God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

I’m busy doing Aunt Aida’s makeup for the wedding when Aunt Greta rushes into the room, looking frazzled.

“You need to take a break,” I tell her while I swipe some mascara onto Aunt Aida’s lashes.

“I’ll take a break after the wedding,” Aunt Greta says as she sits down on the side of my bed. She glances around the room. “Are you going to stay here or move to Damiano’s suite?”

I already spend every night in Damiano’s bed, and half of my stuff is in his bathroom, but I’m not telling them that.

“I’ll move everything tomorrow,” I reply.

“Has he told you where he’s taking you for the honeymoon?” Aunt Aida asks.

“No. He only said we’ll leave after New Year’s,” I answer before sitting back to check her makeup. “There we go. You’re ready.”

She glances in Aunt Greta’s direction. “How do I look?”

“Very beautiful and ten years younger.” Aunt Greta gives me a pointed look. “You better work your magic on my face. These wrinkles are taking over.”

Aunt Aida and Aunt Greta swap places, and I start by cleaning Aunt Greta’s skin before putting on moisturizer.

“Are you excited?” Aunt Greta asks, her eyes drifting over my face.

“I am.” A smile tugs at my mouth. “It’s a great honor to become a member of the Falco family.”

“Is that the only reason?” Aunt Aida asks.

“No.” My cheeks warm a little before I admit, “I’m excited because I can’t wait to share my life with Damiano.”

“Do you love him?” Aunt Greta asks.

I let out a chuckle. “Enough with the questions. You’ll find out soon enough.”

When I’m done with Aunt Greta’s makeup, she looks in the mirror, and a happy smile spreads over her face. “You have performed a miracle, cara. Thank you.”

Hoping to get a few minutes to myself, I say, “Go get dressed while I do my makeup.”

I watch as they leave my bedroom before I look at the ring on my finger.

I’m marrying Damiano today.

“Christ,” he says, appearing in the doorway as if my imagination conjured him up, “I thought they’d never leave.”

“Did you see your mom’s makeup?” I ask.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

He nods as he shuts the door. “She looks beautiful and happy. Thank you for all the attention you’re giving her.”

I stand up, but when a serious expression tightens his features, I freeze.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

He shakes his head, and taking my hand, he drops to his knee in front of me.

Holy crap.

Looking up at me, he says, “I gave you no choice when I took you, and I don’t regret it.” His thumb brushes over the engagement ring on my finger. “You have a hold on me I can’t shake, Gabriella. You’ve crawled into my heart, and I’ve become fucking obsessed with you.”

A lump forms in my throat, and I’m so glad I haven’t put on my makeup yet.

“I love you.” His tone grows softer. “I hope you’ll learn to love me.”

Damiano Falco is mine.

I have the most powerful man kneeling at my feet.

Knowing he’ll never hurt me and it’s safe to be vulnerable, I admit, “I have.”

His eyes darken as he stares at me.

“I love you, Damiano,” I say the words out loud for the first time in my life.

He shoots to his feet, his hands cup my cheeks, and his mouth takes mine in a feverish kiss.

When his body tries to push mine toward the bed, I place my hands on his chest and break the kiss.

“No sex. I have to get ready, and so do you,” I say sternly.

He lets out an unintelligible sound, then sighs. Brushing his palms up and down my sides, he mutters, “I can’t wait for this day to be over.”

I lift my hand to his jaw, and he presses a kiss to my palm.

“Go get ready and wait for me at the altar.”

“Don’t make me wait long,” he orders before he walks to the door. He looks at me one last time then leaves.

Feeling like a queen, I look at my reflection in the mirror.

Aunt Aida and Aunt Greta have gone to take their seats, and everyone’s waiting for me.

There’s a knock at the door, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see Carlo.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod, and turning around, I walk toward him.

“Did Damiano send you to make sure I don’t run away?” I ask.

He lets out a chuckle. “Something like that.”

As we wait for the elevator, he clears his throat. “You look beautiful, Gabriella.”

“Thank you.”

The doors open, and we step inside. Carlo has to help me with the dress so it doesn’t get caught in the doors.

When we step out onto the first floor, Carlo says, “Good luck.”

I suck in a deep breath and walk down the hallway toward the sunroom.

Damiano refused for the wedding to be held outside. He didn’t want me out in the cold wearing only a dress.

I stop a couple of feet before the doorway, and Carlo heads inside to give the signal that I’m ready.

The notes slowly start to fill the air as ‘Pachelbel Canon in D’ begins to play.

I close my eyes and suck in a desperate breath.

Don’t cry.

Slowly, I start to walk, and when I enter the room, my eyes search for Damiano. Finding him, I keep my gaze locked on my groom, and with my head held high, I walk toward the man I’ll spend the rest of my life with.

When he sees me, it looks like he takes a physical blow to the stomach, even staggering a step back, and tears jump to my eyes.

His jaw clenches, but then he shakes his head, and emotions tighten his features.

“Christ, you look breathtaking, mia regina,” he says when I’m halfway down the aisle.

My eyebrows draw together, and I almost let out a sob, but I swallow it down, my body trembling from all the effort it’s taking not to cry.

I come to a stop in front of Damiano, and seeing how emotional he looks, I can’t stop a tear from escaping.

He reaches for my face and wipes the tear away, then looks at the priest.

“Damiano and Gabriella, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?” the priest asks.

“I have,” Damiano answers.

My voice is hoarse when I say, “I have.”

“Since it’s your intention to enter into the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and His church.”

Damiano grabs my right hand before I can even lift it, and I let out a chuckle.

My impatient man.

“I, Damiano Custanti Falco, take you, Gabriella di Bella, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life.”

Hearing the words from Damiano makes it impossible for me to keep the tears back, and as they start to fall, my voice is shaky as I vow, “I, Gabriella di Bella, take you, Damiano Custanti Falco, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life.”

Damiano takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to inhale my words, then the priest says, “What God joins together, let no one put asunder.” He glances between us. “Exchange wedding rings.”

Carlo steps forward, holding out a satin pillow with two wedding bands resting on top of it.

I take the bigger one while Damiano picks up the small one.

He takes my left hand, then orders, “Look at me.”

A smile spreads over my face as I meet his eyes.

“Gabriella, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

I feel how he pushes the wedding band onto my finger, then he adds, “It’s you and me forever, mia regina.”

I nod before I look down to position the wedding band by his ring finger, then glance up again as I say, “Damiano, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” I push the ring onto his finger. “You and me, until the end, mio re.”

“In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Damiano lifts his hands, and framing my face, he presses a tender kiss to my mouth. He pulls back an inch, and when our eyes meet, he says, “I love you, my wife.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and whisper, “I love you, my husband.” Then, pulling him back to me, I seal my mouth to his.