Page 66 of Savage Saint (Empire of Secrets #2)

ANGELO

T he rhythmic thump of helicopter blades cuts through the morning silence, drawing my attention to the window. I watch as the sleek black aircraft descends onto my property, its arrival as dramatic as the person I know is inside.

The door opens, and Arrow steps out in full fabulous glory.

Designer suit tailored to perfection, hair styled with mathematical precision, and, of course, black eyeliner that makes their eyes pop like a cat's.

They stride across my lawn like they own it, radiating the kind of confidence that comes from being both a genius and knowing it.

"ARROW!" Alessa's delighted shriek echoes from upstairs where she's been helping Kasia get ready. She flies down the stairs and out the door, launching herself at them in a hug that Arrow returns with equal enthusiasm.

"Darling, you look radiant," Arrow says, holding her at arm's length to examine her. "Marriage clearly agrees with you."

I lean against the doorframe, watching their reunion with amusement. It's strange seeing my house, my sanctuary, filled with people. Stranger still that it feels right.

"Well, well." Arrow's attention shifts to me, their smile turning wicked. "Angelo Santoro, getting married. Who would have thought? Two Santoro weddings in as many weeks."

Alessa's face drains of colour so fast I'm worried she might faint.

"Arrow!" she hisses.

"What?" They blink innocently. "Oh, was that supposed to be a secret?"

"You knew?" I ask, though I'm not really surprised. Arrow knows everything.

"Please," they scoff. "I have access to every database in the country. You think a Vegas wedding certificate is going to escape my notice?"

"Dante's going to kill me," Alessa groans.

"No, he won't." I can't help but smirk. "He's too busy being disgustingly in love with his wife to commit murder."

The word 'wife' makes Alessa blush prettily. "You're not going to tell him you know?"

"Oh, I'm definitely telling him. Right after he finishes lecturing me about rushing into marriage with Kasia."

Arrow claps their hands together. "Speaking of which, shall we get this show on the road? I have documents that need signing, rings that need presenting, and a best friend's brother-in-law who needs marrying off."

They produce a leather folder from seemingly nowhere, flipping it open to reveal perfectly organised marriage documents.

"Everything's ready. I've handled the expedited license, the officiant registration for Dante, and all the legal technicalities. All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and say 'I do.'"

"Efficient as always," I murmur, scanning the documents.

"Efficiency is my middle name. Well, actually it's Maximilian, but that's neither here nor there." They pull out an elegant box next. "Now, for the pièce de résistance."

Inside are two rings that take my breath away. Black diamonds and white diamonds woven together in an intricate pattern, masculine yet elegant.

"Black diamonds for your past," Arrow explains, "white for your future. And yes, before you ask, there are tracking devices embedded in the bands. State of the art, completely undetectable."

"Tracking devices?" Alessa laughs. "Seriously?"

"Just in case either of them decides to go rogue," Arrow says with a wink. "But really, I thought it was romantic. You'll always be able to find each other."

The sound of cars approaching draws our attention. Dante's Maserati pulls up first, followed by Luca's Ferrari.

"The gang's all here," Arrow murmurs. "This should be interesting."

Dante steps out, impeccable as always in a charcoal suit. His eyes find Alessa immediately, and the hard lines of his face soften into something almost vulnerable.

"Found your wife, I see?" I say just loud enough for him to hear.

He freezes mid-step. "How did you—"

"Vegas, really?" I can't resist needling him. "I expected something classier from you, brother."

"It was spontaneous," Alessa defends, moving to his side.

"It was perfect," Dante corrects, pulling her against him. His eyes meet mine over her head. "And at least I didn't wait until three days after our father's death to marry someone I've known for a few weeks."

"Fair point."

Luca emerges from his car, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows. "Did I miss something?"

"Dante and Alessa got married in Vegas last weekend," I inform him.

"For fuck's sake." Luca runs a hand through his hair. "Have both of you completely lost your minds?"

"Yes," Dante and I answer in unison.

"At least we agree on something," I mutter.

"Alright, boys," Arrow interrupts. "Save the family drama for after the wedding. Angelo, you need to get ready. Dante, Luca, you're with him. I'll help Alessa with Kasia."

"Since when are you in charge?" Luca asks.

Arrow fixes him with a look that could freeze hell. "Since I'm the only one here with any sense of style and timing. Now move."

