Page 41 of Crowned in Sin
If I close my eyes for long enough, I can almost pretend like he cares about me enough to actually mean everything he says and not just because I’m a convenient way for him to silence a threat to his power.
But then again, hedidstop Frank from taking me away today. Maybe that’s enough for now, and maybe that’s enough for me to believe that he might actually do what he means.
Maybe he’ll be able to help me save my mom, just as I can help him secure his position.
So, I kiss him back, and for the length of one breath I let myself imagine that this man actually means every word and has meant every word that he’s ever said.
When he pulls away, his forehead rests against mine, and neither of us says anything for a long moment.
"Get some sleep,piccola," he murmurs at last, and presses a soft gentle kiss to my forehead. “And let me know if you want another ziti.”
15
LYDIA
My hands won't stay stillin my lap as Anastasio brings the car to a slow stop at the curb.
People are already gathering on the lawn outside of the cathedral. Through the tinted glass, I look at the belltower spearing into the summer sky, casting a long shadow under the hot sun like it knows that it’ll outlast everyone who ever kneels inside it.
Around the door, a crowd is already gathering. Men in dark suits, women in a panoply of colors and styles. I can see and hear the buzz of conversation and laughter even behind the glass, and all of it reminds me that this is a world that I’ve been dragged into.
I twist the simple gold band around my finger, look down at the rich red fabric of my dress that rides too high up my legs, and suddenly wish I could stay here in the car rather than get out to face that crowd.
"Breathe," Nico says quietly.
I look and find him watching me in his charcoal dark suit. He’s chosen a blood-red tie for today to match my dress, and he even pinned a fresh red peony in his jacket lapel to complete the look.
“I am breathing.”
“Piccola, you’re holding your breath,” he says. “Here.”
His hand finds mine, and for a moment, warmth dances up my arms. The gesture is small but it helps. Slowly, I lace my fingers into his, and a knot loosens in my chest.
Sure enough, Iwasholding my breath.
“Just breathe,piccola,” he says again.
Nodding, I do my best to suck in a breath. But all I manage to do is make a strange sound in my throat as nerves threaten to overwhelm me.
His fingers tighten around mine, sending another tremor of heat rushing through my core that both adds and dissolves the tension in my belly. And just like that, I find myself being able to breathe again.
Anastasio gets out of the driver’s seat and opens Nico’s door.
The hot Long Island summer greets us as soon as it swings open. Warm air wraps around my exposed shoulders and legs, leaving the skin sticky and slick with sweat. My dress clings to my skin, and the sweet wet scent of summer grass coats my throat with every nervous breath.
“I’ll be right here next to you.” Nico’s thumb moves across my knuckles. “Stay close and you’ll be fine.”
"Easy for you to say. You’re their Don."
“And you are my wife,” he reminds me. “They’ll kneel for you the same as they’ll bow for me.”
Without releasing my hand, Nico steps out and helps me out of the car. The sound of the conversations rises like a swarm of angry bees. Sweat runs down my exposed back, and he lets go for just a moment before he loops his arm around my waist. His fingers press against my body, and somehow his touch feels even hotter than the sun beaming down from the sky.
But as long as he’s holding me like this, I don’t feel as exposed as I do. I give him a nod, lift my chin, and let him walk me inside.
Thankfully, the inside of the church is cool and dim. The smell of old wood and candle smoke greets us as we enter. Voices echo off the high ceiling, and every head turns when we cross the threshold.
The crowd parts instantly for us, and conversations die as Nico leads me towards the row of pews. He pauses here and there to nod, and receive the respect he’s owed.
