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The only place he was truly loved was our home, where my mother was the one to be feared, and my brother and I adored our Papa.
I will wear blood on my hands proudly for as long as you wear that ring on your finger.”
The things you didn’t share defined you. Your secrets shaped you. And when you shared them, it was akin to carving out the most rotten and sour parts of yourself and placing them on a platter.
“I wanted money, it was that simple. People who talk about money not buying happiness are always born rich. Money buys everything. Safety. Sustenance. Shelter. Those are all things we need to be happy.
“Then,” he said, slipping his finger inside. “I’ll fuck it. Because despite what you think, Sienna. There is one man on this earth who can own you.”
My eyes went to the end of the aisle, to the man standing there in black, waiting for me. The mafia Don. The criminal. The monster. My husband.