Twenty minutes later, I stand in my bedroom while my brothers fuss over me like mother hens. It should feel suffocating. Instead, it feels like something I didn't know I was missing.

"Hold still," Dante orders, adjusting my tie with practised precision. "You're fidgeting like a teenager."

"I don't fidget."

"You're literally fidgeting right now," Luca points out, handing me cufflinks.

I recognise them immediately; they are our mother's. The ones she wore on special occasions, delicate silver with the Santoro crest.

"She would have wanted you to have these today," Luca says quietly.

Something thick lodges in my throat. "Luca—"

"Don't get sentimental on me now," he warns, but his voice is rough. "Save it for your bride."

Dante finishes with my tie and steps back, studying me. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"You getting married or me getting married?"

"Both." He's quiet for a moment. "You know what you're doing? Marrying her this fast?"

"Did you know what you were doing in Vegas?"

A smile tugs at his lips. "Point taken."

"It's different with her." I struggle for words. "Like recognising something in her I didn't know I was looking for."

"The darkness," Luca says simply.

I nod. "She sees all of it. Accepts it. Matches it." I meet Dante's eyes. "I can't let her go."

"Then don't," Dante says. "God knows we all deserve whatever happiness we can steal from this life."

A knock interrupts us. "Gentlemen," Arrow's voice filters through. "The bride is ready, and Marco just arrived. Fair warning, he's already crying."

"Of course he is," Luca mutters.

Before we head down, I catch a moment alone in the hallway with Kasia. She's radiant in her simple dress, but it's the look in her eyes that stops me cold.

"That night on the rooftop," I say, voice rough. "When you were in the pool... I've never wanted anyone the way I wanted you then. The way I still want you now."

She steps closer, her hand touching my face with a tenderness that undoes me. "I wanted you to taste me," she whispers. "I still do."

My breath catches. "Butterfly—"

"After," she promises, her thumb tracing my bottom lip. "After, I'm yours completely."

"You already are," I growl.

"Then prove it, husband."

The word 'husband' from her lips sends heat straight through me. Before I can respond, Arrow's voice cuts through the moment.

"Save it for the honeymoon, lovebirds! We have a wedding to conduct!"

We make our way downstairs, where Marco is indeed already emotional, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Angelo!" He pulls me into a crushing hug. "I can't believe you're getting married! I just can't!"

"Marco, you're going to wrinkle his suit," Mel says, but she's smiling, her own eyes suspiciously bright.

"Let him wrinkle it," I say, surprising myself. "Some things are more important than perfect suits."

Marco pulls back, tears streaming freely now. "This is the most amazing day and—"

"Alright," Arrow interrupts, all business. "Time to head up. Angelo, lead the way to this mysterious rooftop you've been hiding."

I guide them to the narrow staircase hidden between the bookshelves. "Watch your heads."

"Secret passages," Arrow murmurs approvingly. "Very Gothic romance."

The rooftop takes my breath away when we emerge.

Someone—Kasia and Alessa, I'm guessing—has transformed it.

White roses frame the pool's edge, their petals catching the afternoon light.

The pool itself has been covered with a thick glass panel, turning it into a floor, with chairs arranged on either side.

At the far end, facing the mountains, stands a simple arch woven with more white flowers.

Candles in hurricane glasses dot every surface, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze.

The mountains stretch endlessly beyond, and below, Blackwood spreads out like a glittering promise covered in white mist. The scent of roses mingles with the faint trace of gunpowder that always clings to my hands. Even here, even now, I am who I am.

"It's perfect," I breathe.

"Of course it is," Arrow says. "We don't do anything halfway."

Dante takes his position at the arch, looking every inch the don even as his eyes soften watching Alessa fuss with the last details.

"Ready?" Luca asks, clapping me on the shoulder.

I think about Kasia downstairs. About the first time I saw her in that container, broken but not beaten. About every moment since, the fear, the trust, the desire, the understanding.

"I've been ready since the moment I found her," I admit.

Marco starts crying harder. "That's so beautiful!"

"Here," Mel hands him a fresh handkerchief. "You're going to need this."

We take our positions. Me at the arch with Dante. Luca and Alessa flanking us. Arrow near the stairs with their phone ready. Marco, Antonio and Mel in the front row, Marco already working through his second handkerchief.

Then I hear footsteps on the stairs.

My heart actually stops.