Blood Wedding: A Mafia Romance

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