Til Death Do Us Part
1085 Words
The church looked exactly the same as it had three days ago for Papa's funeral.
Same people in the same benches. Same flowers decorating the altar. The only difference was that today, everyone was pretending to celebrate instead of mourn.
Rafael's hand was firm on my arm as we walked down the aisle together. No father to give me away. Just the Devil escorting his prize to the altar.
I could feel every pair of eyes in the church watching us. Some looked curious, others terrified. A few of the older women crossed themselves as we passed, like they were witnessing something unholy.
They weren't wrong.
When we reached the front, Rafael turned to face me. In the stained glass light, his scar looked even more pronounced. A reminder that he was dangerous in ways I was only beginning to understand.
Father Martinez looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. His hands shook as he opened his Bible.
"Dearly beloved," he began, his voice barely steady. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Rafael De Luca and Maliya Cruize."
I tuned out most of his speech about love and commitment. None of it applied to what was happening here.
This wasn't a wedding. It was a business transaction wrapped in white lies and red silk.
"Do you, Rafael De Luca, take Maliya Cruize to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Father Martinez asked.
Rafael's dark eyes locked onto mine. "I claim Maliya as mine," he said, his voice carrying to every corner of the church. "To possess and protect, to own and worship, until death separates us."
Those weren't the traditional vows. But then again, Rafael had never been traditional.
"And do you, Maliya Cruize, take Rafael De Luca to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
This was it, My last chance to run, to scream, to tell everyone what he'd done to my father.
Instead, I lifted my chin and looked directly into the eyes of my father's killer.
"I vow to remember every sin you've committed against my family," I said clearly. "I vow to stand by your side until I can make you pay for each one. And I promise that death will be a mercy you'll beg for before I'm done with you."
Gasps echoed through the church. Someone in the back actually laughed. Father Martinez looked like he might faint.
Rafael's smile was sharp as a blade. "Perfect," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.
"The rings?" Father Martinez squeaked.
Rafael reached into his jacket and pulled out two platinum bands. He slipped one onto my finger, his touch burning against my skin.
When it was my turn, I took his hand and slid the ring into place. His fingers were warm and and I wondered how many people he'd killed with these hands.
"You may kiss the bride," Father Martinez said, though he looked like he regretted the words immediately.
Rafael's hands cupped my face, his thumbs brushing across my cheekbones. Then his mouth crashed against mine.
The kiss was claiming and fierce and completely wrong. It tasted like whiskey and danger and promises I never wanted to hear. When his tongue swept across my bottom lip, something twisted low in my stomach that I absolutely refused to name.
I bit down hard.
He pulled back with blood on his lip and hunger in his eyes.
"Careful, wife," he whispered against my mouth. "Save some fight for the honeymoon."
The congregation erupted in applause and cheers, though most of it sounded forced. Rafael kept my hand in his as we walked back down the aisle, his grip possessive.
The reception was held in the church hall, decorated with blood-red roses that matched my dress. Everyone came to congratulate us, kissing my cheek and shaking Rafael's hand like this was a normal wedding between two people who actually loved each other.
"Such a beautiful bride," Mrs. Romano cooed, the same woman who'd whispered prayers over my father's coffin.
"Thank you," I replied with a smile that felt like glass.
"And Rafael, you look so handsome. Just like your father did at his wedding."
Rafael's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Thank you for coming, Mrs. Romano."
She moved on, and I filed away that reaction. Any mention of his father bothered him. Good to know.
The next hour passed in a blur of fake congratulations and forced smiles. Rafael played his part perfectly, the devoted new husband who couldn't keep his hands off his bride. Every touch made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to smile and play along.
"I need some air," I finally told him when I couldn't take another second of pretending.
"Don't go far," he said, "We have a schedule to keep."
I made my way toward the bathroom, nodding and smiling at people along the way. The hallway was empty, and I finally allowed myself to breathe.
I splashed cold water on my face, careful not to ruin my makeup. In the mirror, I looked like a stranger.
I was Mrs. Rafael De Luca now. The thought made me sick.
I stayed a few minutes then headed back toward the reception.
Footsteps echoed behind me in the empty hallway. I turned, expecting to see Rafael coming to drag me back to the party.
Instead, Lorenzo stepped out of the shadows.
"We need to talk," he said urgently.
"What are you doing? Rafael will..."
"Rafael is distracted. Listen to me." He grabbed my shoulders. "I need to speak to you.”
I looked at him hesitantly. “I’m listening.”
"Not here. Come with me. Just for a few minutes."
"No." I stepped back. "Lorenzo, I can't. Rafael will notice if I'm gone too long."
"This is important."
"Then tell me here."
"I can't. There are too many people." His grip on my shoulders tightened. "Just trust me."
"I said no." I tried to pull away from him.
"Whatever you want to tell me can wait."
His face changed then. The gentle expression melted away, replaced by something colder.
“I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Before I could ask what he meant, his hand clamped over my mouth and nose with a cloth that smelled like chemicals. I struggled against his strong arm, trying to scream, but the sound was muffled.
"Don't fight it," he whispered in my ear. "This will be easier if you don't fight."
The world started spinning. My legs gave out as darkness pulled me under.
- Writer
