52. Tasha

52

That was the longest flight of my life. I was stuck with too much time to think clearly now that my life is no longer in danger.

And this has just been the shortest wedding ceremony I've ever attended. Impersonal, functional, and so far removed from my dream wedding that it was like taking a bathroom break. There was a yes in there somewhere, and a reassuring kiss from Matteo, but now that we're driving through the familiar streets of Boston, my stomach is in a knot.

Everything is hurried, surreal, and emotionally I'm just trying to stay on an even keel. Questions have been building in my head, each one of them a brick, pushing down on my heart. I'm weighed down with unanswered questions, and even though I know Matteo can answer them all, I don't want to hear the answers from him.

Dad. At some point, when this whole debacle started, it was clear that if either of us did something wrong, the other would die. Now, and maybe from the start, holding Dad at gunpoint was just a smoke screen. I need to see him, but I don't want to see him. I'll have no peace until I've had the truth from him, but after everything I've learned while being captive I don't know if I want to know the truth. It's going to change my life. It's one thing to grow up and know your place in the world, see your dad in society's hierarchy and understand where you fit in. It's another thing altogether to have that whole structure shattered, leaving you hanging with bated breath to see where the pieces will fall.

My life has changed so drastically I don't even recognize myself anymore, but not recognizing the place I left behind is going to be a mind-bender.

"Where's Burley going?" I ask. He's been with us all the way, but once we landed in Boston, another SUV picked him up.

"He's going for some x-rays to see if they can remove the bullet." Matteo squeezes my hand where he's holding it on his lap.

"Which hospital?"

His lips quirk. "It isn't an actual hospital. It's off grid."

Fantastic. Matteo's network spans wide and over many industries. He even has a medical team on his payroll that make bullets disappear without anybody ever knowing a trigger got pulled.

"When we get to your apartment?—"

"When we get home, kitten. It's home for now."

I draw in a shaky breath. "When we get home, can I have my phone back? I want to call my dad."

"Dominic has it. I'll get it from him in the morning."

It's late, and Matteo doesn't offer me his phone to call Dad either. We're quiet the rest of the drive to his apartment block, and even the elevator ride to the penthouse is quiet, what with the bodyguards that we have with us for now. As soon as we reach the foyer that leads to his front door, Matteo disarms the alarm, and the bodyguards bid us good night.

I'm not nervous but going back inside this apartment will flood me with memories I'd rather avoid. I don't think I'd be able to sleep here if Matteo weren't with me.

"Do you need anything?" he asks as we walk inside.

"No, I'm good." The flight was catered with delicious food, and I've wanted for nothing. "I'm just tired."

Matteo studies me in the soft light coming from the entry hall. "This isn't how you imagined your wedding would go, is it?"

"No." Why lie, it's not going to change anything.

He hasn't let go of my hand and squeezes it as he tugs me deeper into the apartment and the open plan area with the living room and execution square.

I burst out laughing when he switches the lights on and even Matteo chuckles. Giant helium balloons in white and gold are everywhere and floating gold letters that spell out Congratulations!! are tied down to the sofa. A bottle of champagne waits on the coffee table with two glasses and what looks like hundreds of red roses everywhere.

"Who did this?" I ask, somewhat stunned.

"Rosalia," he murmurs as he pulls me into his arms. As if on cue, music starts to play—Thinking Out Loud, the wedding song of all wedding songs. "She loves doing this type of thing."

Now I don't know if this was Matteo's idea or Rosalia's and I don't ask. Ignorance is bliss. All I know is there's been no mention of love. Even our vows at the city hall where a bleary-eyed clerk did the necessary only included an unconvincing to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health till death do us part. We somehow skipped the love and cherish part altogether. Stupid, insipid vows.

They're better than nothing. In his arms, I feel safe. I'll see less of Dad, but one thing is certain: Matteo won't kill his father-in-law. I bite back tears, refusing to be weak in this moment where I can hide against his chest.

"The wedding might have been a disappointment," he murmurs in my ear, sending a spark of desire down my spine, "but the wedding night won't be."

No, it won't. I smile and inhale deeply, taking in a calming breath of his scent I've come to love. If nothing else, we have off-the-charts chemistry. It's the perfect distraction and I can live off that alone.

For now.