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486 Words
Vincent
"Are you ready? We're crashing a wedding," I said with a grin on my face. Excitement surged through me as we approached our target.
Marco sighed, checking his gun carefully before putting it away. "As ready as I'll ever be for this madness."
"Genius and insanity often go together. Both have driven the greatest events in human history."
"You annoy me the most when you act like Miguel. I can't believe I'm just a few miles from my father, unable to confront him."
"You'll get him. My plan will lead him to you eventually."
"I don't like the 'eventually' part. I sense this plan goes beyond killing my father and punishing the Golden Gate."
Leaning back against the car seat, I asked, "And what would that be?"
Marco met my gaze. "It's about you wanting Nick's niece for some insane reason."
A dark smile played on my lips. "You know exactly why I want her."
Marco leaned back, his expression tightening. "I don't think even you know exactly why. But I do know the girl will pay for something she wasn't responsible for."
"She's part of our world, bred to be a mother to more Golden Gate bastards, raised to obey like a mindless sheep. She followed her shepherd toward a pack of wolves. His mistake, but she will be torn apart."
"Vincent, you're crazy."
I gripped his forearm, fingers tightening over his Pinecrest Carte tattoo—the blade and the eye. "You are one of us. We bleed and die together. We maim and kill together. Don't forget your oath."
"I won't," he said simply. I released him, my eyes shifting to the front of the hotel.
Antonella's parents, Rosa and Salvatore Lombardi, emerged with a young dark-haired girl. Rosa, dressed for the wedding, resembled her brother—tall, blond, and proud.
"It won't be long now," I said, eyeing the waiting car down the street.
Marco started the car as we observed the Lombardis driving away. "Her twin will stay with her. And then there's the bodyguard."
My eyes found the middle-aged man in the Bentley limousine, a flower arrangement on the hood. White flowers. I wanted to crush them under my boots.
"They're making it too easy to identify the bride's car," I chuckled.
"Because they don't expect an attack. It's never been done before. Funerals and weddings are sacred."
"There have been bloody weddings before. They should know better."
"But those weddings turned bloody due to guest fights. I don't think anyone has purposely attacked a wedding, especially the bride. Honor forbids it."
"We are the Pinecrest Carte. We have our own rules, our own idea of honor."
"I think they'll realize that today," Marco said tightly.
My gaze scanned the hotel's front. Behind its windows, Antonella prepared for her wedding—an apparition in white. I couldn't wait to get my hands on her, staining the pristine white fabric blood-red.
- Writer
