Page 172 of Shades of Loyalty

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I gulp when he presses a soft kiss against my cheek, leaving me blushing, the soft cream blush Katya applied not needed. any more now

Holy shit, how am I gonna survive staying in this dress until tonight?

My lips part, just slightly. He notices.

Of coursehe notices.

He always does.

But he doesn't smirk this time. At least not in that smug, cocky way. It’s a soft, genuine smile.

A smile a husband carries as he looks at his wife. We’re just a few minutes away from it, but I can’t wait.

I need to be his.

I need him to be mine.

He just keeps holding my hands—firm, grounded—and looks at me like I’m made of gold. Like I’m sacred.

Like I’m the most expensive and important thing he’s ever seen in his life.

And at that moment, I know.

I know he’s not just marrying me toprotectme. Not just because of Mary. Not because of the mess we survived or the mafia rules or any of that.

He’s marrying me because he wantsthis. Me. Us.

He wants us to be a family.

He leans in again, voice a little lower now. “Are you ready to become mine, Mrs. Caruso?”

I nod slowly, wanting to drown in the sound of his deep, yet sweet voice. “I’ve always been ready.”

And then the priest speaks, but I barely hear a word.

Because he still hasn’t let go of my hands.

And I hope he never does.

I hope, no I need him to stay with me forever. There is no other option. Not anymore.

Now that Mary’s happy giggles are audible, bouncing off the church’s walls as the priests says a bunch of words my mind can’t make out, I know that there’s no going back.

Divorce is always possible for others.

But it’s not a fucking option forus. The only way out of this is death.

And we’re not choosing this path. Not yet. Not today, and I wish—not ever.

The priest clears his throat, and I barely manage to blink out of it when he turns to Daniel.

Shit, this is really happening, right?

“Do you, Daniel Caruso, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Daniel doesn’t hesitate. Not for a single second. “I do.”

He pauses. Then adds, lower, just for me, “I fucking do.”

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