Chapter three- Sebastian

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Your lips,
My lips,
Apocalypse
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"You may now kiss the bride."

I spent the last six days in a constant state of near panic. Obsessing over every little detail of the wedding even though Dante told me not to interfere with the preparations. Apparently it was all being handled and I wasn't allowed to ask questions. So instead, I went back and forth between driving myself crazy by imagining everything that could go wrong and hoping that somehow by some miracle, the wedding would be canceled. Or my father would jump up in the middle of the ceremony and yell, 'April fools, sucker!' - even though it's November.

But that didn't happen.

Three days ago, there was a knock on my dorm room - that I share with my only friend, Cole, in college - and it was three big muscular guys who were sent to move my stuff into Eva's house. I, of course, had no say in the matter. If Ms. Alekseeva ordered me moved, I was going to be moved.

Cole freaked out when I told him I was getting married - and I had Dante call me to talk to Cole and actually convince him that I wasn't fucking with him, as he put it so nicely. It also meant that I had to tell my best friend that I had been hiding who I was from him for two years. He freaked out again when I said I was Giovanni Ricci's younger son. Luckily, I didn't have to tell him who my father was because his reputation precedes him. Silver linings, you know?

But Cole being the amazing friend he is, still came to my wedding today. I told him he didn't have to but he said he had my back and not to worry about it. And he also said being in a mafia wedding had always been in his bucket list. What has to go through a person's mind to have that in your list of things you want to do before you die?

I'm grateful for him though, he kept me from freaking out twice already and if it wasn't for him, I would have probably run away till now.

I was restless and nervous energy were coursing through my whole body up until the second I saw her coming down the aisle. Then my whole body locked up. But not in fear. I was simply in... awe. She was - is - the most stunning woman I have ever seen. In a simple but gorgeous white dress that clings to her small breasts and hips and trailed after her. However, the dress has a leg slit that exposes her long smooth pale legs and ends mid thigh. She is tall and thin with a tiny waist but has curves where it counts.

She was beautiful, of course, but it wasn't that about her that drew me in. It was her walk, her talk, her intense glances, and the way she held herself. She had that way about her that when she talked, everyone just listened. She demanded attention without even trying and she got it. And her eyes... god! They were always full of dirty dangerous promises when she set them on me. And I wanted her to do it. I wanted her to do every depraved shameful act to me that she could come up with.

I was in a daze. Said 'I do' in a daze. Listened to the wedding officiant in a daze. Until...

"You may now kiss the bride."

That snapped me out of whatever voodoo magic she had put me under with her cold grey eyes.

I'm married. Crappity crap! I'm married.

When my mind chose that moment to remind me of that fun little fact, I had to suppress a very hysterical laugh crawling up my throat that would have probably turned into a sob.

I swallow harshly and look around the room in a panic. They are all waiting for me to kiss her. Like a man does her wife. Except I wasn't a man, like my father loved to remind me of. And she wasn't my wife technically, like she pointed out so unnecessarily harshly. I was a little boy that screwed everything up.

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