Alexius: A Dark Mafia Romance (Dark Sovereign Book 1)
Alexius: Chapter 10

I thought I was no stranger to fear. The walks home from the diner after dark. The moment right before I unlock the apartment door, not sure if I’d replace my mother alive or dead. The fear of him coming back one day, wanting to punish me for what I did. Just like my mother did, he blames me, too. He said so himself the day he got his ass dragged from our apartment.

“You ungrateful little brat! You piece of motherfucking shit! This is your fault. Your goddamn fault.”

Then there was the fear of waking up one morning realizing I’d rather be dead than spend another miserable day on this goddamn Earth.

But I have never experienced fear, dread, uncertainty the way I do now, staring at the man I’m about to take as my husband before God. A man who masked himself as a savior with his mutually beneficial offer only to have the gleam of the devil in his eyes a few moments ago.

It’s a different kind of fear. A fear that doesn’t cripple, but rather pricks into your skin over and over again. And even though you know this fear will end up making a hole in your flesh as it carves into your skin, it challenges you to see how deep it could make this gaping hole before you scream and surrender to it.

My fingers clutch the lily bouquet tighter, and I take a deep breath. Every girl dreams about getting married, about that perfect dress, and the lavish ceremony with romance drifting in the air fused with the hopes and dreams of a happy life. It’s the one day when your happiness trumps the joy of everyone sitting in their seats watching you take one step after the other toward a future filled with color.

In typical fashion of life throwing me every goddamn curveball imaginable to mankind, here I am, a bride standing in a dress I didn’t choose myself, with a groom I didn’t choose either. For me, right at this moment, that’s not even the worst part. As I stand by the edge of the white carpet, every eye in the crowd fixed on me, the tenor of the cello rustling through the tree branches with its beautiful melody, it’s not Alexius’ threat that clings to my shoulders. It’s loneliness.

I’m facing all these strangers…alone.

There’s no one next to me to offer a smile of encouragement and to walk me down the aisle to give me away. I’m all. Alone.

It’s one of the most beautiful pictures in a little girl’s wedding dreams—her father walking her down the aisle, lifting her veil and kissing her cheek before handing her over to her new husband. A symbolic act of a father entrusting his daughter to the man who would vow to love her forever.

But I’m no fool. I know none of this is real. And even if it was, my father still wouldn’t walk me down the aisle. Not unless pigs fly and hell freezes over.

My mom’s dead, and I have no one else. Not even a best friend. I’m completely alone in this big, crazy fucking world, and I’m moments away from stepping into a den of wolves by saying two simple words.

I do.

The urge to cry is overwhelming, and I swallow hard, looking up at the clear skies and silently praying for God to give me the strength to get through what comes next. To help me cross this carpet without falling.

“May I?”

Startled, I look at Isaia holding out his elbow for me to take. His expression is soft and eyes kind, the dark coffee color of his irises a clashing hue to Alexius’ blue. “No bride should walk down the aisle alone.”

A tear threatens to slip free, but I choke it back as I mouth the words, ‘Thank you.’ Gratitude gifts me a fragment of courage as I hook my wrist into his elbow, the smooth fabric of his suit brushing my skin.

“Just put one foot in front of the other, and we’ll be there in no time.” His words are the encouragement I need, and my chest tightens at his kindness.

My legs go weak while taking my first step, but I manage to move forward without falling flat on my face or running the other way.

The stares and gazes of guests slither with discomfort across my skin, and it’s a struggle to take a single breath. My gaze falls to the ground because my first instinct is to look away from the crowd as if it’s possible to make them disappear that way. But Isaia gently squeezes my hand, a subtle reminder for me to look up and not cower.

We reach the front, the gentle sunrays scattering lights from the crystal chandelier above us. I’m convinced I held my breath the entire way, my head dizzy and heart pulsing.

Alexius steps up, and I let go of Isaia’s elbow. “Thank you.” I smile, and Isaia merely nods before taking his place next to Caelian.

I look down at Alexius’ hand and place my palm in his. Its warmth startles me, half expecting it to be as cold as his gaze. As always, his expression tells me nothing, his eyes showing no emotion. But their brilliance does something to me, and I replace myself wishing he wasn’t so cruel, that he was a good man whose heart could be as easy to love as his fine features and strikingly good looks.

