Taken - A Gangster Stepbrother Romance (13 page)

Chapter Twenty Four

              “Oh girl, don’t look so nervous!” Sharon said as she dusted on more blush to her cheeks. She smiled. “Just remember, whatever you’re feeling, every bride before you has felt it too.”

              Emma sat on a small vanity stool in the back of St. Vincent, LA’s largest and most opulent cathedral. She almost let a hysterical laugh loose. She was quite sure whatever it was she was feeling, most brides had
not
felt it.

              But instead, she kept quiet and let Sharon finish the final touches on her make up. Tyrell smiled as he lowered the veil over her face.

              Looking in the mirror, Emma looked like a porcelain doll. A terrified porcelain doll. But brushing her fearful expression off as nerves, Sharon and Tyrell put on the finishing touches, adjusted her gown, and then gave her big hugs as they left the room, saying they would see her at the aisle.

              Emma looked in the mirror again. She didn’t know how Antonio had managed to wrangle her a designer gown, custom fitted exactly to her body, in less than four days but he had. The elegant satin gown hugged her slim waist and emphasized her full cleavage before flowing down into a long full skirt. It was a gown of dreams.

              Except this wedding could hardly be called a dream come true. She felt like she had blinked and woken up on her wedding day. How had it come so fast? Antonio had overseen everything and all Emma had been left with was the responsibility of simply showing up.

              Although Antonio had clearly planned everything down to the detail, his actual physical presence was missing. It seemed like Antonio was willing to organize the wedding but he did not seem to want to participate in it.

             
Well neither do I, if we get down to it!
Emma stood up, her gait awkward from the weight of the dress. Wringing her hands, she felt the immediacy of the moment. She was really about to marry a man she hardly knew to lead a truce between two legendary crime lords.

             
No one would even believe this in a novel, let alone real life.

              She had thought she could do it. She had told herself that if Antonio didn’t want her, she would do what was expected of her and make the best of it. And yet as she stood alone in the bridal dressing room, standing against the full length mirror, her heart refused to cooperate.

              She could hear it scream in protest, demanding that she fight for what she truly wanted.

              Emma truly did want to make a difference in the world. She worked as a counselor for that specific reason. She wanted to help and knew the resources that would soon be available to her could save lives.

              But Emma also truly wanted Antonio in her life, by her side, always and forever.

              Unable to take her mental arguing, she gathered her skirts. She needed to talk to David. If nothing else, perhaps he could calm her down. Maybe if she saw him so ready to take on his marital vows, she would find her courage to do so too.

              Hefting the heavy skirts, she opened the door and swept down the hallway, in search of her groom.

              Down on the opposite wing of the church was the groom’s dressing room. As she neared the door, Emma took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She wanted to talk to David, not frighten him with a half-hysterical woman.

              But as she raised her hand to knock, she heard a gruff curse echo in the room, freezing her hand in the air.

              “Fucking ties!” Frank Cavalli’s voice boomed from inside, only slightly muffled by the walls. “These goddamn things are like fucking nooses.”

              Frank’s gravelly voice was enough to make anyone shiver a little in fear. But hearing him curse in annoyance made Emma jump a little in terror. She wondered if David was used to his father’s frightening voice.

              “Where’s David?” Frank asked a half second before Emma was ready to try and knock again.

              Realizing David wasn’t in the groom’s room with his father, Emma immediately felt a tingling sense of wariness. Who was Frank speaking to then?

              “Out front greeting guests and being a polite little monkey,” an unknown voice jeered. He had a similar gruffness in speech to Frank but wasn’t as gravelly. He sounded younger.

              “And Del Marco?” Frank asked.

              “Last I checked, out front speaking with some reporters,” the younger voice said, contemptuously.

              “And the Del Marco brat?”

              Emma recoiled at the reference.

              “In her dressing room, I’m sure, gussying herself up.” The younger man grunted and grumbled something inaudible before saying louder, “That bitch is wasted on David. He won’t know what to do with a piece like that. I’m telling you, Pops, you shoulda picked me.”

             
Pops.
This must be David’s older brother, Ignacio. Emma’s skin crawled. From everything she had heard, she had been led to believe that the Cavallis wanted this wedding as much as Antonio, perhaps more so since they were the ones to approach Antonio first. But hearing them talk, she could feel the fingers of something dark creeping under her skin.

              “Hey, who knows, maybe Davey likes to share.” Frank’s barking laughter shook the walls.

              “Make sure to call the hangar to double check Davey’s flight for his honeymoon. We want to make sure nothing goes wrong tonight.” Frank belched loudly.

              “I
told
you, Pops, it’s all good. It’s all ready and waiting.”

              “And the men? They got eyes on Del Marco?”

              “They definitely do. They’ll be surrounding his place and as soon as he returns from the reception—” a muffled clicking sound was made from inside, simulating the sound of a gun being cocked.

              Emma was sure everyone in the entire church could hear her heart thudding against her ribs. This was murder. They were talking about murdering Antonio!

              “I’ll make sure to lead the men—”

              “No!” Frank boomed. “I said you don’t take the lead on this. How many times I gotta tell you? I don’t want your prints anywhere near this, got it? We gotta finish him
clean
.”

              “But, Pops. You know how much I want this. You know I want to take Del Marco out with my own bullet—”

              “Ignacio!” Frank roared. “I said no! Tell the men to stay alert and to make it a clean shot. But you stay at the fucking reception and smile, goddammit.”

              A tense silence followed. Emma could almost feel Ignacio’s wounded pride try to rally itself.

