ONE

THALIA

The gun went off seven times.

I counted each shot. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Sharp cracks that sounded wrong, muffled by the silencer but still loud enough to make my ears ring. Or maybe that was just the screaming. My screaming, I think, though it didn't sound like my voice at all.

Rafael's body jerked with each impact. I felt it. Every single bullet that tore through him registered as a shudder against my chest, my stomach, my thighs. He'd thrown himself on top of me maybe two seconds earlier, his hand shoving my head down into the mattress hard enough that my teeth cut into my lip. I tasted copper. Blood. His blood was everywhere now, hot and wet, soaking through my wedding dress.

"Rafael. Rafael, please. Someone help!" My voice cracked. I tried to push him off, tried to see his face, but he was too heavy. Dead weight. The thought made me want to vomit.

The shooter was gone. I'd seen them for maybe half a second before Rafael moved. A shadow in the doorway, something metallic catching the light. That was it. That was all I got before my new husband decided I was worth dying for.

I managed to roll us both to the side. Rafael's eyes were open but not seeing anything. His mouth moved like he was trying to say something, but only blood came out. It ran down his chin, dripped onto the white sheets that were supposed to be romantic, supposed to mark the beginning of our life together.

"Stay with me. Please stay with me." I pressed my hands against his chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but there were too many holes. Blood welled up between my fingers, warm and thick. His dress shirt was ruined. My hands were ruined. Everything was ruined.

He stopped moving. Just stopped. His chest didn't rise again.

"No no no no no." I grabbed his face, patted his cheek, anything to get a response. Nothing. His skin was still warm but he was gone. I could feel it. That absence. One second ago there was a person here and now there wasn't.

I screamed again. Louder this time. Where the hell was security? This was the Torrisi compound. There were supposed to be guards everywhere. Rafael told me during our engagement that his family took security seriously, that I'd be safe here. Safe. The word felt like a joke now.

I kept screaming. Kept calling for help. My throat went raw.

Eventually I stopped and just held him. His head in my lap, my fingers in his hair, both of us covered in blood that was already starting to cool. The bedroom was quiet except for my ragged breathing. Outside the door, I could hear music still playing downstairs. The wedding reception was still going. People were dancing, drinking, celebrating peace between the families while Rafael bled out in the honeymoon suite.

I don't know how long I sat there. Long enough that my legs went numb. Long enough that the blood on my hands started to dry and crack. Long enough to memorize every detail of his face. The small scar above his left eyebrow. The way his hair fell across his forehead. The exact shade of his eyes, brown with flecks of gold that I'd only noticed earlier today when we said our vows.

The door finally burst open.

"Miss Corsini!" One of the guards, I didn't know his name. He took one look at the scene and went pale. "Holy Christ. Marco! Get Marco now!"

More men poured in. Someone tried to pull me away from Rafael but I wouldn't let go at first. Couldn't. If I let go then this was real, then this actually happened, then my wedding night ended with my husband dying in my arms.

"Thalia." A woman's voice. Soft but firm. "Thalia, you need to let him go."

I looked up. Rosa, Rafael's mother. She was still in her mother-of-the-groom dress, emerald green silk that matched her eyes. Those eyes were red now, streaming tears, but her face was eerily calm.

"He's dead," I said. My voice sounded flat. Disconnected. "Someone shot him. They shot him and I couldn't stop it."

"I know, cara. I know." She knelt beside me, her dress soaking up blood without her seeming to notice or care. "But you need to let the men take him now. Can you do that?"

I couldn't. But I did anyway. My hands loosened and someone lifted Rafael away from me. Rosa helped me stand. My legs barely worked. The wedding dress clung to me, heavy with blood, the lace bodice completely red now instead of ivory.

"Who did this?" Marco appeared in the doorway. He was Rafael's godfather, the underboss, second only to Salvatore in the family hierarchy. His face was hard, murderous. "Who the fuck did this?"

"I don't know." I looked at him. "I didn't see. Just a shadow. They had a gun with a silencer. Rafael saw them and he just... he moved so fast. He covered me."

Marco's jaw clenched. He looked at Rafael's body, now lying on the floor where two guards were checking for a pulse they wouldn't find. "The bride was the target."

"What?" Rosa's hand tightened on my arm.

"Look at the angles. Whoever fired was aiming for the bed, for her side of it. Rafael got in the way." Marco's voice was cold, clinical. Calculating. "This wasn't about killing the groom. This was about killing a fucking Corsini on Torrisi ground."

The room went silent. Everyone was staring at me now.

"But why?" Rosa asked. "She's basically the alliance. Killing her destroys everything we've been working toward."

"Exactly." Marco pulled out his phone. "Salvatore needs to know. And someone get Domenic Corsini on the line. His daughter just became a widow in our house."

My father. God. My father was going to lose his mind when he found out. The marriage was supposed to fix things, supposed to end fifty years of violence between our families. Instead the wedding night turned into a murder scene.

"I need to sit down." The room tilted. Rosa caught me before I hit the floor.

"Get her cleaned up," Marco ordered. "And someone find out where the fuck security was. Seven shots fired and it took them eleven minutes to respond. That doesn't happen by accident."

Someone helped Rosa walk me out of the bedroom. I looked back once. Rafael was still on the floor, his white dress shirt completely crimson, his face already looking waxy and unreal. The man I'd married six hours ago. The man who'd smiled at me during the ceremony and promised we'd figure this out together. The man who'd died before we'd even finished our wedding night conversation.

We'd been talking about stupid things. Where to go for a honeymoon. Whether we wanted kids eventually. How to merge our lives when we barely knew each other. Normal things that couples discuss, awkward but sweet.

Then the door opened and everything ended.

Rosa led me to another bedroom, this one untouched by violence. She helped me out of the ruined dress, peeling lace and satin away from my skin. There was blood everywhere. In my hair, under my nails, between my fingers. I stood there shaking while she filled the bathtub.

"In," she said quietly.

I climbed in. The water turned pink immediately.

"They're going to blame me." My voice echoed off the tile. "My family will think I failed. Everyone will think I killed him… the alliance… oh god." I knew I was panicking but I couldn’t stop.

Rosa didn't deny it. She just wrung out a washcloth and started cleaning blood off my shoulders. "Rafael cared for you."

"He didn't even know me."

"He knew enough. He wouldn't have covered you otherwise." She paused, cloth hovering over my collarbone. "My son died protecting you, Thalia. That means something. Whatever happens next, remember that."

What happened next was going to be hell. I knew it already. Could feel it coming like a storm on the horizon.

Rafael was dead. And I was a widow at twenty-three, covered in my husband's blood.

This was supposed to be my wedding night.

Instead it was the worst night of my life.

And somewhere out there, the person who'd pulled the trigger was still breathing while Rafael wasn't.