Chapter Twenty-Seven

Santino stayed in the car in front of the store when I went to my first appointment in the bridal store with Mom, Sofia, and Luisa. Only Sofia’s bodyguard joined us inside because Danilo was always particularly vigilant.

“I thought you’d design your own dress,” Sofia said when I browsed through the dresses on display.

I’d always thought so too, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t feel inspired in the slightest.

Mom joined me and motioned at a beautiful classic dress with lace. “I think you’d look beautiful in this.”

It was actually one of my favorites from the dresses I’d seen so far.

“I’ll try it on.”

Thirty minutes later we emerged from the bridal store, and I’d chosen the dress Mom had suggested. It was beautiful, elegant, and made me feel beautiful.

The vendor had asked me “If I felt the dress.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. It was pretty and would make people admire me. But was I overwhelmed by feelings when I put it on?

No. Not that I’d expected it. This wedding wasn’t about emotions, and I’d long given up hope that it could be.

Santino and I never talked about the wedding gown or the wedding. Since our last argument, we’d ignored the matter altogether, but even our sexual encounters had become few and far between. This felt like a drawn-out break-up that was hurting us both.

I went to my last appointment in the store alone. This was my second to last fitting, and I just didn’t feel like sharing it with Mom or anyone else. I hated when everyone looked at my face and expected to see something that wouldn’t be there.

Santino waited in the front of the store. The fitting took place in a separate changing room in the back.

When the vendor had helped me put the dress on, I asked her to leave me for a bit. I couldn’t stand her constant chattering. I knew she meant well, and would probably be just what an excited, happy bride needed but I wanted quiet.

I stared at myself in the mirror in the changing room. The seamstress had done a marvelous job. The dress fit me perfectly. I smoothed my fingers over the corset part. I tried to imagine myself going down the aisle toward Clifford that day, but my mind always changed the man waiting at the front to Santino. I hated my brain for playing with me like that.

I could hear heavy steps.

The door swung open and Santino stepped into the changing room. He and I both froze. His eyes took me in from head to toe.

“You’re not supposed to see me,” I snapped as he closed the door behind his back, closing us in.

He raised one sardonic eyebrow. “I’m not the bridegroom.”

“Right.” I shrugged. My throat became tight. A feeling I wanted to get rid as soon as possible. “Still. I want this to be a surprise for everyone on my wedding day.”

His eyes consumed me in a way that made me feel impossibly hot. “You look beautiful but you should have designed your dress. You’re far too talented to wear someone else’s design.”

Surprise washed over me. This was the nicest thing Santino had said to me in weeks and it hit me right in the feels. I was still self-conscious about my fashion designs, especially something as important as a wedding dress.

“It would have taken too much time. And I don’t think Clifford would have noticed the difference.”

He leaned against the door and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I would. Your designs always have a special touch. Sophisticated sexiness.”

I let out a laugh. “Sophisticated sexiness? I never thought the day would come that my brooding, sarcastic bodyguard talks like that.”

“I never thought the day would come that you’d pick out the dress for your wedding to Cliffy.”

Silence spread between us like a suffocating layer of ash after a volcano eruption. “Why not?” My voice was strangely tight.

His gaze seemed to undress me. My own eyes traveled over his muscled chest. My body erupted with goose bumps and a familiar heat gathered between my legs. I focused on my body’s reaction to him, desperately trying to ignore my heart. I desired Santino. Desire was easy to handle. Easy to satisfy. So much easier than a heart’s longing.

I didn’t want to want Santino. He’d been meant as a way to have fun before marriage. An uncomplicated and safe way to enjoy myself.

And damn had I enjoyed myself.

Santino gave me a slow, confident smile that suggested he knew exactly what I was thinking. It was the smile that always made me weak in the knees and annoyed me endlessly at the same time. Only Santino could do that.

“Do you want a few last orgasms before you’ll have to experience mediocre coitus with Cliffy?”

His words stung, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing it. Maybe he was pissed that I was marrying Clifford. But I’d never lied to him. He’d known the rules of our bond from the start. Or maybe it was his way of coping with this impossible situation that was taking a toll on both of us.

“You would really fuck another man’s bride in her wedding dress?”

Santino pushed away from the door and stalked toward me. My insides tightened with desire at the fire in his eyes. “I’ve done far worse, Cheri.”

Santino’s French was still horrid and I knew he kept it that way to annoy me. “I don’t doubt it.”

He stopped right in front of me and stared down at me. He reached beneath my short dress hem until he found my panties. I’d asked the seamstress to shorten the dress in the front a bit to make it a bit more individual, now it gave Santino better access.

I clamped up. “Santino, I need to wear these panties on my wedding day.”

His smile became sinfully challenging. “And you don’t want poor Cliffy to pull down panties that your lust for me has tainted before? Give them a good wash. He won’t know.”

