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Chapter Sixty-Seven

I'm walking down the altar.

Aurelio is by my side, taking my father's place. This would look like an actual marriage to any passerby, but it doesn't feel like one. Enzo looks like a stranger. I don't recognize this hardness in his eyes. This isn't the man that made love to me last night. It can't be. Every time I look at him, I feel disappointed, not just with him, but with myself. I should have done better. I should have trusted my instincts. I shouldn’t have given him he power to wound me like this. I’m devastated. Crushed. I thought that what we had was beautiful, but it was all a game to him. One to satisfy his ego.

I don't smile, it'll look too fake. I'm well aware of Giotto’s eyes on me, but I don't give him the satisfaction of looking at him. I keep my eyes on the groom and make sure I don't trip, because my legs feel wobbly. I'm still trying to figure out how they're going to kill Giotto. We're in a church, there's even a priest here. Don't tell me they're going to do it her
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