Wrong Bride

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

KIERAN VESCARI

I stood at the altar of St. Catherine’s cathedral with my hands clasped behind my back, waiting for the moment the huge doors open for my bride to walk down the aisle. My eyes moved around to survey the three hundred guests who waited in silence. I had invited all of them to be here; politicians, judges, and rival family heads, they wouldn’t dare disrespect me with their absence.

Belinda Russo was a means to an end. It was a way to take over the Russo territory. They had the largest shipping routes, and I needed new channels for my drug-smuggling.

I did a thorough research on her, so I would know first-hand what I was dealing with. She was twenty-four years old, spoilt, predictable in her vanity, tastes and appetites. She would give me heirs and stay out of my way and in return I would give her wealth and status. It was a fair trade.

It was not a wedding. It was a business transaction.

The massive doors opened and then the organs started playing. I stood up straighter.

“Belinda.” My mind said as I saw her, but then something felt off as she moved at the back of the cathedral. It was her walking steps…no her entire body language. She didn’t walk in the confident way that I noted about her. Belinda was one to walk into any room like she owned it. I had seen it that night of the engagement. This woman walked like she was heading to her own execution. I noticed her father’s strong grip on her upper arm. It was the only thing keeping her upright.

Half the city is terrified of you. Including her. It should be wedding nerves.

But as she drew closer, my frown deepened. She seemed hesitant. The Belinda I had met at the engagement part had flirted shamelessly, and seemed happy at the prospect of marrying into power. This version of her looked like she would rather bolt, than say “I do.”

When she finally reached the altar, I pulled the veil up for the traditional kiss, and again I found myself staring at a face that looked so familiar, yet felt foreign.

What was going on?

Her eyes were green as I remembered but they looked larger, and more vulnerable. They darted from my gaze, looking at anything but me. I expected my authority to humble her, but she projected the kind of fragile fear that made me want to console her.

“Belinda,” I said to be sure.

She nodded but didn’t speak. I noticed her pulse throbbing beneath her throat. I smiled. Somehow, I found that attractive. Fear rolled off her in waves, and despite myself, I was aroused. The predator in me responded to her fragility but there was also something else…something that made me want to protect.

Interesting.

Throughout Father DiMarco’s latin words, my eyes darted sideways to the woman beside me. Everything seemed wrong in her posture, in her breathing and in her slightly trembling hands as she held up her bouquet. It was like someone had taken Belinda Russo and replaced her with a more timid twin.

“Do you Kieran Alessandro Vescari take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Father DiMarco’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“I do,” I said automatically but my mind was racing. What game was the Russo’s playing? What had they done?

He turned to her. “And do you, Belinda Lucia Russo, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

I saw her swallow. For a heartbeat, she looked ready to run. “I do,” she whispered.

Liar. I thought angrily. But I was also intrigued. What desperation had made them think they could deceive me? There was something about her terror that I fund so appealing.

“You may kiss the bride.”

I stepped closer, cupping her smooth face. Her eyes widened with innocence. In that semi-second, I saw it all. The tell-tale signs of colored contacts, the little mole on top of her lips that was not there before, the deft In her lower lip.

Her lips parted slightly and I could feel her pulse hammering beneath my palms.

I leaned in.

When I claimed her supple mouth, the lie became irrelevant. Her lips were soft and hesitant beneath mine, nothing like Belinda’s stolen kiss at our engagement party. This woman kissed like she has not being thoroughly kissed by a man, and her innocence sent heat racing through my veins.

I should have been furious at the deception. I should have been planning punishments for the entire Russo family. Instead, when I pulled back, I was curious. I looked forward to unravelling this lie standing in front of me.

“Mine,” I whispered against her lips. Her breath caught in her throat. I smiled, pulling away from her.

Whatever game they were playing, I was going to enjoy winning it.

MELINDA

When I stepped into the Vescari’s ballroom, I was impressed by how huge it was. It was even bigger than my whole house put together. He slipped his hands into mine, and all the people in the room cheered as we walked in together. From the corner of my eye, I saw my dad nodding, pleased. I guess I did it. I was able to fool the most dangerous man in the city.

We sat on the head table, hundreds of eyes regarding us. I had to play my part well here. I had to act nothing like the nerves bubbling underneath my skin. Every few minutes, a terrifying man would come up to congratulate Kieran, and then they would kiss the back of my hand.

Their eyes always lingered a moment too long on my face, like they were looking for cracks in my façade.

But it was my husband who made my skin crawl with nerves. Throughout the dinner, Kieran played the perfect groom. He was attentive, charming, his hand possessive on my lower back as we stood for toasts. I didn’t expect such kindness from a man rumoured to be the most deadly in all of Vatican city. His eyes were on me every time, studying me in that calculating way I expected from him.

In front of all this people, under all this lights, it was just too much pressure and I lost my appetite.

“You are not eating,” he murmured, his fingers brushing my hands that rested on the table cloth.

I jerked, as I forced myself to look up at him. “I’m not very hungry.”

“Strange. Your sister always had such an enthusiastic appetite.”

His words hit me like ice water. Not ‘You always had…’ but ‘your sister always had…”

I knew he was smart enough to figure that something was wrong, and this could be a test.

I kept the panic off my face, and made sure my breath was even as I replied. “Did I? I don’t remember you paying attention to my eating habits at our engagement party.” What would Belinda do in this situation? She would sit up straighter and not slouch.

He sat back in his chair, as approval flickered across his features. “Perhaps, I was distracted by other attributes.”

Before I could figure out what that meant, the live band started playing. This was going to be our first dance. He took my hands and led me to the dance floor. The dance floor cleared and suddenly we were alone, under the stare of hundreds of eyes. His arm slid around my waist, and he drew me closer to him so much that I could smell his Arabian oud.

“You dance well,” he said in my ear, as we swayed to the melody. “Though not quite as I expected. It’s said that you are an excellent dancer.”

Another test. “People change.” I managed to say.

“So tell me,” he continued. “What else has changed since we last met?”

“Marriage changes everything.” I stumbled and his grip steadied me, bringing me closer to him till there was no space between us.

“It certainly does.” His eyes never left mine as we moved together on the dance floor. “For example, I find myself married to a woman who flinches when I touch her, who barely eats, who dances like she has never been in a man’s arms before.”

Because I haven’t. I thought desperately. Not like this. Not with someone who can kill me with his bare hands.

“Kieran, I---"

“And most importantly,” he cut me off. “a woman who looks like I’m going to eat her alive, when the Belinda Russo I remember was never afraid of anything.”

The song ended but he didn’t release me, we stood facing each other, his gray eyes boring themselves into my soul. I wondered how he knew so much of my sister, from that brief time they spent together. This is it My thought spiralled. He’s going to expose me here, right in front of anyone and me and my parents are going to die.

Then the spell broke as the audience started clapping, and he took a step back with an unreadable smile. “Time to cut the cake darling.” I nodded, tensed. Just as we cut the cake and everybody cheered, a woman walked in. she had the grace of a peacock and she went around, greeting everybody politely.

My heart thudded in my chest. She was not supposed to be here.

Verena Falcone. Kieran’s ex-lover, and Belinda’s former best friend.

The woman who knew exactly who was supposed to be wearing this wedding dress.