I glared.

“You’re right. We shouldn’t insult Cliffy like that.”

“If it were up to you, you’d put a bullet in his head.”

“If it were up to me,” he murmured as he got down on one knee. He grabbed my panties and slowly pulled them down, his eyes daring me to say stop.

Instead, I helped him by lifting my feet. He neatly folded the flimsy piece of clothing and put it down on the ground beside him. Then he reached under my dress again, gripping my ass and his head dove under the skirt. His tongue dove between my folds.

I sank my teeth into my lower lip, my hands coming to rest on his head through the layers of my skirt. The vendor wouldn’t come back unless I asked her but this was still risky, pure madness, and felt wrong on a level I couldn’t put into words.

I watched myself in the mirror, the hazy lust in my eyes, my heaving chest and rosy cheeks. Then my gaze dropped to Santino’s half-hidden form—hidden beneath my wedding dress. A bitter smile twisted my mouth. Many years ago, I’d condemned Santino and the cheating wives for what they did, and today I let Santino eat me out in my wedding dress, only one month before my wedding. Was I really that different?

Maybe he hadn’t cared if I had other men before our wedding but I doubted he’d be happy to find out I’d fucked another man in the panties and dress I’d chosen for our wedding. I shoved the thought aside. I didn’t want to think about it now.

Santino graced my clit with his teeth, making me gasp. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about Cliffy while I lick your pussy.”

Not in the way he suggested. I’d probably imagine Santino for the rest of my life when Clifford and I were intimate.

“Don’t stop,” I said softly, almost pleadingly.

Santino breathed out before he slipped his tongue along my slit once more. We didn’t talk anymore and Santino’s mouth and tongue were almost careful and reverent in their exploration. This felt like a goodbye. Would every sex feel like goodbye now? Every touch soaked in wistfulness?

Santino’s finger brushed my lower lips apart while his lips cupped my clit gently. Only the tip of his finger teased my opening, slowly circling it. I clung to his head desperately, but never took my eyes off my reflection.

“Santino,” I whispered. He answered my breathy plea with a deep thrust of his finger and soon established a slow, steady rhythm that matched his lips around my clit.

“Please,” I whispered. I’d never begged for an orgasm, and this felt like I was asking for much more.

Santino slipped a second finger into me at the same time as he sucked my clit hard.

I came with a small shudder, my hips rocking slightly.

“This wasn’t the firework I’d planned,” Santino said as he pulled out from under my dress. His hair was disheveled, his lips shiny and face red from lack of oxygen.

Santino stood then leaned down to press a kiss to my lips, allowing me to taste myself. I began to sink down to give back but Santino’s hands on my arms stopped me.

My brows pulled together.

“I’ll make a mess of your dress, and I think we should stop now. Fuck, you’re almost married and in this dress, you might as well already be.”

“I’m not married yet, Santino. Clifford and I always had an agreement that everything that happened before we married wasn’t cheating. He had plenty of girls, so he definitely can’t be angry at me for being with you.”

Santino shook his head, his dark eyes fixing me. “I could never share you if you’d been promised to me. I’d burn up with jealousy. I’d have to kill every man who touched you.”

“But in four weeks, you’ll share me with Clifford.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. I’d never meant to become a cheater, and I didn’t think I had it in me. Maybe if Clifford agreed on an open relationship where we both had other partners, but cheating?

Santino shook his head again. “No, I won’t.”

“No?”

“This will stop once you’re married, Anna. Maybe even before then if I can stop wanting you more than air. I can’t fucking do this anymore. You want Clifford. That’s fine. You try to do what’s best for your family, and I’ll do what’s best for me. Clifford has his own bodyguards and your father agreed to pick someone else for your additional protection.”

“You won’t be my bodyguard anymore?” Cold settled in my bones and a panic I couldn’t explain. Somehow I’d hoped he’d keep guarding me because he’d given up his job as Enforcer for me. I’d been naive and maybe tried to protect my heart from the harsh reality of our future.

“No.”

The word echoed between us. Santino stared into my eyes, and I could feel his determination but also a deep ache I only knew too well.

I nodded and touched his shoulders. We looked at each other. “You’re right. Maybe we should stop now.”

“We should.” Santino took a step back and my chest constricted so tightly, I was worried I’d faint.

I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. “I need to get ready now.”

Santino nodded, his expression becoming the one I remembered from the past. A little condescending and hard. “Don’t forget to give your panties a good wash before the wedding.”

I reacted in turn. “I’m sure Clifford won’t mind if I don’t wear any underwear.”

Santino turned and left.

The door fell shut behind him. I grabbed the mirror frame, needing to steady myself. I felt like a hole had opened up in front of me and wanted to suck me in. I had half a mind to let it.

