Page 60 of Bound in Vengeance
Rosalia and Eleonora flank me as I walk down the grand staircase, the luxurious silk and sheer lace of my chosen dress whispering against the wood with every step. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, a frantic, erratic rhythm that threatens to choke me.
I’m marrying Alessandro today.
Do I want this?
Of course, I don’t!
Men like Alessandro, powerful, ruthless men like him, have no real respect for women. They never see women as their equals. To them, we are chess pieces, alliances, or possessions. And don’t even get me started on the abuse. I’ve seen it firsthand. I know the dark, hidden bruises that come with a syndicate marriage.
Alessandro has never abused me in any way—if anything, his dark protectiveness has felt like a shield—but... but that doesn’t mean he won’t. He’s probably just biding his time until the vows are spoken and the ring is securely on my finger. That way, he knows there will be no escape for me. Once I belong to him legally, the mask can slide off.
My heart thunders against my ribs, a terrifying crescendo. God. I can’t do this. I really can’t do this.
Just as the panic threatens to paralyze my legs, Rosalia gently touches my arm as we step out the back door toward the sunlit garden. She leans in close, her voice a soothing whisper against the roar in my ears.
"It’s okay," she says softly, her eyes searching mine. "You’ll be fine, Sienna."
I manage a stiff, tight nod. I don’t believe her for a single second, but there is absolutely nothing I can do. The machinery of two massive empires is already in motion. I am entirely powerless to stop this, and all I can do right now is square my shoulders, lift my chin, and walk straight into the lion's den.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ALESSANDRO
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I am in an absolutely foul mood.
I’m standing at the altar, the priest right beside me, the soft music flowing from a harp playing on the other end of the pavilion. Although the melody is sweet and I probably would have appreciated the soft, lilting tunes on any other day, today all it does is infiltrate my head and wrap itself around the chaos I’m already feeling. The noise inside my own mind is too damn much, and I want it to stop.
We’re supposed to be having a small, private wedding, but there is still a much bigger crowd here than I’d have liked. We have family, senior members, and associates packed into the rows—all faces I’d honestly rather not see today.
Especially Luca and Pietro. The elders are also present, sitting near the front, but at least they have the goddamn composure to mask their thoughts. Pietro, however, is glaring at me from his seat toward the back, his eyes drilling holes into my skull. Meanwhile, Luca is just sitting there with a massive, mocking grin on his face. It sets my teeth on edge.
What the fuck is he smiling at me for?
We already ran into each other outside before the ceremony started, and the hostility between us was completely obvious, even to Massimo. Pietro still hasn’t forgiven me for shooting him, and then there’s Matteo, who is currently staring at me too, obviously not forgiving my move the other evening, even though he got off easy.
I don’t care. I don’t go around looking to pick fights, but I sure as hell don’t run away from them either. Anyone who comes looking for trouble will find it with me. That’s my motto.
I force myself to look away from Luca’s face just as the heavy garden doors open, and Sienna is ushered into the sunlight on Massimo’s arm.
The moment I lay eyes on her, the noise in my head stops completely.
All I feel is two distinct things.
First, I feel calm. Which instantly sets something terrifying off inside me. Up until this exact second, I’ve mainly seen this wedding as a political need. I’ve refused to take it seriously because the entire idea of marriage repulses me. I don’t like to be attached to one woman, and the thought of forcing myself into loyalty when I prefer to get my dick wet without seeing the same faces staring at me every morning makes me sick.
But right now, watching her walk down the aisle toward me, all I feel is peace. Like I really, truly want this.
But before this peace can fully blossom into something else, the second emotion hits me square in the chest. Pure annoyance.
Because why the fuck is my wife—yes, she’s already my wife, I don’t give a single fuck about the vows—wearing that?!
She looks divine, as always. The white wedding dress clings to her body in all the right places, accentuating the perfect, mesmerizing sway of her hips as she walks toward me.
But this isn’t the dress I chose for her. This isn’t the dress I bought for her. If I remember correctly, this was the exact dress she first reached for at the store—the one I shut down immediately because it’s provocative. I'd be damned if I let my wife wear something that’ll make other men go crazy with lust. She’s already too fucking beautiful for her own good as it is.
I cast a quick, lethal glance over the crowd. Sure enough, half the senior members are staring at her with their mouths open, andLuca’s smirk has morphed into a dark, predatory stare. My fists clench at my sides.
