"Yet when it comes to Axel, you are letting your emotions get the better of you? You're going by what you think Xander would have wanted, instead of what makes sense."
"And you are letting your ego get in the way of giving up short-term gain for long-term success."
The two glare at each other, then Michael draws in a breath. "You are simply going to have to trust me in this situation," he says in a hard voice.
"And you are going to regret trusting him," Luca flexes his shoulders, and this time, Massimo releases him. Luca glares at me one more time, then turns on his heels and stalks out the door.
Silence descends on the gathering. Michael rolls his shoulders. "You’d better be who you say you are." he turns on me. "If it turns out that you are lying to me—"
"I am not," I straighten my lapels. "Besides, now that I am marrying Theresa," I allow my lips to twist, "I am marrying into the family. Surely, that’s enough proof that I intend to stay and see things through?"
Michael’s gaze intensifies. His forehead furrows.
"You don’t seem convinced, brother," I drawl. "Having second thoughts?"
"I never have second thoughts," Michael jerks his chin, "No doubt, you are keen to exercise your authority as part of the Cosa Nostra."
"Indeed," I draw myself up to my full height. A headache begins to thrum at my temple, but I ignore it.
"And I am sure you’ll want to marry Theresa at the earliest opportunity."
"Y-e-s," I say slowly. What the hell is Michael up to now?
"And what about you Theresa?" He turns to her, "I assume you don’t want to wait too long to be married to him, either?"
Theresa glances between us, then nods.
"It’s settled then." Michael’s eyes gleam. "Theresa and Axel will be married in a month’s time."
"A month?" I burst out. "Isn’t that a bit soon?"
"Why wait, when both the bride and bridegroom are willing?" Michael smirks.
"Now, hold on." I rub at my temple, "Aren’t there preparations to be made for the wedding and such?"
"Oh, after two speed weddings in the family, trust me, we have the drill down to a science," Massimo murmurs.
My knees seem to buckle from under me, and I am not sure if it’s because I’ve pushed my body to its limit, or because the thought of being tied down to one woman, albeit in a wedding that I don’t consider to be real, is catching up with me. I move back, until my back hits the wall.
"Let’s not be hasty now." I hold up my hands. "Let’s think this through, shall we?"
Theresa turns on me, "Apparently, it takes the thought of getting married for you to lose your confidence?"
"Lose my confidence?" I scowl down at her, "What gives you that idea?"
"Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because your face is pale, and there is a sheen of sweat on your forehead."
I touch my forehead, and motherfucker, she’s right. I wipe off the moisture, then raise a shoulder, "I haven’t lost my confidence."
"Oh, good, so you’ll be fine if we get married in a week."
I stiffen, "I thought Michael said a month." I scowl in his direction, "Didn’t you say a month?"
"I said a month."
"And I say, we get married before you lose your nerve," she holds my gaze.
"Lose my nerve?" I glower at her, "I never lose my nerve."