An invisible barrier had built between Santino and me since our conversation in the bridal store a week ago. We hadn’t slept together again. We’d kept the distance we’d agreed on but so far I didn’t long any less for him. A week was too little time to forget what we’d had. I focused on my annoyance toward him.

Santino walked a couple of steps behind me. I couldn’t even look at him. I felt guilty because he had to accompany me to a lunch with Clifford, but at the same time angry because he wanted me to feel guilty. He blamed me for something that he’d known from the very start. I’d never lied to him. We both knew our relationship had an expiration date. Three weeks. Or maybe it had already expired. It definitely felt that way.

I stepped into the restaurant. Clifford and two bodyguards were already there.

“Of course, Cliffy needs two guards to protect his pampered ass,” Santino muttered under his breath.

His words put fuel to the fire of my anger at him, at myself, at the situation, even at Clifford. I turned to him, hissing, “Stop insulting Clifford. Grow up and get over your hurt pride. I’m going to marry him, accept it and move on.”

Santino’s expression became stone, but his eyes sent another stab of guilt through me before they too became hard and cold.

He nodded once. “I’ll be over in the corner doing my job.”

With a stiff smile, I walked over to Clifford and greeted him with a quick peck on the cheek before he could kiss me on the lips, then sat down across from him.

His blue eyes flitted between me and Santino. “Everything all right?”

“Of course. My bodyguard is only counting the days until he’ll be freed of me. He hates the job.”

Clifford narrowed his eyes in thought. “You’re a very good liar, but he carries his emotions on the sleeve. Will he cause problems?”

My smile became thinner. “You can stop asking me that. I told you he won’t. Let’s talk about the reason for this meeting.”

“There have arisen some safety concerns regarding the wedding, so we might have to switch the location to prevent an incident.”

My mouth fell open. “You want to switch locations three weeks before our wedding?”

“It’s necessary. My father is very concerned for his, and possibly my safety.”

“Is that the reason for the two guards?”

He nodded.

I leaned forward. “Is this because of your father’s pro-choice stance?”

“It is. He got several threats on his life since then and because I stand by him on this, I got them too.”

“You’re marrying into the mob. This wedding will be safe, don’t worry. My father has arranged the highest security measures possible.”

“Still, the location has been public knowledge for a long time. A last-minute change will make possible attack plans even more difficult.”

“If someone wants to kill your father and you, they won’t pick a mob wedding for that. Even a fanatic will pick a more successful option.”

“It would be a very public statement.”

“Any time someone attacks you or him will be a public statement.”

I caught Santino moving across the room. He was running like a madman, his gun drawn.

Our eyes met and in his, I caught pure determination but also blank fear. A shot tore through the room, and blood splattered my face. Santino collided with me, tearing me to the ground, toppling over my chair. I landed on the floor, my ears and head ringing from the impact. Santino shielded me with his body, completely covering me and trying to drag me away.

More shots rang out. Santino hissed.

I was disoriented, confused. Warmth spread on my stomach and thigh. For a second I wondered if I’d peed my pants from fear, but I wasn’t that scared. I was… I didn’t even know.

Santino kept dragging me away and firing. My ears rang painfully. I glanced down and saw my white blouse completely red.

Had I been shot? Then I saw Santino’s shirt, which was soaked with blood.

Another shot rang out and he jerked again and groaned. Blood now dripped from a shot in his shoulder as well. With a grunt, he shoved up and aimed at something.

A man with several shot wounds hiding behind the bar. He fired and the man’s head jerked back before he fell to the floor dead.

Santino breathed heavily. Slowly he turned to me, his face ashen and eyes slightly unfocused. “Are you hurt?” he rasped.

I shook my head, trying to sit up but Santino shoved me back down. Then had to support his weight on one arm, obviously too weak to straighten. “Stay down in case there are more.”

“You need an ambulance! You’re shot!”

He smiled wryly. “I told you I’d die protecting you.”

“Don’t say that!” I whispered harshly. More blood was dripping down on me. He didn’t look good.

“Give a dying man a last kiss so I can pretend you are mine?”

“Santino,” I croaked, but he silenced me with his lips on mine. I cupped his cheeks, kissing him back but then he slowly slipped from my grip and fell to his side.

“Santino?” I shouted, kneeling beside him. I shook him but he didn’t move.

“We called an ambulance,” one of the guards said. The other was still shielding Clifford and pressing down on a wound in his shoulder.

I only half-listened. I picked up my phone and dialed Dad’s mobile, my fingers leaving bloody marks on my screen.

The second Dad picked up, I began talking, “Dad, Santino was shot. Several times. It doesn’t look good.”

“Where are you? Are you safe?” Dad asked. In the background, I could hear him move. “Valentina, alert every guard!”

“Santino was shot, Dad.”

“Calm down, Anna. Are you safe?” Mom talked in the background, and an engine sounded.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m at the Lincoln Café.”

“Stay put, I’ll send the men closest to you over.”

