Page 11 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

ELEVEN

RILEY

I ’m still reeling from everything that’s happened since my veil lifted and I found my one-night stand staring down at me.

I haven’t totally ruled out the idea that he knew who I was when we met at the bar. It would make sense that he’d want to make sure I wasn’t a total asshole before tying himself to me for at least ninety days.

What I didn’t expect was how adamant he would be not to let me walk away at the end of the trial period.

I may not know much about the man, but what I do know is that he enjoys…variety in his life. He made quite the name for himself sleeping with half the Mafia princesses in the country when he was in his late teens and a bunch of models in his early twenties.

There haven’t been many conquests recently that I’ve heard about, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

I have no interest in being married to someone who will cheat on me.

My other hard no would be if he was going to try to control me, but I’m not getting that vibe from him so far. If anything, he’s a bit of a golden retriever.

He hasn’t let go of my hand since we left the dressing room, and I’m trying not to think about how good it feels to have my hand nestled in his much larger one.

We pause when the wedding coordinator holds her hand up, saying something into her phone as she looks down at her clipboard.

Cruz turns to me, his fingers grasping my chin and forcing me to look up at him. “When we go in there, I’ll be different. I have to be. The version of me you’ve seen since we left the church? That’s reserved for you and for my mom and sister. Tell me you understand?”

His dark eyes are pleading for me to understand, and as much as I hate to admit it, I do.

It was the same with Dad. He was always a doting father and husband when he was home, but when we attended events with him, he was short with us, uncaring almost.

It took me years to understand that it was a way for him to keep us safe.

I nod. “I understand.”

His shoulders relax slightly, some of the tension falling away. “Thank you, Riley. There are a lot of snakes in the De Luca family, and I’m trying to weed them out, but it’s been hard, and I don’t want you to get hurt in the process.”

“It’s okay, Cruz. I grew up in a Mafia family. I get it.” I lean into his hand, giving him an extra few seconds of reassurance before the coordinator nods for us to go in.

Cruz takes my hand, and I watch as his mask slips into place. The carefree puppy dog I’ve gotten to know over the last hour falls away, and in his place is a cold, unfeeling Mafia boss.

He wraps a possessive arm around my waist, tugs me into his side, and we step forward into the chaos.

People cheer, the sound of metal clinking on glass as they demand we kiss, others waving their napkins around.

I’ve been to hundreds of weddings, but it’s different now that it’s mine, now that I’m the center of attention.

Cruz flexes his hand on my waist, silently providing me with comfort without even looking down at me.

There’s no way he should be so attuned to my body after such a short amount of time knowing one another.

My parents rush us, and I find myself engulfed in Mom’s familiar hug.

“You look so beautiful,” she whispers through tears.

My second dress is still white, but it’s closer to the style I thought I would walk down the aisle in.

The satin bodice fits like a glove, cinching me in before it flows with a natural drop to the ground.

The slit up one leg is both a little sexy while keeping the modesty that’s expected of me, and the front dips just enough that the curve of my breasts is on show.

“Thanks, Mom,” I murmur, clinging onto her like she’s the only thing keeping me upright.

But that’s not the case, not with Cruz’s arm still wrapped possessively around me.

I pull back and brush the stray tear from my cheek, leaning into my new husband without conscious thought.

“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, it’s nice to meet you officially.” Cruz holds a hand out to them, and Dad takes it immediately.

“Please call us Dianne and John. Or Mom and Dad. You’re family now,” Mom gushes, and I have to fight my eye roll.

I had a feeling she was going to be like this when one of us got married. I just didn’t expect it to be me. Cassidy and Ari were always far more likely to be married off to strengthen relations between families, and yet here we are.

Cruz’s lips tip up slightly as he gives a slight nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Dianne and John,” he corrects.

We’re surrounded by people giving us well wishes, and my parents leave us to speak to our guests. All nine hundred and sixty-three of them.

Do I know all of them?

Not even close.

But I smile and greet every single one, accepting their well wishes and congratulations. All the while, Cruz keeps me close to his side, never letting me go, even as we have separate conversations. His about business, mine about being a good Mafia wife and running a household.

It takes everything I have in me not to roll my eyes when someone named Susan tells me they’re expecting the pitter-patter of little feet within the year.

Because that’s all I’m good for.

To give Cruz an heir.

Just the thought of it has nausea rolling over me in brutal waves, something that Cruz seems to notice.

He excuses himself from his conversation, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. “We want to spend at least a few years getting to know each other before we think about starting a family,” he replies for me, and I find myself looking up at him with furrowed brows.

We are?

“And if Riley and I decide we don’t want children, then I’ll start looking internally for an heir to the family.”

He will?

A wave of dizziness comes over me, and I press my eyes shut as I try to center myself. I’ve always been prone to anxiety, but it’s been a while since I’ve felt so out of control, and it’s making my body go haywire.

“If you’ll excuse me, we could both use a few minutes to ourselves. I’m sure you understand how overwhelming this kind of event can be.”

Cruz doesn’t wait for her response before guiding me around the tables and through a door I didn’t notice until I was stepping through it.

The world feels like it’s closing in on me as my breath saws in and out of my lungs, panic dragging me under faster than I can work through the exercises I’ve spent years practicing.

As soon as we’re in a quiet hallway, I drop into a crouch, pressing my eyes closed as I try to imagine my happy place—the park overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. I spent hours there most weeks, just watching the world go by beneath me, thinking about what the future might hold.

“Riley?” Cruz’s voice is muffled, like he’s far away, but from the gentle caress of his fingers down my bare arms, I know he’s right in front of me. “Breathe for me, Kitten.”

I’m not sure why, but I long to follow the gentle command. I will my body to calm down, to drag my mind out of the fight-or-flight response that is too easily triggered, but it’s fruitless.

The harder I try to pull myself out, the deeper the panic ingrains itself.

Every breath into my lungs is like a million razor blades, excruciating and hard.

“Come on, baby. You can come back to me. I know you can do it,” he murmurs, his touch the only thing stopping me from falling completely into the darkness. “I know today has been a lot. I’m sorry. I wish I could call Ben and get us out of here right now.”

He means that. I don’t know how I know, how I can interpret his emotions as mine run wild through my chest, but it’s clear as day how sincere he’s being.

I’m not sure how it happens, but one second we’re both crouching, and the next he has me wrapped around him like a koala with him sitting on the floor, no regard for getting his pristine black suit dirty.

“You take all the time you need, Kitten. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

And he means every word.