Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Fifteen

Niko

I can't help but study this version of Bianca as the man of the church stands in front of us, speaking nonsense. Not a word goes in because I'm not listening, not deeply enough to take in any of his chanting at face value. 

She stands beside me, unsure of herself yet more beautiful than I've ever seen her.

Her makeup is barely there, just eyeliner and mascara drawing my attention to her eyes' deep, earthy hues. Her cheeks seem somewhat higher than usual, and her lips are pale pink, which complements the only evidence of a blush on the tip of her nose.

The man before us drones on, and I grit my teeth, not caring to listen, as I watch Bianca breathe. Her chest rises and falls in rapid breaths, all while she looks at him unwaveringly. Until she doesn't, until her eyes swing to me, her face staying in the position of looking forward. In that brief moment, I see longing—the longing to escape, the need to be gone from here.

I wish I could speed this up in an instant. Neither of us cares for any of these dramatics, and neither of us wants to be standing here before the heads of families that we work alongside.

So I do the only thing I think I can: I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers through her very cold ones. She stiffens, her whole body becoming rigid, but she says nothing and doesn't try to get away either.

Turning my head back to the man in front of us, he smiles warmly before asking us to stand opposite one another.

"It's now time for the commitment ceremony," he announces.

I turn Bianca by the hand I'm holding onto, making her break her stoicism to face me, her gaze picking four spots on my chest before she attempts to make eye contact.

"Niko, pronounce after me," the man, whose name I've yet to uncover, demands. His request is unnerving: How did we get here so fast? Isn't there a long script they talk out before we get to the nitty-gritty? Surely I haven't been zoned out for that long? "I, Nikolas Costa, take you, Bianca Rossi, to be my lawfully wedded wife."

"I, Niko Costa, take you, Bianca Rossi, to be my lawfully wedded wife." I mimic him, minus the first-given name, which I hate.

"From this day forward, in sickness and in health, until death, do us part." I mimic him again, squeezing Bianca's hands as they shake in my hands. Her gaze flickers from somewhere on my chest to my face, and I see the panic set in with the last word.

"Bianca, repeat after me." She jumps at her name, swallowing deeply as the man beside us demands she do the same as I just did.

"I, Bianca Rossi, take you, Nikolas Costa, to be my lawfully wedded husband—" her words die, mid-word husband, her eyes glazing over with a tear balling in the corner of her eye. "From this day forward, until death...do us part," She promises. Her fingers cross on her right hand, the hand hanging down her dress. I'd laugh if the notion of crossing one's fingers during their own wedding ceremony didn't scream that she definitely didn't want to be standing opposite me.

"The rings?" Luca comes up beside us, offering the pillow in which the rings have sat on for the whole morning. Shaking my head, I reach inside my jacket to fish out the rings I brought explicitly for Bianca.

She frowns as I produce the box, flipping it open to reach inside.

"Please say your vows as you place them on," the man beside me encourages.

"With these rings, I promise an eternal ring of acceptance. I promise to protect you for the rest of our lives, to love and cherish you. To be your equal in all that we do," I murmur, probably only loud enough for the four of us standing up here on the small stage. "For as long as we both shall live."