CHAPTER FOUR: She Finds The Devil

The cathedral was a monument to old blood and older sins. Its towering stone arches and stained-glass windows usually spoke of peace, but today, they felt like a cage. 

The pews were filled with the elite of the underworld, men in tailored suits with bulges under their jackets, and women whose diamonds were as sharp as the knives they kept in their clutches. 

For two decades, these two families, the Valentes and the Retroferds, had painted the streets red with each other’s blood. Today, they were here to witness a union that was supposed to end the slaughter.

In the front row, at the specially reserved seats, sat the two kings. Don Michael Valente looked like a man who had finally won a long, exhausting game of chess. 

Opposite him sat Don Maxton Retroferd. Maxton was a statue of ice, his presence so heavy and terrifying that even the men on his own payroll didn't dare breathe too loudly near him. The tension was like a living thing, vibrating through the floorboards, and every guard in the building had their hand hovering near their holster.

The slow, haunting strains of the wedding march began to echo through the hall. The priest, a man whose face was as white as his collar, stood at the altar, his hands trembling as he clutched his Bible. Everyone turned toward the front, but the altar was empty.

The music played on for a minute, then two. But the groom, Evan Retroferd, was nowhere to be found.

The silence that followed was more violent than a gunshot. The guests began to whisper, the sound like a hive of disturbed hornets.

"They played us," someone hissed from the Valente side. "The Retroferds made a fool of the Don."

Michael Valente’s face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. He stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair screeching against the stone floor. He turned toward Maxton, his hand moving instinctively toward the inside of his tuxedo jacket.

"Where is the boy, Maxton?" Michael roared, his voice booming off the vaulted ceiling. "Are you trying to make a mockery of my family? Is this your idea of a joke?"

The reaction was instantaneous. On seeing Michael’s aggressive stance, Maxton’s men lunged forward, drawing their weapons with a synchronized click-clack that sounded like a hail of hailstones. In response, Michael’s men drew theirs, aiming directly at Maxton’s head.

The cathedral erupted into chaos. Guests screamed and scrambled, diving behind pews and marble pillars, waiting for the first bullet to fly. One wrong move, or one nervous finger on a trigger, and the church would instantly become a slaughterhouse.

Maxton remained seated. He didn't reach for a weapon or even flinch. He slowly turned his head toward the entrance, where Carlos, his right-hand man, was standing by the heavy oak doors. Carlos gave a small, subtle shake of his head. 

He had searched everywhere, but Evan was gone…The coward had run away from the marriage.

Maxton looked up at the wall clock. The gold hands were ticking away the last seconds of the peace treaty. Then, he looked at the dozens of guns pointed at him and his family. 

He knew that If this marriage didn't happen right now, the streets would run with more blood than they had in twenty years. His people would die and his legacy would burn.

Maxton slowly stood to his feet. He was a head taller than Michael, his gaze so cold it seemed to freeze the air between them. He ignored the guns pointed at his chest and looked Michael directly in the eye.

"The Retroferds keep their word, Michael," Maxton said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that commanded the room. "The alliance stands, put your weapons down."

"Where is the groom?" Michael spat, his face purple with fury.

"You're looking at him," Maxton replied.

The room went deathly silent. Michael’s eyes widened in shock and Maxton adjusted his cufflinks, his expression as serious and cold. "Bring the girl out. Now."

Outside the heavy doors, Raina stood shivering in her oversized dress. She heard the shouting, the clatter of guns, and the sudden, heavy silence. She didn't know what was happening, but she knew it couldn't be anything good. When the doors finally creaked open, her father stepped out and grabbed her hand in a hard grip.

"Move," he hissed, his fingers digging so deep into her skin she knew she would have bruises by morning.

Raina began the long walk down the aisle and her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She kept her eyes down, expecting to see the notorious, sniveling playboy waiting for her. She expected a man she could at least fight and put in his place when necessary.

But as she reached the altar, she looked up and froze. It wasn't Evan…It was the Devil himself.

Maxton Retroferd stood there, looking down at her with eyes that held no warmth, no pity, and no mercy. The sheer power radiating off him, made Raina tremble. She was so shocked that her foot caught on the hem of her oversized gown and she staggered, nearly falling to her knees.

Michael didn't help or steady her. He let out a low, disgusted growl and yanked her upward by her arm. The force of the pull was so sudden that the bouquet of white lilies flew from Raina’s hand, crashing to the floor and scattering petals everywhere.

Michael didn't care. He dragged her the last few steps and practically shoved her into Maxton’s space. "She’s yours," Michael barked at the Don.

Raina felt a wave of pure heartbreak wash over her. She had spent her life fighting, but this…this was a different kind of defeat. She looked at her father, but he wouldn't look at her. He was already looking at the Retroferd soldiers and calculating his new power.

“Dearly…. Beloved, we…are here to witness…the union between the…Valente family …and..and .. the Retroferds” The ceremony was a total nightmare. The priest was trembling so hard he could barely hold his Bible, his voice stuttering over the words. There was no music, no flowers…No "I do."

Maxton didn't speak or even look at her. When it was time for the rings, a guard handed Maxton a heavy gold band. He took Raina’s hand and shoved the ring onto her finger.

Raina stared at his profile. He was beautiful in a way that was terrifying, like a storm at sea. He didn't spare her a single glance. To him, he was signing a contract and nothing more.

"I.. I …pronounce you... husband and wife," the priest whispered, his voice cracking.

The silence that followed was like a graveyard. In a normal wedding, there would be cheering, clapping, and a kiss. Here, there was only the sound of men holstering their weapons. No one clapped or cheered. Everyone was too afraid to even breathe.

As soon as the words were out of the priest’s mouth, Maxton turned on his heels. He didn't wait for her or offer her his arm. He didn't even acknowledge that she was standing there, shaking in a dress that was too big for her.

He began walking toward the exit, his long, powerful strides echoing through the silent church. He walked with the confidence of a man who had just bought a new piece of property and was already bored with it.

Raina stood alone at the altar. She felt the eyes of hundreds of people on her, the Valentes looking at her with cold greed and the Retroferds looking at her with suspicion and hate. She was the most powerful woman in the city now, the wife of the Great Don, and she had never felt more like a victim.

She looked down at the heavy gold band on her finger and it felt like a shackle.

A single, hot tear rolled down her cheek, carving a path through the expensive makeup. She didn't sob or scream. She just stood there, her body trembling under the weight of the heavy lace gown, as she watched Maxton’s broad back disappear through the cathedral doors….He hadn't even looked at her once.

She just became his wife, and she was already invisible.