Devoted: A Dark Mafia Romance (Beneath The Mask Series Book 3)
Devoted: Chapter 72

“You’re doing well so far. No one would know your heart is breaking inside,” Maria leans over and whispers.

I ignore her, shooting daggers at Dante.

My fingers dig into the chair in front of me so deeply the wood splinters. Frankie coughs from his seat in the aisle next to mine and gives me a tiny shake of his head when I glance at him.

My leg bounces up and down erratically as the violins start playing.

“If we could stand for the bride,” the priest announces.

I stand, holding my hands in front of my body.

The room goes silent and everyone turns to the entrance.

I can’t. I can’t look at her.

I fear if I do, Maria will be right. My heart will shatter.

My body is on high alert as she approaches me from behind. Everyone is muttering about how beautiful Rosa looks.

I squeeze my eyes shut as if I’m in physical agony.

I’ve failed her. I promised I would never abandon her, yet here we are.

Her heels clicking against the wooden floor get closer to me. I take a deep breath and open my eyes, turning my head to the right.

All the air is sucked from my lungs, tears stinging in my eyes as she is level with me. For some kind of punishment, I roam her body. Her dark hair curled, cascading down her back.

That horrid fucking dress.

My gaze stops on her left arm. The small bruises scatter on the outside of her bicep. She keeps her eyes forward and continues walking down the aisle. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I sit forward, getting a better look as she passes me.

Distinct fingerprint bruises mark her skin. He marked her.

No one touches my Rosa.

As I go to stand, Maria’s nails dig into my arm and she pulls me back down. She leans into me. “Unless you want the next one to be Rosa’s funeral, I suggest you stay seated, Luca. We are ready for war. Are you?”

My heart pounds, sweat beads on my forehead.

I look over at Frankie, who shakes his head at me.

The violins come to a stop and the room falls silent. Everyone watches as Rosa approaches Dante. He turns to the crowd and smiles straight at me, fresh scratch marks on his cheeks, leaving me shaking with rage.

The priest introduces himself and who knows what else he says. My ears are ringing so loud I can’t concentrate. I can barely remember how to breathe. Every ounce of will power is being used not to get up and shoot him between the eyes.

And slitting the throat of the bitch who has her claws digging into my thigh.

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