“Dad, I think Santino is dying,” I whispered softly as I stroked Santino’s unruly dark hair. His face was so very still, no anger, no frustration, no joy or love.

“We’ll be there soon. Stay on the phone with me, all right?”

Dad’s voice was calm and controlled.

“Okay,” I said quietly, clutching the phone harder to my ear.

“Help him, he looks worse than I do,” Clifford muttered.

One of his bodyguards kneeled beside Santino and felt for his pulse, then bunched up a cloth napkin and pressed it down on a wound in Santino’s back.

I just sat there and stroked Santino’s face as he lay on his side almost peacefully.

Time seemed to still. Sirens disrupted the quiet. And then strong hands gripped me. It was one of our men who tried to pull me up. “I’m staying!” I growled like a feral cat.

He nodded and positioned himself next to me. Paramedics fell to their knees beside Santino, shoving me aside. I crawled back a bit but didn’t leave as if my presence could hold him here.

“Anna,” Dad said. I looked up as he bent over me, grabbing my arms and pulling me up. He scanned me and kissed my cheek. Then Mom took me in her arms. “Let’s get you home.”

“No. I need to stay with him.”

Dad moved to Santino and that’s when I saw Enzo kneeling beside Santino’s head as the paramedics tried to resuscitate him. Mom’s arms around me tightened. Enzo stroked Santino’s hair like I had done. My heart broke. The paramedics put Santino on a stretcher and Enzo didn’t leave his side as they carried him out.

I followed at a slower pace, Mom’s arm still around me. Several Outfit soldiers were swarming the area by now. Dad was talking to Clifford and his bodyguards while two other paramedics took care of Clifford’s shoulder.

“Can we follow them to the hospital?” I asked Mom as the ambulance raced away.

Mom’s expression was kind. “Sweetheart, we should get you home first and make sure you’re all right. After you’ve cleaned up, we’ll visit Santino, okay?”

Dad appeared at our side. He waved a black limousine forward and it drove toward us. “Drive home. No stops. Straight home. I’ll be home as soon as I’ve talked to everyone involved.”

“If you visit Santino, I want to come with you, please.”

Dad nodded and kissed my cheek before he ushered Mom and me into the limousine.

The drive passed in a blur and when we stepped into our mansion, Leonas immediately headed our way. He had two guns in his holster. “Bea’s in the library with Riccardo and Rocco. The area was quiet.”

Leonas pulled me into a hug and scanned me from head to toe. “I wanted to come too but Dad wanted me to guard Bea with RJ and Riccardo.” I nodded, sinking into him. “What about Santino?”

His eyes burned into mine. My throat clogged up. What I wanted to say couldn’t be said in front of Mom.

Leonas wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll take her to her room, Mom. Can you check on Bea, she’s freaking out.”

Mom hesitated but I leaned into Leonas, taking the choice from her. He half dragged me upstairs because my legs felt too heavy to lift. We stepped into my room and Leonas closed the door. I caught sight of myself in my vanity mirror. My face was covered with blood splatters. I wasn’t sure if they were Clifford’s from his shoulder wound or Santino’s. But the blood soaking my white blouse…that was all Santino’s.

“Toilet!” I croaked. Leonas dragged me into the bathroom and held my hair as I threw up into the toilet.

When I stopped retching, he flushed the toilet.

“That’s the first time I’m doing this for you. Usually it’s Rocco puking his guts out after too much alcohol and pot.”

I smiled weakly as I took the wet washcloth from him and washed my face. I didn’t bother getting up. Leonas sank down across from me with his back against the bathtub. “Anna, what happened?”

I told him, my voice breaking as I came to the part with Santino lying lifelessly on the gurney. Leonas reached for me and I pressed up to him, letting him hug me.

“He’s a strong and stubborn motherfucker. He won’t die.”

I shuddered. “He risked his life for me.”

“That’s his job, Anna. Don’t feel guilty. Not about that. Feel guilty about making the poor guy fall in love with you and marrying someone else.”

I glowered. “That’s a low blow.”

Leonas smirked. “I prefer you angry to crying, sis. Channel that anger.”

“You think I shouldn’t marry Clifford?”

“I think the Outfit shouldn’t get in bed with politics, and neither should you. But I know I’m the only one in this family who thinks like that. I won’t tell you what to do, but you should make up your mind before you see Santino the next time so he can move on. Don’t tag him along until the last day.”

I swallowed hard. I should have let go of Santino long before. I knew part of him had always hoped I’d choose him and maybe I’d played on that, but I simply had been too weak to be without him.

Leonas was right. I couldn’t keep doing this. Santino needed to live for himself. He couldn’t keep protecting me and waiting on me. He needed to find someone who deserved him more than I did. I’d been selfish for too long. If he survived, I’d finally give him free even if it crushed my heart.