We turn to face the priest, and my heart is racing so fast, so loud, thundering inside my head, drowning out the priest’s words. The longer I stand there, sweat trickling down my spine, the dizzier I get. My throat is dry, and I’m swallowing sand while wishing for this all to be over.

“Marriage is a gift in that we give ourselves totally to one another.” The priest’s words slowly trickle through the haze in my mind, not that I’m capable of forming a single coherent thought. “Marriage is a gift given to comfort the sorrows of life and to magnify life’s joys.”

I want to open my mouth and tell him that this is all bullshit, that no gifts are being given here today. Not a single one.

“Please face each other.”

My stomach turns as I look up and into Alexius’ eyes. Through the knots in my stomach and the haze in my mind, I still see the magic in their color, the way the sun touches the deep blue tones creates a reflection so often seen when light kisses water. The longer I stare into them, the tighter I’m trapped by their enchantment, and for a single moment I’m able to pretend that this is all real.

“Now repeat after me. I, Alexius Del Rossa, take you, Leandra Rose Dinali to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”

I’m not sure if it’s the romance in the air, the bright sky above us, or just plain stupidity, but with every word Alexius speaks, I fall deeper into the depths of his eyes. He holds me captivated, and I can’t look away, even with the heaviness weighing down on my shoulders with the fear he so expertly lights inside me. The longer our gazes are locked, and I listen to him say his vows, the more I’m sucked into the ruse.

“Repeat after me,” the priest says, and only then do I notice that he’s looking at me. My legs weaken, and I lick my lips, my throat parched. “I, Leandra Rose Dinali, take you, Alexius Del Rossa to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health—” My voice cracks, the last few words burning the inside of my mouth as reality trickles in. “Um…” I close my eyes and sever the spell that held me captive with a bewitching blue tether. “In…um…in sickness and in health, I promise to—” I suck in a breath. “Love and cherish you.”

The lies leave a bitter taste on my tongue, the priest’s godly presence penetrating my conscience and feeding the guilt that comes with our deception.

The priest nods as he bears witness to this charade. “By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He smiles. “You may kiss the bride.”

Five words.

Five innocent fucking words, and everything around us blew up. I’ve been thinking about this wedding for the last three days, trying to prepare myself mentally for what’s to come. But not once did I think about the best part of a wedding ceremony. The part where the groom kisses his bride. The part where we seal our newly blessed union in front of family, friends, and God.

Alexius steps closer, my heart thumping wildly as he gains the few inches of space between us. His broad shoulders and tall form cast a shadow over me, the sun edging his silhouette with gold. I’m barred in place, unable to move or even think as his gaze drops to my lips, dark brows curved slightly. I hold my breath, not knowing what to expect as seconds turn into eons, time frozen like the iced orbs of his eyes. With a gentle touch of his hand, he lifts my chin as he leans down, licking his lips and leaving behind a bewitching sheen that heightens the anticipation that suddenly blooms inside my belly.

I know he’s not a good man. I’ve seen a glimpse of his cruelty. Yet I crave to taste his kiss, momentarily unable to care about the devil’s deal that has me bound and shackled.

I close my eyes as he brushes his thumb along the outer curve of my bottom lip, my skin heated and sensitive to his touch while his scent of wild spice traps me in a moment where no reality exists.

His mouth touches mine so gently, softly, with a delicate kiss that feels more like a brush of air than a fusion of lips. Heat ripples through my chest and down my spine, and I suck in a breath right before he presses harder, his tongue stroking along the crease where my lips meet. I offer no resistance as he beckons me to open for him, parting my lips and letting him in. I’m not prepared for his taste, his tongue easing against mine numbing my insides yet setting my body on fire. It’s like the calm and the storm collided deep within me, a settled chaos erupting in my veins through one simple kiss.

It doesn’t feel wrong and tainted as I expected it to. Instead, it’s as if we had been doing it our entire lives. Familiar. Warm. Right.

But verity crashes into me the moment he tears his lips from mine, replacing the warmth of his kiss with the cold bite of reality. It takes me a second to get my feet back on the ground, and to slip on the mask of indifference as our gazes lock.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Del Rossa.”

Cheers erupt, with whistles and clapping of hands. My mind is still reeling from our kiss when Alexius takes my hand and waves to the crowd of guests—thousands of pieces of glittered confetti being thrown in the air as we walk down the aisle as husband and wife…

For six months.