Corrupt by Aubree Valentine
Chapter 7
Wedding bells ring at the church as the happy couple makes their way to their awaiting limo outside.
The ceremony was beautiful. Angelo stood at the end of the aisle looking like one of the seven sins in his black suit, which means he wasn’t there when that last shipment came in. And their wedding happened like we...or the NYPD...didn’t take down half of his men last night.
He’s played the part. Standing tall and proud like none of this is a lie. If he noticed me in the pews, he didn’t react.
In another life, I may have been touched and actually shed a tear. And if we were right about Angelo, he wouldn’t be getting married today.
Now as I’m hiding in the background as he spins his new bride around on the dance floor, I wonder if anyone realizes that the smile on Angelo’s face doesn’t meet his eyes. That he doesn’t look at Aria like she’s hung the moon. The poor bloke looks bitter, sad, even. As if he knows that his life will never be what he wants it to be.
I know the minute he realizes I’m in the room. The song has ended and he lets go of Aria’s hand. His whole body tenses as he slowly turns in my direction.
Fire lights in his eyes as I smile back at him from the bar. With a raise of my glass, I give him a curt nod in mock congratulations.
I’ve got to give credit where credit is due. Angelo manages to maintain his composure and moves gracefully across the room until he reaches my side.
“Ah, Mister Warren,” he says, referencing my undercover name. “How kind of you to join the celebration this evening,” he says with a shake of my hand and a pat on the back as if I’m one of his business associates. With one look around the room, he leans closer before whispering in my ear, “Why are you here, Jay?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I grit out and play the role of clingy boyfriend. “You left again. And didn’t call. I had to track you down from some announcement in the local paper.”
Aria slips beside us and laces her arm through Angelo’s with a sad grin on her face. “Ang, honey, I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to your friend.”
Angelo clears his throat, “Aria, my beautiful bride, this would be Jay Warren. He’s an old friend of mine. I actually wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it.”
“Oh, I see. Well, any friend of Ang’s is a friend of mine,” she says with the well-taught grace she was no doubt bred with.
“Mrs. Bellini, you make one beautiful bride. It’s an honor to meet you,” I lay it on thick while leaning it for a traditional kiss to her cheek. The anger vibrating off of Angelo is almost laughable and I’m not sure who he’s actually more protective of at the moment.
“Aria, could you do me a favor and entertain our guests for a moment while Mister Warren and I do a little catching up? I promise, we won’t be long.” He makes quite the show of kissing Aria’s lips, enough that I’d almost believe it. If not for the look of sheer disgust that Aria is trying her best to hide.
“Of course, dear.”
Angelo subtly drags me from the reception area and into a back office where he locks the door.
“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I was clear that if you so much as said a word, you would be dead,” he immediately yells.
“You have such little faith in me, Ang.”
“Do. Not. Call me that,” he snaps, flexing his hands at his side.
“You know, I’m insulted that you think I’d show up on your wedding day - of all days - and announce to the world that you’re gay.”
The irony that there is true hurt and rage behind my words is not lost on me. All this time I thought that I could keep my feelings separate. Then I convinced myself it was just a rebound, a little fun after breaking up with Marco. It’s far from it. I’ve went and fucking fallen for my fucking mark.
“Shut up!” he yells again and swipes his hand across the desk.
“Listen. I get it, Angelo. I get that fear. I’m not asking you to shout it from the rooftops. I’m not asking you to tell anyone about me. Far from it. But I would have thought after the last few weeks, you could have at least offered me the courtesy of telling me about your wedding. The invitation should have come from you, Angelo. You. Should. Have. Told. Me.” I poke his chest with every word. “I let you in. And I thought you were letting me in too. What a fool I must have been.”
“You’ve learned nothing Jay. A man like me, I could never be with a person like...you,” he spits. “What you thought, is wrong. Sex. That’s all we had together was sex. It was fun while it lasted and now, as you witnessed, I am a married man.”
The fact that his words feel like such a dagger to my heart serves as all the proof I need that I have gotten way too close.
“A married man you say? A married man who less than twenty-four hours ago was begging me to crawl in his bed like the dirty secret we both are.”
“Damnit, Jay. What do you want me to say? Do you want me to invite you on my goddamn honeymoon? I’ve told you before, I cannot risk my true sexuality getting out,” this time he straightens his tie. “Now, I need to get back to my...wife. I trust you can see yourself out?”
“Yes. Are you fucking happy now? Yes. Invite me on your damn honeymoon. Tell your wife that you’re fuck boy is coming. Christ, it’s not like she…” The words almost roll off my tongue but somehow I catch myself. I can’t let Angelo know that I’m already fully aware of his honeymoon itinerary and that my new goal is to get myself invited along. “Forget it. Yeah, Ang. I’ll see myself out.”
My last dig is all it takes. Angelo is on me with a hunger I’ve never seen before. His lips crash into mine and his tongue forces its way past my lips. One hand tangles in my hair, nearly pulling it from the root. The other hand grips the back of my neck hard enough to leave bruises. Every ounce of breath disappears from my chest and I’m intoxicated on this man.
It shouldn’t be this way. Angelo should not have this effect on me. Not now, not ever. I want him. Every goddamn line I’ve drawn is blurred right now. I’m letting a man corrupt me.
