His grip tightens on my hands, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize that there was a whole lot of to love and to cherish and in sickness and in health left out of those vows, but what else should I have expected? Giovanni has literally just vowed to hold me as his wife, in any uncertain capacity, until I die, and that knowledge has dread sinking into my stomach.
He releases one of my hands and digs into the pocket of his tux before withdrawing it again. A thin gold band rests in the palm of his hand, and he quickly jams it onto my finger before gripping my hand once again.
The priest turns to me with arched brows, silently inviting me to declare my vows, but I bite down on my tongue. It’s not like I’m going to stand by what I’m forced to say today, but I also thought that the first time I recited these words would be when I was standing in front of the love of my life—perhaps I would have ended up marrying one of the boys, assuming they would be able to decide between them which one got to do the honor. But this … I never wanted any part of this.
Giovanni’s hands tighten around mine and a pained squeal escapes my lips. “Do I need to remind you of what is at stake if you were to fail here today?” he says, my mind immediately going to the three loves of my life down in the castle cells. “Get on with it.”
I swallow hard and a single tear falls down the side of my face as I glance out at the hundreds of DeAngelis family members gathered in the church, not one of them with the balls to do anything about this. Turning back to Giovanni, I give him exactly what he wants. “I Shayne Alexandra Mariano—”
“Moretti,” Giovanni snaps, his eyes blazing with fire. “Shayne Alexandra Moretti. That is what’s on your birth certificate, and that is the name in which you will make your vows. Start over.”
Murmured laughter fills the big church, and the sound echoes up into the high ceilings as humiliation washes over me. I’ve never seen a copy of my birth certificate, so really, how the fuck am I supposed to know what’s written on it? Taking a slow, deep breath, I start over, my tone filled with a thick, lethal venom. “I, Shayne Alexandra Moretti,” I spit through a clenched jaw, “take thee Giovanni Roman DeAngelis to be my wedded husband.”
Another tear streaks down my face and my gaze falls away, feeling absolutely dead inside. A moment passes before Giovanni squeezes my hand again, sending searing hot pain shooting right up through my arm. “Get on with it.”
I can’t fucking do this.
Anger pours through me, and I yank my hand out of his hold, tearing the ring off my finger and throwing it down to the ground, letting it roll far beneath the pews to never be found. “Fuck you.”
Murmurs rumble through the church and I expect a hand to slap across my face or a gun to be lodged into the side of my head, but Giovanni just smiles with a twisted enjoyment. He indicates to a man sitting in the front row, holding out his hand.
The guy smirks and stands before passing him a phone and retreating back to his seat, straightening his suit jacket in the process. Giovanni doesn’t speak a fucking word as he silently turns the phone around to show me the screen, laughter brimming in his dark eyes.
My world falls as I take in the phone, looking at the live stream from down in the playground. I shake my head, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “No,” I cry, yanking the phone right out of his hand as I find Marcus beaten and bloodied, slumped in the corner of his cell with a man standing over him, gun aimed right between his eyes.
Failure tears through me, and as I look back up at Giovanni, I know that he wouldn’t hesitate to take the final shot to end Marcus. He’s always been the one to challenge Giovanni, always the one to call him out on his bullshit in the most infuriating ways. Levi has learned to keep his mouth shut while Roman would just do whatever his father requests of him in order to keep the bullshit from falling on his brothers’ shoulders. But not Marcus. He’s brave … or maybe just really fucking stupid, and I know that deep down, maybe letting the man shoot him and put him out of his misery would be a blessing for Marcus at this point, but I can’t bear the thought of losing him. Marcus is strong, he can pull through this. He just needs someone to save him, someone to give a shit. He needs a fucking guardian angel, and that’s exactly what I plan to be.
My mind swirls with grief as I stare down at Marcus, broken and bleeding, and I barely even notice Giovanni’s hand snapping out toward the phone before it’s already gone. “Shall we?” he demands, knowing damn well that he’s backed me into a corner, forcing my hand, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Tears fog my vision, and I blink them back as a lump forms in my throat, making it nearly impossible to speak. Giovanni slips the phone into his suit pocket and takes my hands once again, squeezing them tight. But this time, I don’t feel the pain. I am completely numb.
Trying to remember where I was in my vows and what comes next, I glance at the priest who looks as white as a ghost, clearly having seen the screen of the phone and realizing just how deep this shit goes. “I … I can’t remember the words.”
The priest nods and glances toward Giovanni, his jaw clenches before looking back at me. “Repeat after me,” he says, before starting the vows over. “I, Shayne Alexandra Moretti, take thee, Giovanni Roman DeAngelis, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”
Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I speak the words that will crush everything that I am. “I, Shayne Alexandra Moretti, take thee, Giovanni Roman DeAngelis, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”
“To have and to hold from this day on,” the priest continues.
“To have and to hold from this day on.”
Giovanni’s grin widens and I listen to the next part of the vows. “For better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.”
My stomach churns at the thought of having to say this, but thinking of Marcus down in that cell, I force the words through my teeth. “For better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.”
The priest looks grim, but reluctantly continues. “To love and to cherish until death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance, I pledge myself to you.”
Closing my eyes, I let the words consume me, break down every little piece of myself that I have left and allow them to turn everything to dust, leaving me as nothing more than a hollow shell. These words are binding, and while I have no intention to stand by them, they make me feel as though a leash has been tightened around my throat. But the boys …
I say the fucking words. “To love and to cherish until death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance, I pledge myself to you.”
Giovanni grins, his eyes glistening with untold secrets and plans for what my future may hold, each one of them, I’m positive, is worse than the next. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it, wife?” Giovanni taunts. “It’s what comes next that’s really going to make you squirm. Only from what I hear, you like being held down and fucked, don’t you? You’re a whore, but from this day on, you’re mine to do with as I please.”
Darkness swirls through me, and I choke back the tears, knowing there’s no way in hell that I’ll be able to escape this unharmed, untouched. No matter how quickly I can find my freedom, Giovanni won’t wait to dirty me, won’t wait to hammer that final nail into his sons’ coffins. It’ll be his sick game and it will destroy me.
The priest glances at Giovanni. “You may kiss your bride,” he says flatly, disgusted with the events that just took place, though something tells me that there’s absolutely nothing he could have done about it. I don’t doubt he’s got skin in the game too, a precious life being threatened to ensure his cooperation.
Giovanni wastes no time, stepping into me. He twists my hand around my back, bending my broken finger in the process, forcing a cry out of my mouth, and just as my lips part, he presses his mouth to mine, sinking his tongue into my mouth as tears of pain and disgust stream down my face.