Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
"You don't look quite as innocent as I'd thought," Vitto mutters, his eyes still drinking me in with undeniable hunger. "But I suppose it will have to do. We're going down to the chapel now. There's a priest down there waiting for us."
I pale at the thought of being married to Vitto. Somehow, I believed Adrian would miraculously find me by now and stop this, but there's no sign of my dark knight in shining armor.
I follow Vitto out of the room, grateful for the small mercy that he hasn't attempted to hurt me yet. I don't know what's going to happen in that chapel. All I can think about, stupidly, is that it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding.
If Vitto is having those same thoughts, he doesn't show them in the slightest. He ushers me to a car and handcuffs me in the backseat.
I'm utterly helpless yet again.
He begins the drive to the town about twenty minutes away.
I stare out of the backseat window feeling more trapped than ever. Soon, my life will really be over. Once he makes me say I do, there's not much anyone can do to protect me.
We arrive at the chapel twenty minutes later, and he keeps me handcuffed as he marches me into the chapel.
The gun comes out again, as does a terrified older priest. He won't meet my eyes.
I know he won't answers my pleas to help me get out of this mess, either. And I can't blame him. He's just trying to save his own life, he doesn't need to worry about me too—it's bound to end in disaster.
There's no walk down the aisle, no bouquet of flowers. It's just me, Vitto, the priest and a terrified looking woman who only speaks Italian and is acting as a witness.
"Humor me," Vitto finally speaks up. "Go walk down the aisle."
"Handcuffed?" I hiss.
"Is that a problem?" he smirks at me.
The bastard is making fun of me. He's so sick he's actually fucking enjoying torturing me like this. My hatred for this son of a bitch rises exponentially.
He ushers me to the entrance of the church.
I grit my teeth, hating every second of this. Organ music begins to play and I start walking down the aisle. My eyes are glued to Vitto, but not the way a bride's should be. I hope he knows with every step I take, just how much I fucking hate his psychotic ass.
I keep walking, telling myself to just put one foot in front of the other and take deep, calming breaths. I tell myself everything's going to be okay even though my mind and heart are both screaming at me that it won't—can't be.
I keep repeating my mantra to myself, trying to convince myself everything's going to be okay even as the world burns around me. Then, suddenly, I hear a deafening sound behind me. I turn around.
Vitto's eyes widen and he pulls out his gun. But he's too late.
Gunshots ring out and I start screaming. I throw myself on the ground in an effort not to get hurt. Feet in boots rush past me and I can hear Vitto screaming. I don't know if this is good or bad, but my heart pounds for one man only and I can already feel him here, closer than he's been for weeks...
41
Adrian
Seeing Vitto Donatti cower before me like the cowardly bastard he is will fill me with joy.
I think about all the possibilities of ending his life as we drive to the small town where he's been spotted. I can't be sure until I'm there, but a priest made contact with us, telling us a man that seemed psychotic tried to bribe him into going through with a wedding the woman clearly didn't want.
We're minutes away from the chapel, but I can already smell the change in the air.
It's not just knowing Vitto's near. I can feel Marzia is close by, too. My heart pounds in anticipation. I desperately want to see her. It's only been a few weeks but my life has changed because she's been away. Once I get my hands back on her, I vow to myself to never lose Marzia again. We belong together.
I just hope she's come to the same conclusion.
The moment the car comes to a stop, several armed guards exit with me. My father is at home - I insisted he got some rest after his tireless work finding Marzia. It's because of Father that we're on her track now. If it turns out to be my bambina indeed, I'm going to be beyond fucking grateful to him for finding her.
The men surround the church quietly and I stand in front of the doors. There's a car parked in front of the chapel.‒.something's going on in there for sure ‒ but I still can't be sure whether this is really Vitto Donatti's work.