Cruel Saints: Chapter 19

My wife.

God, she’s beautiful.

I can’t keep my eyes off Elena and only listen with half an ear as Judge Fico rambles on about the new yacht he bought.

She’s a vision in the wedding dress where she’s standing next to Aunt Ursula. They’re talking to a group of wives from the most prominent families in Italy.

“Excuse me,” I say, and then I walk to Elena. Touching her elbow, I get her attention, and then I ask the other women, “May I steal my wife for a dance?”

The women all swoon as I tug Elena away from them. I move my hand down to hers and linking our fingers, I lead her to the dance floor that’s been set up on the other side of the fountain.

A song with a beat is playing, and not caring, I pull Elena into my arms. I ignore the beat and instead focus on the female vocals. My hands brush over her back, and I savor the feel of her smooth skin.

The dress she’s wearing is sexy as fuck, the back exposed all the way to her lower back. The possessive side of me wants to shrug off my jacket and cover her so no other man can see, but I suppress the urge.

Elena places her hands on my shoulders, and her eyes only meet mine for a second before she glances at the fountain.

“Look at me,” I murmur. When her gaze locks with mine, my lips curve up. “That’s better.”

The current song fades away, and then an alternate version of Take Me To Church begins to play.

I pull Elena tightly against me, and moving a hand behind her head, I press my forehead against hers. I feel her exhale on my lips, and my fingers curl into her silky hair.

Slowly, I tilt my head, and I let my mouth brush against the corner of her mouth. We’re breathing the same air as I whisper, “Move your hands behind my neck.”

Elena does as I ask, and feeling her fingers on my skin makes streaks of heat flash through my body.

Not caring that we’re surrounded by family and business associates, I nip at her lips. Elena closes her eyes, and then I claim her mouth. I’ve been slowly dying from not taking what I wanted this past week.

I gave her time to settle in, to get used to the idea of us.

No more.

My tongue sweeps into her mouth, and then I devour her. I memorize the sweet taste of her tongue.

I lift both my hands, and framing her face, I keep her in place as my hunger grows.

My tongue strokes hard over hers, branding her mine.

My teeth tug at her lips, claiming her.

My lips savor Elena’s, knowing I’ll never taste anything as good as her again.

Elena’s fingers tangle with my hair at the nape of my neck, and then she begins to kiss me back.

Fireworks explode above us, and the guests begin to cheer, and I couldn’t care less.

This moment.

Kissing my wife.

It’s all that matters.

A moan drifts from Elena, and I drink it like a man dying of thirst.

Christ, I want more of those moans.

We’ve passed decent, and we’re well on our way to filthy by the time I force myself to end the kiss. I nip one more time at her swollen lips, and then we breathlessly stare at each other.

This time there’s no horror to chase the excitement from Elena’s cheeks. She doesn’t run from me, and all hell doesn’t break loose. Instead, Elena stares at me with wonder as if I performed some miracle.

We just look at each other as the music continues to play. The guests continue to enjoy the reception. The fireworks fade into the night.

Everything in me wants to drag her to our bed so I can spend the rest of the night claiming her body, but knowing it’s too soon for her, I take a step back. “Thank you for the dance.”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles, still staring at me with the same look of wonder on her face.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to send everyone home and drag you to bed,” I warn her.

It snaps her out of the trance, and frowning at me, she mutters, “Then don’t kiss me like that.”

I let out a chuckle. “Not a chance.”

As I take hold of her hand, I don’t miss the smile tugging at her lips. I lead her back to Aunt Ursula’s side and leave her in the safety of my aunt’s company while I attend to some of the guests.

As I take a glass of champagne from a server’s platter, Alexei comes to stand next to me. His eyes scan over my face then he smiles. “You look happy, my friend.”

“Considering all the shit we’re dealing with, I am.” I take a sip of the bubbly drink. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He nods, then Demitri comes to murmur something to him. Alexei’s eyes snap to mine, then he mutters, “We have to leave. You understand?”

“Of course.” I hold out my hand to him. “Thank you for being my best man.”

I get a smile from him before he and Demitri walk to the veranda. When I glance back to the guests, it’s to see Tino walking toward me.

Fuck. I hated having him and Dante here today.

“Son,” Tino taunts me.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I growl at him, instantly pissed off.

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, we stare at each other. The air begins to crackle with tension.

“Any news?” he finally asks.

“No.” Even if I had news, I wouldn’t share it with him.

A sneer begins to tug at his lips, then he mutters, “Enjoy my daughter.”

I clench my jaw and watch him with unadulterated hatred as he walks away from me.

Needing to calm down, I glance to where the women are, and only seeing Aunt Ursula, I set the glass down on the nearest table and walk to her.

“Where’s Elena?” I ask when I reach my aunt.

She smiles brightly at me. “She’s just changing dresses. Leo’s with her.”

I instantly relax, knowing Elena has a guard with her.

My aunt wraps her arm around my waist. “Are you enjoying your night?”

A smile forms around my mouth as I place my arm around her shoulders. I give her a sideways hug. “I am. Thank you for the beautiful reception.”

“You’re welcome, but next time you plan a function, give me more time.”

I let out a chuckle. “I will.” Seeing how happy my aunt is, I ask, “You’re still moving in, right?”

She nods. “Your wife already gave her permission, so you can’t change your mind now. We’ll bring all my belongings over tomorrow.”

