable—that is the only true certainty. We can plan all we’d like, but sometimes fate takes the reins. I never could have imagined I’d be in this position two weeks ago. It’s been a roller coaster of events that has left me no choice but to hold on tight and rely on my gut to guide me. Right now, I’m holding these flowers so tightly, I’m practically strangling them, and my gut, despite its queasy revolt, insists that my future stands around this corner waiting for me at the church altar.
I inhale a slow, steadying breath, then take the first steps toward this new journey. My gaze is immediately drawn to Tommy standing opposite me at the end of the aisle. His possessive stare explores every inch of me with ravenous intensity as though he’s laying claim to the most precioustreasure on earth. His gaze makes me feel more adored than any limelight could ever achieve.
Yes, I’m doing the right thing.
One look from him, and I’m cloaked in a reassuring warmth. And with every step I take closer to Tommy, my fears grow a little more distant like roaches running from the light. That is instinct drowning out the insidious voice of doubt. Deep down, I know Tommy is meant for me.
The small church is empty save for the preacher and the six of us—Mom, Gran, me, Tommy, Sante, and Amelie. The beauty crew split as soon as they were done, and I’m not sure of the reasons, but Tommy’s family isn’t present, aside from Sante. It’s a tiny ceremony, but I don’t need it any larger. I always figured Sachi would be at my wedding when the time came, but I’m kind of glad she’s not here. Sorting through my feelings has been hard enough. Explaining everything to her would have been exponentially more difficult. I just hope she doesn’t disown me when I see her next and tell her all that’s happened.
The music playing softly over a speaker system quiets as I finally join my husband-to-be in front of the minister. Tommy takes my hands in his, flipping them over and reverently kissing the inside of each of my wrists.
“You are the most stunning woman to ever walk this earth.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as my cheeks flush with warmth. “You look incredibly handsome in this suit.” The black jacket and matching pants with a white shirt and no tie are simple yet classic and a perfect complement to my dress. I don’t know what it is about men in suits, but I could stare at him for days and never get bored.
The minister clears his throat, encouraging us to face him and proceed with the ceremony. “Welcome, everyone, on this very special day when we celebrate the joining of Tommaso Donati and Danika Dobrev in holy matrimony.”
“Don’t say another fucking word, Preacher.”
We all whip around to see two men holding guns at the entrance to the sanctuary where I’d been only moments before. I recognize one as the bald man guarding Biba’s office door. He’s traded in his stoic indifference for a face full of malicious rage. And his partner is no different. Both look like they’re ready to skin us alive.
“Danika, come here,” Biba’s guard orders.
Tommy eases himself in front of me. “She’s not going anywhere.” His voice is devoid of emotion—chilling in the same way an arctic breeze foretells of a coming storm.
“Biba wants his daughter back.” The man shrugs. “Bonus for me if I get to shoot you in the process.”
“You do that, and you better pray you kill me instantly, or I will make you live to regret it.” Tommy manages to paint a horrific picture of carnage using only the hollow tone of his voice. I should be horrified, but I find myself impressed. This isn’t Tommy. This is Tommaso, the Mafia assassin. This is why Tommy assured me I could trust him to handle Biba. He’s every bit the badass he claimed to be and then some.
The Russian roars, “Danika, get the fuck over here before I kill everyone in this room.”
My entire body recoils at the fury in his voice.
“Stay put,” Tommy clips back at me through gritted teeth. He means it. He’d rather take a bullet than risk me getting hurt or captured.
I’m humbled by his selflessness and shamed by my cowardice.
These men wouldn’t think twice about killing everyone in here. Am I willing to risk that so I can keep hiding in fear? No, there’s absolutely no way. I won’t let—
I don’t get any further when a gunshot explodes with two more following in rapid succession.
My body curves in on itself instinctively. I drop to my knees with my hands over my ears but the gunshot echoes in my brain. Images of blood splattering across greasy concrete flash through my mind as I desperately try to cast them away.
Fear rages like blood through my veins.
