Page 1 of Urgent Vows
Chapter 1
SEVERU
The wedding march begins its sonorous tones from the organ, but the doors at the back of the cathedral remain closed.
The flower girl is standing alone on the other side of the altar, looking nervous. The maid of honor is supposed to be with her, but Catalina Jilani, my bride's older sister, did not walk down the aisle as she was supposed to do.
"What is going on?" My brother and best man, Miceli, asks me. "Where is the maid of honor?"
"I don't know."
Then the doors open and my bride steps in beside her father. She's not carrying her bouquet, nor is she holding onto his arm.
This is not what we decided on at the rehearsal either.
She takes one slow, halting, wedding march step and then two. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Wishing cannot make it true, but the woman walking toward me does not move like Carlotta.
Even if she's wearing shoes with no heel at all, she's too short. Her veil hides her bustline, but I know those curves. They've been turning me on and featuring in my dreams for three months. They don't belong to the woman who promised to marry me.
It is not Carlotta walking toward me, but the missing maid of honor, Catalina. Miceli's harshly indrawn breath says he realizes it too.
My first reaction is relief.
I am not going to be forced by my honor to marry a woman I do not want while craving her sister. Quickly on the heels of that relief comes fury. Francesco is trying to perpetuate a bait and switch on me. Me? His don?
Why? And how the hell does he think he's going to get away with such an insult?
My consigliere often thinks he's smarter than anyone else, but there is no way he believes I will not notice I married the wrong woman. Is he relying on me staying silent because I don't want to look like an ass? Clearly, he assumes I won't notice it is Catalina until after the vows are spoken. My consigliere thinks I'm a fucking idiot.
More importantly, why in the hell is Catalina going along with this? The thought that she would try to dupe me pisses me off even more than her father's treachery.
I wait in silence, letting my consigliere and his oldest daughter dig the hole they are going to fall in deeper and deeper with each deceitful step. This wasn't supposed to be a red wedding, but I'm going to kill one of my top men today.
Francesco affirms that he is giving Madonna Jilani to me in wedded matrimony when the priest asks. He then shuffles away to take a seat in the front pew.
That was almost clever. Following the tradition in his family, both of his daughters have the first name of Madonna, but my bride's middle name and the one she goes by is Carlotta.
Her sister is Catalina.
The deceitful bitch standing at the bottom step of the altar.
I'm supposed to go to her and hold my hand out to guide her up the steps. I don't.
Seemingly unaffected by the slight, she takes each stair one at a time. She does not stop in front of the priest but continues until she is standing directly in front of me.
There, she stops and lifts her veil.
Hazel eyes turned green with strong emotion meet mine. "I need to speak to you."
My first thought is that she's not trying to trick me. My second one spawns from the hand size red mark on her cheek. I am going to kill that son of a bitch. He fucking hit her. Rage like I've never felt before turns my vision red.
I signal for six of my men to join us at the altar and to create a wall between us and the wedding guests, who have started whispering amongst themselves. Every single one of them has witnessed my consigliere'sattempt to trick me into marrying his oldest daughter.
"Let me up there. I need to talk to the don. Take your hands off me." Francesco is making a nuisance of himself. I signal to Luigi to keep him back. If he gets within striking distance, I will kill him in front of too damn many witnesses.
Catalina is biting her lip and looking everywhere but at me now. Her gaze lands on the ring bearer, my three-year-old nephew, Neri, and then goes to the flower girl across from us. Both are fidgeting.
"Can we let the children go to their parents?" she asks, her soft voice strained.
