Page 2 of Beneath Scarred Vows

I turn to him. "I'm not pretending. I just don't care."

His fingers tighten around mine as we walk. My knuckles press together, the pressure almost painful. I don't react. Instead, I lift my lips in something that passes for happiness, and he loosens his grip.

"You could make this easier on yourself," he says while still looking forward.

"Perhaps."

His fingers flex slightly against mine again.

I glance at him, tilting my head slightly. "What did you expect of me?"

"Emotion," he says as he adjusts his tie.

"You mean tears?" I ask. "Begging?"

He looks at me.

"Well, sorry to disappoint."

He slips his free hand into his pocket, like he's forcing himself to stay composed.

"Careful," he murmurs.

I raise an eyebrow. "Of what?"

His eyes turn dark, unreadable. "Of making it a habit of disappointing me."

I don't answer. I just offer a sarcastic grin, small and empty, because I know it'll unsettle him more than anything I could say.

The church doors open, spilling golden Greek sunlight onto the marble. The moment we step outside, cameras flash, and the crowd waiting on the steps cheers.

Ares lifts our joined hands for them to see, an act of dominance, not affection. The new Don and his bride.

I let him. It doesn't matter.

To them, we are a victory. A kingdom solidified.

To me, we are nothing.

He leans in like he's about to kiss my cheek, but his lips never touch me. Instead, his breath skims my jaw as he murmurs, "We're not finished yet."

A flicker of unease tightens my stomach. "Meaning?"

Ares smirks for the cameras. "A bride deserves a wedding gift. And I have something special for you."

I swallow down the instinct to ask another question. It wouldn't matter.

The crowd celebrates as Ares leads me down the steps, his grip steady, unrelenting.

A car waits at the bottom.

Not a limo.

Not a town car.

Something darker. Sleeker.

Something meant to take me away from here.