              “It’s perfect timing right now,” Ignacio finally said, his voice only slightly resentful. “Gary says that the Ronaldos have been acting up lately. It’ll give him a good segue for him to theorize that the shooting was done by minor gangs trying to rise on up through the ranks. He said he could have the article ready and printed in the
Times
as soon as you give him the go-ahead.”

              “Good, good,” Frank said approvingly. “Then let’s celebrate a little. It is a wedding, after all.” Cigar smoke almost immediately seeped from below the door.

Chapter Twenty Five

Emma stumbled back a few steps, completely stunned. Everything inside her felt cold. She could feel her muscles freezing and sticking to her bones.

              Gaining enough senses, she grabbed her skirts and ran. She could hear her blood rushing against her ears. Had she really just heard Frank Cavalli plotting Antonio’s murder?

             
Oh god, oh god, oh god
.

              Throwing herself back in her dressing room, Emma paced back and forth. What should she do? Even though she knew she had no cell phone, she still looked around the room, searching for one. She had never gotten her cell phone back and after a few days, didn’t think to ask for it back. She was never far away from the only person she would call.

              Emma suddenly jerked back towards the door.
David.

              Did David know? Was he apart of all of this? Was he in on this horrible murder plot as well? She had a hard time believing that he would be and yet, wasn’t he a Cavalli first and foremost?

              Emma thought about running out to the front of the church, in dress and all, and finding Antonio and warning him.

              But her throat caught at Frank’s words.
“They got eyes on Del Marco?”

              Were there men outside right now with rifles pointed at Antonio? If she were to run out and warn him, ruining the whole murder, would Frank still pull the trigger on those snipers?

              She couldn’t risk it. Frank Cavalli clearly was bent on killing Antonio and she couldn’t risk him losing his temper and doing it plain daylight just to spite Emma and Antonio for their meddling.

             
I’ll run. You can’t have a reception if there’s no wedding.
Emma let out a sigh in relief as she felt the edges of a possible plan. She could change right now. The clothes she had come in were still on a pile in the corner of the room. Emma began pulling on her jeans under her dress when a knock came at the door.

              An usher popped his head in. “Five minutes till we call the guests in to be seated!” he said quickly, hardly giving her a look. “Five minutes!”

              If Emma walked out now, leaving a Cavalli man at the altar in front of LA’s and New York’s most elite community members, what would the Cavallis do?

              Frank did not seem like a man who could take that kind of humiliation lying down. The retribution that could potentially follow would be devastating. Not only would Antonio get caught up in it, possibly hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent bystanders as well.

              Emma licked her dry lips, her mind whirring at the pace of a hummingbird’s heart.
Don’t rock the boat just yet.
She didn’t know who knew what or who was on her side. She had to buy herself some time to figure out a plan.

              Looking at the clock above the vanity, Emma realized the only time she had left was her time walking down the aisle.

              Not bothering to take her jeans off, Emma just smoothed her wedding gown over the pants. She took in a deep, shuddering breath.

              If there was even a smidge of Del Marco gumption in her, please let it come out now, Emma prayed.
Please.

Chapter Twenty Six

              “If you’ll stand here, Miss,” the usher said as he pointed to a spot directly behind the church doors.

              Emma swallowed and took up the spot. A hum of adrenaline whirred through her whole body. She was surprised she could even hold her bouquet without shaking.

              First thing was first. She needed to put out as many warnings as possible to reach Antonio. She kicked herself for not fighting harder to have Antonio walk her down the aisle.

              During one of the few meetings they had in regards to the wedding, Emma had asked who would be walking her down the aisle. Antonio had immediately answered, “Steven.”

              “Steven Wells?” Emma asked, surprised.

              Antonio nodded. “He was the closest friend to my father so I think it makes sense.”

             
Maybe in any other wedding.
But in a wedding of this size and of this magnitude, she was quite sure people were expecting to see Antonio walk his little stepsister down the aisle.

              “Are you sure the Cavallis won’t expect
you
to do it?”

              She saw a muscle in his cheek clench. “No,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “Steven should do it. It’ll look better with Steven.”

              At least the lawyer was a loyal ally to Antonio. If she told him what she had overheard, he would most definitely be able to usher Antonio away into safety so they could regroup and plan some kind of security detail or something.

              Emma closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, begging her heart to slow down a little so she wouldn’t pass out. She couldn’t pass out before she warned Steven. She had to make sure that—

              “Nervous, girl?”

              Emma’s eyes flew open at the gravelly voice. She turned and saw the wide and intimidating figure of Frank Cavalli standing next to her, dressed in his finest.

              “What are
you
doing here?” she asked without thinking.

              Frank laughed, the sound so deep and rough it was downright menacing. “Is that any way to speak to your future father-in-law?” He grinned. Not waiting for a reply, he made a brief waving gesture as he said, “Who sends a bride down with a lawyer? No, you need
family
to do it. So if your brother won’t do it, I will.” He gave her an even look. “You’re a Cavalli now. You depend on me now, girl. Alright?”

              Although she knew his words had meant to be comforting and welcoming, she had only heard the undertones of a threat masked within his voice.

             
You depend on me now, girl.

              Emma had lived her whole life thinking she was an orphan. Now she had come to realize she had family. She had Antonio.

              But Frank Cavalli was determined to rip all that away and see her become an actual orphan.

              An usher rushed forward, gesturing for Emma to slip her arm under Frank’s. Music began to swell within the cathedral.

              The double doors opened in a grand sweeping gesture, the music crescendo hitting them like a wall. At the end of the aisle waited David, smiling patiently.

             
No,
she thought. No one would harm Antonio. No one would take her family. Not if she had anything to say about it.