His Virgin Queen - MINK Page 0,2

“You sound like Mom.”

I glance away from Marco and swallow the lump in my throat. I won’t show him that I’m scared for today.

He favors our mother more than our father, but he has that Scalingi blood in his veins too. He can be reckless, and that’s the last thing I want today. If he lets his emotions get the best of him, he puts his life on the line. I think my mom got reckless. Maybe she tried to run. Only God knows what really happened, but I can’t risk something happening to Marco. Neither of us has the luxury of following our heart.

“Did you get them for me?” I ask, changing the subject. This wedding is happening no matter what. There’s no sense in dwelling on it now. The deed is pretty much done. “Marco, please tell me you got what I need.”

“You make me feel like a drug dealer.” He pulls out a bag and hands it to me.

“Pretty sure our whole family is a bunch of drug dealers,” I half joke as I snatch the bag from him.

“Still fucking weird getting my sister birth control pills.”

I don’t disagree, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do. I’m not going to be bringing a baby into this world. When I found out I was being married off, I’d immediately gone to my brother about getting them. He didn't ask why. He knew. He understood, and then he got the pills for me despite the risk.

He leans down, kissing me on the forehead. “It’s just so fucking wrong, Soph.”

“I know.” I let my eyes water for only a moment, then straighten my spine. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’m getting married, and it is what it is.”

“Antonio is a piece of shit,” Marco mumbles.

I don't know a ton about my groom. What I do know, I don’t like. My father did a good job of hiding me away after my mom went missing. I only heard bits and pieces about the Tuscani boss, along with the things my brother would share with me.

Marco is tough, but he hurts just like I do. He lost her the same as I did, and now he’s a boy who’s more a man than he should be. I want to tell all of them--my father, grandfather, and my groom--that they are all pieces of shit, but I let it go like he needs to do.

“Let it go,” I whisper, then clear my throat. “Go. I have to get ready.” I push him toward the door. “See you at the church.” Again I force a smile. He doesn't. He lets his anger show. That’s dangerous.

“Get it together,” I snip at him.

“There you go. Sounding like Mom again.”

This time my smile isn't fake. I’ll take all of my mom I can get today. I’m going to need her.

2

Nick

She sits with her head down, the gauzy veil still covering her dark hair.

I holster my pistol and adjust my suit coat.

She doesn’t look up.

Not when I walked into the room.

Not when I fired the shot that killed her new husband.

Not even when he fell face-first into his salad course.

She still sits there now as I walk around the table to her.

Her wedding was beautiful. No one could argue that. I sat in the back row and watched as the young, dark-haired bride walked uncertainly down the aisle. The cathedral was full, every higher-up in the seven families in attendance.

She did as all good mafia daughters do--gave her word to love and cherish the piece of shit whose blood now stains the carpet.

But I digress. The wedding. It was smaller than usual, but still an overdone affair. As the head of the Davinci family, I was expected to attend. So I did.

What I didn’t expect was the double-cross that happened.

But now it’s taken care of. I glance at Antonio’s shattered skull and smirk. Now, there are only six families.

I will take all of Antonio Tuscani’s men as my own, execute the disloyal ones, and continue on with business as usual. If the other families take issue with my actions, they are welcome to address it at the next meeting.

Until then, I am the god of the Tuscani family, and, as an extension, of the young bride whose husband I just murdered.

“Just do it.” Her voice is so still, like the surface of a cold, dark lake.

I stand behind her, my gaze straying down the perfect cascade of her rich hair, the slope of her