Chapter 5

The heads of every major crime family in the country were gathered at St. Patrick's Cathedral.

Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, illuminating a sea of white roses.

I walked down the aisle on Blair’s arm, my couture gown trailing behind me.

In the front pew, my mother watched me, her eyes filled with happy tears.

The ceremony moved to the vows.

The bishop's solemn voice echoed through the cathedral.

"Blair Falcone, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health...?"

Blair turned to me, his deep blue eyes locked on mine.

He opened his mouth, the words "I do" on the tip of his tongue.

BANG!

The massive cathedral doors burst open.

One of Blair’s men staggered in, his face sheet-white. "Don! It's... it's Mrs. Falcone! She's at the suburban house—she slit her wrists! She tried to kill herself!"

Gasps and whispers erupted through the pews. A hundred pairs of eyes drilled into me.

Blair’s pupils contracted.

The hand that was holding mine went slack and fell away.

He instinctively turned to run.

"Blair!" I grabbed his arm, my grip like a vise.

A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, but I ignored it. All I could see was the humiliated look on my mother's face.

"Don't go," I begged, my eyes burning, my nails digging into his sleeve. "My mother is watching. Please. Stay and finish the ceremony. Don't do this to her..."

"A ceremony?!" he snarled, ripping his arm from my grasp. "Is that more important than Mia's life?!"

The force of it sent me stumbling back. The bridal bouquet fell from my hands and scatteredon the floor.

The ruby matriarch's ring slipped from my finger, rolling down the altar steps and into the shadows.

He didn't hesitate for a second. He strode toward the doors.

The pain in my stomach was like a knife twisting. I could feel a warm liquid trickling down the inside of my thigh.

I bit my lip until I tasted blood and used the last of my strength to scream at his retreating back:

"Blair! If you walk out that door today, you and I are over! Forever!"

He stopped for a single heartbeat.

He half-turned, giving me only his cold, hard profile. "This venomous side of you... willing to let a woman die for a fucking ceremony... I don't even recognize you anymore."

Then, without another look back, he was gone.

The second he vanished through the doors, there was a heavy thud from the front row.

I turned to see my mother collapsed on the cold, hard pew, her face as white as a sheet.

"Mom!"

I tried to run to her, but my legs gave out. I crumpled to the floor.

Beneath my pristine white wedding dress, a large, crimson flower bloomed and spread.

My baby...

(Blair's POV)

Blair tore through the city, breaking every speed limit on the way to the hospital.

He found Mia lying in bed, her cheeks rosy, with only a light bandage wrapped around one wrist.

The doctor stood nearby, looking awkward. "Don Falcone, the cut was very superficial. It didn't hit an artery. She's in no danger."

The tension in Blair’s body vanished, replaced by a wave of irritation.

It wasn't that he wanted Mia dead.

But right then, he had a moment of clarity: this whole mess had wrecked the perfect ritual he’d planned for him and Flora.

It was all supposed to go so smoothly…

"Blair!" Seeing the look on his face, Mia threw herself into his arms, crying, her arms locked around his neck. "I'm sorry. I was just so scared of losing you. When I thought about you in that church, making vows to her... I wanted to die."

"I'll apologize to Flora," she sobbed. "I'll do anything she wants, just please don't be mad at me."

Looking at her, so fragile and helpless, the anger in his gut gave way to a tired sense of duty.

He sighed, his voice softening just a little. "Alright. No more stunts like this. Get some rest."

Blair patted her back, trying to comfort her, but his mind was replaying the broken, resolute look in Flora's eyes.

And her last words. We are over. Forever.

A sudden, baseless panic seized him.

Just then, his phone rang. It was his second-in-command, Vito.

Vito's voice was frantic. "Don! The cathedral... something terrible has happened at the cathedral!"