Page 35 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption-

“Careful now. That sort of reaction might give me the wrong idea. And I fucking love those wrong ideas.”

Before I can form any kind of rebuttal, Father Luigi comes in with the packages and my heart twists at what’s on top.

The cheap flowers I’d bought that morning have been turned into a pretty arrangement so I could have a touch of spring in the fall.

“Makeup, shoes, a selection of dresses. Pick one, a nice one. Try and look pretty, and get your ass up there asap,” Torin says as he gestures for Luigi to leave ahead of him.

I shove the door shut and think about dropping to my knees and praying.

Some people need the comfort church brings them. They need their God, their Jesus, their Bible.

But God won’t stop flood or fires. He won’t stop bullets, either. And if He didn’t save me before, then He won’t now. I let out a hiss of breath and open the first package.

There’s a white dress I sometimes wear in warmer weather. It’s one of those loose numbers. Not at all sexy or revealing, but definitely virginal.

There’s a nightie, too. One I dragged from Ireland; the same oneI wore when I lived at the Holy Mary School for Orphans. It’s cotton and floor-length. Little buttons on the front. A high ruffle at the neck.

Then I pull out two dresses. One cream and one white.

The cream one is exquisite. Delicate and fitted with a gossamer tulle skirt. The bare shoulders and neckline are just the right side of church tasteful, and I think I’m in love with it.

I’ve never had anything so pretty.

The other is a white evening dress, and while it’s also beautiful, I can’t stop touching the cream one. With the tiny crystals sprinkled over the gauzy skirt, it would look magical in the flickering candlelight. I sigh and open the next box to find a pretty lace bra and panties in my size. There are two pairs of shoes in the final box; one is a sexy pair of bright-red patent leather high heels. A note is stuck to the top of the box, saying the white satin ones in my size are out. And the other shoes are satin cream, a perfect match for the cream dress.

Shit, he even included makeup and some ribbons for me to wrap around the flowers.

I want to put on that cream dress so badly.

But I don’t.

Instead, I put together an outfit that will hopefully make him run for his life. And I grab something from a drawer for good measure and put it on. Then I pick up the flowers and head up the stairs like I’m walking down death row.

Voices float into the air when I reach the sacristy, and I’m unsure of where to go when Torin steps in.

He looks me over, head to toe.

And then he circles me. Slowly.

He stops behind me and eases my hair out from under the heavy, oversize cross I hung around my neck. “You look so… fetching. But I don’t want your hair to get caught in your delicate jewelry. Religious, are we?”

“What do you think?” I snap.

“That you’re trying too hard. Like with the dress.”

“It’s a nightgown.”

“I’m aware.”

“To embarrass you,” I say, clutching the flowers tightly. “Can we just get this over with?”

“I’m not embarrassed, and I like that you wore it for me.” He lets go of my hand and gives the skirt a tug but doesn’t react to the patent leather shoes. “We can go and get married now. I’ll fuck the religion out of you later.”

I ignore the tiny frisson of excitement at his words.

“I can’t wait,” I say with a snarl.

If he dares touch me with his cock, I’ll steal his knife and cut it off.