Page 34 of Brutal Devil

Luna Revello is a beautiful bride.

She’s also a pissed bride, but she’s putting on a pretty damn good show as we walk through the line of wedding guests inside the packed church where we’ve just promised to love and honor each other till death do us part.

There’s makeup covering the little knot on her forehead, the lingering proof of the damage she did to Saint’s nose, and the bruise on her cheek is also hidden. Her dark, wavy hair is down. Her ass in that gold sparkling gown is a spankable dream. Sadly, I wasn’t able to enjoy it earlier. I was too fucking furious with her for running and putting everything I’ve worked so hard to make happen today in jeopardy.

Especially with a slippery bastard like Amedeo Revello waiting in the wings.

And the slit in the skirt that goes up to her right thigh? Pure torture. I want to tear off her dress and devour her. I want to fuck her, to sink my dick inside her, fill her up with me. I want the whole world to know she’s mine.

I didn’t expect to feel like this, not for her, not so quickly. But it’s like a switch has been flipped in my mind. It doesn’t helpthat she’s hot, brainy, and defiant, a combination I can’t resist. There’s something about knowing she’s mine that makes my dick harder than granite.

We head out of the church into crisp fall air, hand in hand. My grip is tight. She’s not escaping this time. She’s holding her bouquet of red roses like it’s a weapon she’s planning to use to bludgeon me with later.

We reach Amedeo and his wife.

Her hair is teased, she’s dripping in gold and diamonds, and her tits are popping out of her dress. “Giulia,” I greet with a nod, then turn to her snake of a husband. “Revello. Thank you for coming to our wedding.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Amedeo tells me, grinning.

I can’t help but wonder which one of our men is on this prick’s payroll. When I find out, I’m going to tear the bastard in two.

“Cousin Luna,” he adds, directing his hard onyx stare to the woman at my side. “Looking like a vision. Last I heard, you were in some school in the Midwest.”

I give her fingers a subtle warning squeeze.

She smiles politely, giving away nothing. “Things change.”

Good girl.

Thank fuck.

We’re about to move on when she says something else.

“Cherry cordials.”

I slant a narrow-eyed look at her. Is this some sort of fucking code between them, a message she’s trying to send?

Amedeo cocks his head, his brows slamming together in confusion. “Pardon?”

“Cherry cordials,” she repeats. “I was just thinking about how you gave them to Leo and me at the big Revello Christmas gathering every year.”

He runs a hand down his chest like he’s brushing off a speck of lint. “You remember that?”

“Of course. I remember a lot of things.” She turns to me, flashing another smile I know she doesn’t mean any more than she did the first. “Shall we, darling?”

I suspect the term of endearment is intended to rankle me, but it does the opposite. I kind of like it. More importantly, she’s not wrong.

I’m itching to get out of here. I don’t like our position, out in the open. I don’t like being this close to Amedeo without my gun, which I’ve had to leave behind, thanks to the public nature of our wedding and the DAs facing public pressure to take a bigger stance on crime.

I nod. “Let’s go, my love.” Bringing our linked hands to my lips, I kiss her knuckles, and even here, she’s smooth and soft and tempting.

Fuck. When have a woman’s knuckles turned me on this much?

Luna Revello is dangerous.

We start moving past Amedeo and his wife. Past a line of a few more fawning Revellos and Andrianis. Her father is next, standing with Squeaky. He looks like shit, and the urge to knock him flat on his ass is strong. I don’t, though.

He’s Luna’s father. This is her wedding day. Even a shitty father should have a moment with his daughter. I hang back, letting her go to him.