Page 154 of Brutal Heir

To tell them we got married behind their backs over a month ago. It’s going to go over like a fucking lead balloon. I only hope the promise of a big post-wedding celebration will help soften the blow.

The bathroom door creaks open a few inches, and Rory leans in, her gaze sweeping over me with quiet intensity. Those brilliant emerald eyes trace every line and contour of my bare chest, lingering, unflinching, on the ravaged left side of my body. Months ago, that kind of scrutiny would’ve made me shrink, turn away, wrap myself in whatever armor I could find. But now? I let her look.

Because that map of scars brought her to me.

“Are you going to just stand there gawking at yourself all night or are you getting ready?” A hint of mischief brightens her eyes.

A smirk pulls at my lips as I tug her into the bathroom and press her flush against me. My cock immediately hardens at the familiar feel of her. “We should both be taking off our clothes, not putting more on.”

Her chin lifts, eyes meeting mine. “You know how important this night will be to your family. It’s been six weeks, what’s a couple more hours?”

I groan. “I can barely hold out for a few more seconds.” My hands run up and down her bare arms, gaze settling on the strapless ivy dress that brings out her eyes. If being gentle wasn’t an issue, I would have bent her over the sink and been balls deep inside her already.

Her hand comes between us, stroking my erection over my pants, and I suck in a breath. “Merda,” I hiss, “I can’t wait to be inside you again, Red.”

She lifts to her tiptoes and brushes her lips over mine, that hand still tantalizing, still teasing. “Same here,amore.” Then shereleases my dick, reaches around and slaps me on the ass. “Now get moving. Your parents are going to be here any minute now.”

With another frustrated groan, I reach for the crisp black shirt and slacks hanging on the towel rack. “Fine,” I grumble. “But if everyone’s not gone by nine, I’m kicking them all out.”

“Whatever you say, Ale.” With a chuckle, she saunters back into our bedroom, leaving me in the bathroom with an obnoxious hard on.

Funny… this is exactly how we started.

Rory’s sitting beside me on the couch after dinner, her fingers tucked discreetly into mine, her smile barely restrained. Isabella and Raf sit across from us, debating the merits of installing a new security system for their place. Uncle Luca and his wife, Stella are fully on board. Of course. Never enough security for their little princess. No wonder she ended up with her bodyguard.

Rory smiles and nods, engaging all the family while keeping her cool. She’s good at pretending she’s just along for the ride, but I can feel the thrum of nerves under her skin like a second heartbeat. She’s braver than any of them know.

And tonight, they’re going to know everything.

I clear my throat. Loud enough to cut through the noise. Heads turn.PapàandMa. Alessia and Matty. Conversations die. All eyes suddenly fall on us.

Which is saying something, considering Serena and Antonio are both glowing and going on and on about their upcoming wedding. The grand celebration uniting the Valentinos and Ferraras is in a few months, and it’s all the family can talk about.

“We have something to share,” I announce.

Serena raises one perfectly arched brow. “If it’s a gender reveal, I swear to God, Ale?—”

Rory snorts beside me, and I feel her relax just a little.

“No babies,” I say, shooting a look at my cousin. “Not yet anyway. But... we did get married.”

A beat of silence. Then chaos explodes across the Rossis and Valentinos. FromPapàtoMa, to each of my uncles, aunts and cousins.

“What?”

“You what?”

“In the hospital?!”

“No fucking way?—”

“Wait, like actually married?—?”

Rory’s laughing now, her cheeks flushed as I pull her a little closer as we both stand. “Six weeks ago. In Belfast,” she confirms. “It was just us and a priest. I was still half dead, so it was... quiet.”

“But official,” I add.

Uncle Dante makes the sign of the cross like we just told them we’re moving to Antarctica. “Madonna mia. You could’ve told your parents at least. Marco would’ve blessed you with some oil or some other sacredmerda.”