My smile grows. “I’m glad to hear that. It warms my heart that you and Elena get along.”

Something catches my attention, and I glance back at the house. My eyes scan over all the guests, the guards, Tino, and then my smile fades. There’s no sign of Dante.

“Excuse me,” I murmur to my aunt, and then I walk toward the sliding doors. My stomach tightens, and sensing something is very wrong, I break out into a run.

ELENA

“Congratulations, Mrs. Cotroni,” Leo says as he follows me to my room.

I glance at him from over my shoulder. “Thank you.” Opening the door to my room, I say, “I’ll just be a minute.”

Leo nods at me and takes his position next to the door as I shut it.

The wedding dress is beautiful, but I need to change into something that doesn’t weigh more than me. Luckily, Aunt Ursula planned ahead, and I have a white cocktail dress waiting.

I’ve been trying to prepare myself for later tonight, unable to think of anything else but Lucian and I consummating our marriage.

Nerves spin in my stomach, but after the kiss that left me breathless, I have to admit the thought isn’t as daunting anymore. Maybe, just maybe, it will be the same as when Lucian kisses me.

Taking hold of the silk straps over my shoulders, I pull them down, and then the weight of all the fabric drops to the floor.

Standing in only a backless lace bodysuit, I reach for the cocktail dress. Slipping it off the hanger, the door to my room bursts open. My head snaps in that direction, and then I go ice cold.

Leo’s lying on the floor, a crimson stain forming on his white button-up shirt as Dante comes in. He slams the door shut and then levels me with a cruel glare. His right hand is gripping a gun with a silencer on, which is why I didn’t hear the shot.

Shock stuns me as my lips part. It’s only for a second that we stare at each other.

Horror pours in.

Dread creeps over my skin.

Desperation shudders through me.

I clasp the cocktail dress to my front, and faced with the devil, it brings back awful memories of when we were in a similar position.

I dart toward the bathroom. Not that there’s anywhere to escape to, but it might buy me time.

Dante grabs hold of my hair in a brutal grip, and strands are painfully yanked out. I let out a scream as I fall back against him. His rank breath instantly coats the skin on my neck and ear, erasing the bliss that still lingered from Lucian’s kiss.

Fight, Elena. God, you have to fight harder than ever.

I slam my elbow back against his ribs, but a layer of fat protects him. I begin to struggle, my breaths rushing over my lips and my heart slamming against my chest.

Needing both my hands, I let go of the cocktail dress. I somehow manage to head butt Dante against the nose, and his hand frees my hair. I dart forward, but then his body plows into mine, and I crash to the floor with his full weight on top of me.

“Get off!” I scream. It feels as if I’m being possessed by a devil of my own.

Dante easily flips me over onto my back, and then the gun slams against my left cheek. Lights explode behind my vision. Intense pain fills the entire left side of my face. I slip in and out of consciousness, my limbs heavy.

Dante claws at the bodysuit, and I feel it rip.

Darkness swirls around me, threatening to drag me to the depths of hell.

My soul shrinks as my worst fear looms over me.

I hear a roar of anger, and then Dante’s weight disappears off me.

Blinking against the shock from the punch, my vision comes back, and strength returns to my body. I manage to pull myself up and leaning back against the bathtub, I watch as Lucian kicks the gun away. He crouches over Dante, slamming one fist after the other into his face.

I’ve never seen Lucian so angry, his features cut from rage and vengeance as he beats Dante into a bloody mess.

Even though it’s one of the most savage things I’ve ever seen, I can’t look away. Time slows down. I hold my breath. I don’t even blink, not wanting to miss a second.

Dante’s grunts grow weaker, and then Lucian wraps his hands around Dante’s neck.

Instead of horror, calm trickles through me as I watch Dante gasp for air.

Just like I did.

Dante bleeds.

Like I’ve bled many times at his hands.

His face distorts with panic, his tongue curling in his mouth as he makes gurgling sounds.

Die.

Please. Just. Die.

Years of abuse flashes between Dante and me. The shame. The disgust. The pain.

And then Lucian severs the link, strangling the last air from Dante.

Dante makes one last gargled sound, and then he stills. His eyes are wide open. His face covered in blood. His mouth left gaping for the last gasp of air Lucian refused to give him.

He’s dead.

My heart beats violently in my chest, and then a relieved sob bursts from me.

Lucian climbs to his feet, and I watch as he rinses the blood from his hands. “Remove this piece of shit from my house,” he barks, and it’s only then I see Franco and Matteo.

They don’t look at me as they pick up Dante’s body, and when they carry him away, only blood remains on the tiles where he died.

Using the tub, I pull myself up on trembling legs.

Lucian shrugs out of his jacket, and then he comes to wrap it around my shoulders. His arms slip under me, and I’m lifted to his chest.

There’s zero hesitation as I wrap my arms around his neck. I bury my face against him while my relief washes the horror away.

Lucian carries me to another room. He takes a seat on the bed, and then he holds me so tightly it borders on painful.

I hear him take deep breaths. I feel his body shudder against mine with residual anger.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice raw with emotion.

Lucian kept his promise.

He killed Dante for me.

A calm feeling washes over me, and I hold my husband tighter.

It’s only then I realize I’ve found the freedom I’ve been fighting so hard for.

I’m finally free from Dante.

I’m free.