Page 35 of Enzo

“Do you, Penelope DiMauro, take Enzo Marchetti to be your wedded husband? To love and to cherish until death do you part?”

Silence stretched while everyone held their breath like a bomb was ticking down until someone cleared their throat and her ocean-blue eyes lifted to mine.

“Till death do us part, I do.”

It was a strange response, but I didn’t ponder on it, because “You may kiss the bride” was swiftly uttered by the priest.

Penelope stiffened, her eyes going wide as the weight of every gaze in the room pressed down on us. But the crowd didn’t matter, only she did. I cradled the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair, and leaned in, capturing her soft lips with mine.

She gasped, and I drank in the sound, sealing our promise with something deeper than words.

Above us, the wedding bell tolled, announcing not only our marriage but our official beginning.

Her sweet scent was intoxicating and desire kindled inside me. And then pain pierced through my bottom lip and I pulled back in shock.

Shebitme!

“I don’t feel much like kissing,” she hissed, holding my gaze. Her eyes shone with rebellion and defiance while a blush blotched her creamy neck and crept up her cheeks.

“I fucking love when you show your claws,” I said, watching her expression turn into one of shock. Then I straightened before I led her down the aisle and out of the church.

Her papà was the first to show up to “congratulate” us.

“Better treat my princess well,” was his warning, his gaze darting to where hisprincesshad bitten me. “Or you’ll have me to deal with.”

“Don’t worry about your princess, Luca,” I retorted dryly. “She’s myqueennow.”

My father-in-law took a menacing step forward, but before he could act, his wife was by his side.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” she said with a strained smile, pulling her daughter into an embrace. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

My wife’s smile was stiff, but then her papà stepped up to her again and hugged her. A part of me was jealous that Penelope sank into him with trust. Would she ever let me in enough to feel that sense of ease?

“We’ll wait for you at the house for the reception,” her mama offered, her eyes darting to me with a look that was a little too close to pity.

Penelope kissed her father’s cheek, and he reluctantly took a step back, gesturing with his fingers to show he was watching me.

I bit back the urge to roll my eyes and gave a tight-lipped smile instead. “Watch all you want, but she’s mine now.”

Her siblings were next, and they greeted her one by one as their mother dragged Luca away.

It would be a miracle if nobody died at this reception.

13

PENELOPE

Icould hardly believethiswas the start of my marriage.

My new husband behaved like I was something heowned. Like an accessory. And Papà was so tense I feared he’d spontaneously combust. Honestly, I was worried he’d strangle my brand-new husband, leaving me a widow before we even made it to the reception canapés.

Not that I would mind, but it would threaten the safety of my siblings.

After the minor incident between my family and Enzo, he ushered me into a gilded carriage pulled by white horses.

Knowing when to pick my battles, I stepped inside without a word. He was delusional if he thought I’d be wowed by some fairy-tale extravagance.

He took the reins from the coachman, much to the man’s disapproval.