Page 103 of The Enslaved Duet

I nodded, still overcome by tears, and then beamed when he ducked down to press a quick kiss to my cheek again before taking off.

“Are you ready, honey?” Mrs. White asked, checking the clock on the vanity. “It’s time to go down to the chapel.”

Each step I took toward the little chapel attached to the house tripped my heartbeat into a higher cadence.

What if he stood me up?

What if Sherwood came and put a stop to the proceedings?

What if I was making the biggest mistake of my life?

But more, what if I wasn’t?

What if every hard decision and bad moment in my life had led me to exactly this moment where I was supposed to be? What if Alexander was my reward for a short life hard lived?

What if this was my happily ever after?

I swallowed thickly as we reached the closed arched doors to the chapel, and Mrs. White helped me throw the lace veil over my head before giving me a delicate hug and then dashing into the room so she could watch the ceremony.

My hands fidgeted with my bouquet of poppies as I looked at the ceiling and tried to calm my racing breath.

“Are you sure about this?”

I froze and then slowly turned to face Dante, who was leaning languorously against a pillar behind me. There was a cigarette wedged into the corner of his mouth, and it curled the sweet scent of Italian tobacco into the air.

“God, don’t cry,” he demanded when he saw the tears rush to my eyes.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” I told him because I was emotional, and it was true.

Somehow, Dante had mired himself in my story as an improbable villain and a surprising white knight.

“Cosi, are you sure you want to marry him? You have options. Salvatore has a car waiting by the gates and we can spirit you away to America with Alexander none the wiser.” Dante moved forward to run his fingers gently over my cheek through the veil. “It would be a shame to waste this once-in-a-lifetime beauty on someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Tears trembled in the overfull trough of my lower lids, but I valiantly fought to keep them from spilling over.

“I love him,” I whispered brokenly even though the feel of it in my hair felt like glue, holding the dangerous and ill-fitted parts of my life and personality together in careful unity. “Dio mio, Dante, I love him.”

He sighed and placed his heavy hands on my shoulders. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve been through a lot, and in some ways, he’s pulled through for you. I even think, in his own fucked-up way, he loves you too.”

“Maybe,” I said, as if I wasn’t hoping for the same thing with every breath in my body.

“I’ll stick around until the end, just in case you need me,” he promised before he leaned down to press a kiss to my cheek.

I wanted to believe I wouldn’t need him, but my bad luck ran so deep I felt as if I was a black cat.

He stepped away from the door, the sound of his shoes fading as he moved down the hall.

A moment later, the swell of the wedding march sounded over the chapel’s ancient organ, and the doors flew open to admit me.

There were pews filled with people. Villagers from the town down the hill, people from Alexander’s company who had travelled in from London, distant relatives, and a few hand-picked men from the Order. I recognized no one, but then again, I wasn’t looking at the pews.

My eyes were locked on Alexander where he stood before the altar in a dark grey metallic suit that perfectly matched the shade of his irises. His hair was pushed back, his strong jaw clean shaved, and he had never looked so handsome, so like a king.

It was none of that which held me arrested, though.

I couldn’t look away from the expression on his face as he watched me appear and then walk down the aisle toward him.

He looked like a dying man who had been sent an angel as a messenger from God to tell him of his future salvation.