Sergio’s composure slipped, just barely, as the priest walked away and someone else replaced him.
A tall, dark, and extremely good-looking man with tattoos on his knuckles, and a very familiar face stood before us.
He cleared his throat. “May this new union provide the two of you with the love and laughter you both deserve, may God keep you safe, may God unite our families for as long as He will allow it. May you honor each other, respect one another, die for one another, live for one another. This is the wish of my family, my friends.” His hands shook, just once, then he cleared his throat and continued. “This is the final wish and will from Andi Abandonato as read by Nikolai Blazik.”
Sergio’s eyes filled with tears.
I wasn’t worthy.
I would never be worthy of a man who was loved that much.
But suddenly, I was okay with it, because her love and devotion for him after only a few months showed me he was worthy.
Sergio was worthy.
And so deserving.
Of everything I had to offer him.
And I’d give all.
Because she had died wishing she could.
And it was my privilege to be able to pick up where she left off.
Nikolai nodded at both of us and joined Nixon’s right side. The men shook hands as the priest held his arms above our head and continued the ceremony in Italian.
We exchanged rings — rings I’d never seen before. On repeating the words, they took new meaning for me; my life had a new meaning.
“Friends, let us bless the unity of these families, may they strengthen and protect us, forever.” The priest spoke in Italian again.
“Amen,” rumbled the collective murmur through the sanctuary.
“I now I present, Mr. Sergio and Mrs. Valentina Abandonato, may our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ bless and keep you, forever and ever. Amen.”
“Amen.” Everyone made a quick sign of the cross then stood and kissed their right hands and placed it on their heart.
I didn’t know what I felt as people started clapping.
Sergio gripped my hand in his then turned me to face him, his lips met mine in a brief kiss before he led me down the aisle.
I was married.
Married.
At nineteen.
To a killer with gorgeous eyes and a burdened heart.
Not necessarily how I had envisioned my story going.
“Be well!” Gio met us in the back of the church with tears in his eyes. “I will miss you.”
“Miss me?” I repeated. “I don’t—”
“Have fun!” Frank winked.
“Fun?”
Dante elbowed me then tossed rice into the air, a handful of it landed in my hair. “For the record, she’s still my sister.” I think that was directed at Sergio.
“Adios!” Tex winked. “Make sure to relax, Serg.”
Sergio said nothing.
We were rushed toward a waiting limo, and nobody was talking, other than telling me to have fun. Were they talking about tonight?
Heat rushed into my face until I felt like I was on fire.
My embarrassment must have been noticeable because under his breath Sergio whispered, “Don’t worry.”
My view of the limo was suddenly blocked as a man stepped in front of us. The same one who had read the letter from Andi. He was the type of guy who oozed power and sexuality, but in a totally obvious and over-the-top way. I felt like if I looked at him directly in the eyes I’d lose my soul or something, like he’d see too much, see my insecurities, and tell everyone within hearing distance.
Finally, not wanting to be rude, I stole a glance at him, a real long glance.
He looked vaguely familiar.
But I couldn’t place him.
Frowning, I stared harder.
Nikolai’s eyes met mine, and then he quickly averted them and held out his hand to Sergio. “She would have been happy.”
“I know,” Sergio said in a low voice.
“My offer still stands.” He gave me a pitiful stare before looking back at Sergio. “It will always stand.”
“And I’ll always say no.” Sergio slapped him on the back then pulled him in for a hug. “Go back to the wife.”
“The wife.” Nikolai chuckled loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“And we did?” Sergio countered. “By the way, Xavier’s been giving us a bit of trouble.”
“Shall I hurt him for you?” Nikolai asked.
Sergio paused, his hand gripped mine hard. “He’s fine. For now. Perhaps later we’ll have dinner.”
“You know where to find me.” Nikolai shook his hand one last time then walked off.
I frowned after him.
“Sorry,” Sergio apologized. “He has no bedside manner.”
“No… that’s not it.” I swallowed, my gaze still stuck on his disappearing form. “He looks familiar.”
“Well he won the Pulitzer as a teenager, that could be it. Was on the cover of Time.”
“No, not that kind of familiar, but—” I shook my head, “—never mind. So, why do people keep telling me to have fun?”
Sergio opened the limo door and pointed inside. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s kind of funny.” His smile was small. “Did you say your goodbyes?”