KillianI held Sera close and danced through the garden of the house I’d grown up in, tracing steps I’d learned ages ago watching my mother and father. The strains of the last song colored the night air, something bittersweet I’d picked out. Just one more chorus, and I’d whisk her away. Just like that first night, except she was just as desperate to leave with me. I memorized every element of her face. The soft pink lipstick she’d picked because it promised to be kiss-proof, dulled in the middle and smeared outside her lips. The locks of soft brown hair tumbling out of her updo. The tantalizingly short hem of her reception dress that she kept smacking my hands away from, reminding me I’d promised to wait until the wedding ended.“I love you,” I said.She laughed. “I love you, too.”Our friends swirled around us, planets in orbit telling the story of our time together. Patrick, red-faced, held a grinning Olivia. As much as he struggled, I didn’t doubt he’d find the courage in him to ma
TommasoAfter Killian and Sera left, I expected we’d say a few goodbyes and head out. I’d sort of planned on it, actually. But instead, Paige sat down at the head table with Lauren and a couple of the bridesmaids. The bar closed, and the band left, but someone started playing music from a speaker, and champagne appeared from somewhere. The reception quickly started turning into an after-party.I paced back and forth on the edge of the dance floor and tried not to be a dick. Paige was smiling. She was clearly having a great time, and whatever she was saying made her little audience crack up. But fuck, it wasn’t that unfair to expect a party to end when it ended instead of dribbling into another party, was it? I checked my watch for the umpteenth time and looked at her again.She caught my gaze. The smile on her face evaporated. Fuck. She said something to the people around her, then strode through the remains of the reception over to me.“What’s your deal?” she demanded.I swallowed an
SeraI blinked awake in my airplane seat and found Killian still dozing next to me. He’d sworn up and down he didn’t need comfortable clothes for the flight, that he was used to flying in a suit, but I’d made the right call forcing him to change. The T-shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of his toned stomach, and the thin shorts left little to the imagination. Desire stirred within me. I’d wanted to wait until our proper honeymoon, our new life together, started. I’d wanted to christen the villa with our first married sex. I glanced out the window and saw nothing but dark water. We’d left America.Our honeymoon had definitely started by now.I ran my hand over Killian through his shorts, and his eyes opened almost immediately.“I thought we were waiting.”I smiled playfully. “I’m done waiting.”He growled and stood then lifted me out of my seat and carried me to the bedroom at the back of the plane without another word. I craned my neck to kiss him, and he didn’t even pause. The door sli
PaigeI floated back to consciousness and the definite feeling I was moving. My head ached. I was warm, and a little sticky, and the goddamn zipper still dug into my side. I remembered the bouquet, Tom’s smile, and then…nothing.“Why the hell is the world moving?” I groaned with my eyes still closed.Tom chuckled from nearby. “We’re on the jet.”“What?” I shot up and opened my eyes, then winced. Headrush. We were definitely on the jet, though. Plush leather seats, seatbelts, overhead compartments. But the night sky outside didn’t give me any further details.Tom rubbed my back. “I brought spare clothes for you if you want to change. And there’s coffee. We’re landing before too long now.”“Where the hell are we going?” I demanded. “I can’t remember.”He smiled indulgently. “You can’t remember because I’m not telling you.”My mouth fell open. “Why not?”“It’s a surprise.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’d say you agreed to stop asking, but I don’t think you’d believe that.”“Damn r
SeraJim Harrison. Tall, blond hair, big baby blue eyes. And dimples that showed off every time he flashed his dashing white smile. Everything about him screamed American Dream—broad shoulders and a finely defined jaw, well-fitting Levi jeans, and the kind of face that made me envision a life where we got married, bought a condo in Jersey, and adopted a Golden Retriever named Buddy. Jim would train him to heel, sit, and stay. I’d let him sleep at the foot of the bed. We’d argue about it, but Jim would eventually forfeit and lose a quarter of his half of the bed. Buddy deserved the best. I’d been crushing on Jim on and off for the better part of a year, but so had every single other teacher in the Ardmore, Pennsylvania district. Yet, somehow, on a sunny Thursday afternoon in October, Jim walked me out to my car after our students left for the day and started flirting with me. Reality turned to sand, running between my fingers.Finally.“Sera?” He laughed, waving a hand in front of my
SeraBreathe Sera.Fingers fisted my hair and pulled upward, forcing me to look up at the man who’d just pulled a bag from over my head. He wore a suit and mask, both so black in color they seemed to suck the light right out of the room. There were no designs on the full-faced mask. It was just a void, a black hole, a vacant space where his face should have been. His hands were bare, and in the light of a huge crystal chandelier above our heads I caught the glint of the gold ring he wore on his right ring finger.I sucked in my breath as my focus locked on the ring and the insignia woven across the golden band.Il mio sangue scorre per la famiglia.My blood runs for the family.The Marino family motto.Hot, uncontrollable tears blurred my vision as my body trembled with terror. I stole a glance around the room, seeing nothing but gold trim and gilded wallpaper that brought a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. I knew where I was. I knew this place. Worst of all, I knew what was rumored to
KillianIt’d been years since I last stepped foot in Sala delle Rose, the grotesquely enormous mansion situated on the Jersey coast. I avoided this place if I could help it. Grecian columns lined a long foyer as I walked toward the ballroom. Yes, a fucking ballroom. Riccardo Marino’s grandfather had built this place back in the early nineteen thirties and had apparently thought of everything when it came to what his descendants might get up to when he was six feet under and nothing but a mural on the wall.The Marinos were once the family—the ones calling the shots and ruling over practically the entire east coast. But Riccardo’s rise to power some thirty years ago saw the end of their reign. Now, the man threw his fancy parties and sat on his throne, which was exactly that: a big golden chair with red velvet cushions that overlooked the entire ballroom.I smirked as I entered and looked around.“Your mask?”I turned, looking Riccardo’s son Niccolò in the eyes. His pupils widened befo
SeraBright lights momentarily blinded me as Niccolò shoved me onto the stage. I’d been fighting him the whole time, screaming in terror at the top of my lungs as he dragged me through a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He’d cuffed my hands behind my back and slapped his hand over my mouth, threatening to beat me within an inch of my life if I didn’t shut up.“I’ll keep you alive,” he’d rasped, “only because killing you would be a merciful act compared to what will happen to you after the auction.”Now I stood on a stage practically naked. A black chemise two sizes too small hugged every curve and was so tight on my breasts that the silken fabric did nothing to hide the hardened peaks of my nipples. It was freezing, but I couldn’t tell if my teeth were chattering because of the cold or only the sheer, paralyzing panic I felt.My knees bit into stone as I looked up at the crowd through the thick tangles of curls falling over my face. They were all wearing masks. Some people tilted their head