Clipping Thorns (Withered Rose Book 2), page 3
Olivia nudges me with her elbow and smiles until her cheeks turn pink. I can’t believe how excited she is about this, but I’d rather have her smiling all day than weeping in my arms at the thought of going off on a honeymoon with Marco.
“Are you ready to dance?” I say, thinking of my first dance with Amory. It was such a disaster, but now the memory makes me smile. I’d give anything to replay that day and make everything right. But I’m glad I’m here now. My struggles so far have only made me stronger.
Olivia starts to shimmy at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m gonna tear that floor up!”
I snort.
“What?” she says with a self-conscious smile. “This could be the last night we get to celebrate like this. Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow?”
She’s right… The war could overtake us all at any moment. The Garden is already damaged, some say beyond repair.
I squeeze her shoulder. “Enjoy yourself tonight.”
“You, too!” Olivia shifts in her chair to face me. “Promise me you’ll dance, too.”
“I—uh—I …” I honestly hadn’t planned on staying for much longer. I love Olivia and I’m so happy for her, but this atmosphere is starting to weigh on me. It all reminds me of everything I had with Amory and how much it sucks that it’s suddenly, inexplicably over.
I can’t say any of this to Olive, though. I don’t want to make her sad and reveal that her best friend is abandoning her on her special day. Instead, I say, “I don’t have anyone to dance with.”
Her jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? You’re Rosa De Luca! And you’re absolutely gorgeous! I saw so many guys checking you out.”
I didn’t.
“Really?” I ask politely.
She nods so emphatically her crown of roses shifts on her head. I fix it for her as she says, “Of course I did! But you know who stared the longest?”
I shrug.
Olivia grins and lowers her voice, even though we’re the only ones in the room. “Aldo.”
I suppress a groan. Aldo Romano is Olive’s older brother. He’s twenty-seven and crazy hot, and high-ranking enough that my father had once hinted that we’d be paired together once I finished college. But I never graduated. And I’ve honestly never been interested in him.
None of that has ever deterred Olivia, however. She’s been trying to hook us up since I turned fourteen. Aldo was twenty-one at the time, by the way.
In his defense, Aldo’s never looked at me with any more interest than I’ve looked at him. But that might have been because I’m seven years younger and have never been old enough for him to take seriously. But now I’m twenty and everything’s changed.
I sigh. I am totally not ready to step out and try dating again. But this is my best friend’s wedding and I want to make her happy. If Olivia can smile after being married off to a man like Marco Segreto, then I can make it through one measly dance with her admittedly sexy brother.
“Fine, I’ll tear up the floor for one song only,” I tell her with a grin.
Olivia crushes me in a hug.
We find our way back to the bridal party so we can enter the reception hall. Everyone has been waiting but no one complains too much, one of the perks of being best friends with the bride. I pass Olivia her bouquet and dab at her stubbornly shiny forehead with a tissue once more before she takes Marco’s arm and starts the procession.
Incidentally, I’ve been paired with Aldo in the party. He’s one of Marco’s groomsmen and has been my partner for the whole event so far. We walked down the aisle together and posed like a couple for the group wedding photos. I honestly hadn’t noticed him much until now.
I smile up at him as we start walking into the hall. “Excited?” I say.
He quirks a dark eyebrow and leans down so he can hear me. I catch a whiff of his masculine cologne and try not to let it affect me. “What’d you say?”
The cheering from the hall gets louder as Olivia and Marco enter. We’re the next ones inside, so I can barely get my voice loud enough without shouting at Aldo. Instead of trying to speak, I just take his arm and lean my head against his shoulder. Aldo pats my hand and then guides me to our spot where we wait for the MC to tell a joke and then announce that dinner can begin. We find our seats and I sit with a sigh, Aldo leans over with a question in his eyes, but Father Serrano takes the mic to lead us all in prayer before the food is served.
When the old Priest is finished, my eyes meet with Aldo’s once again. They’re green just like Gio’s, with flecks of gold sparkling through them. I can’t help but smile when I catch his gaze.
“You were trying to tell me something,” he says, leaning closer.
“I was only asking if you were excited.”
He smiles, eyes quickly scanning the rest of me. The bridesmaid dresses are just as racy as Olivia’s gown; a gentle shade of lavender with a sweetheart neckline that shows off my cleavage. The dress goes past my knees, but there’s a split all the way up my right side so you can see up to my upper thigh.
Aldo’s eyes seem to ride curves I didn’t even know I had as he drags his gaze up my body to my face again. “I’m very excited,” he says in Italian.
We eat in relative silence, watching the crowd and exchanging small talk. Mostly, Aldo just complains that his workload has doubled since I went to Jersey. I feel embarrassed for a moment, but then he says something that catches my attention.
“Your escape made things difficult for us, but not much worse than they were before.”
I look at him with my brows knit together, trying to understand what he means. Aldo catches my expression and then waves me off. “I mean, we’re not broken beyond repair.”
“But business is bad.” I can’t stop myself from thinking of the conversation I overheard between Amory and his cousin Conrad before he had our marriage annulled. Conrad had mentioned Amory taking over a bunch of failing businesses.
Aldo studies me a moment before he forces a smile and says, “Rosa, it’s a wedding. Don’t you know it’s bad luck to talk business here?”
I give him an equally forced smile and stuff wedding cake into my mouth. I don’t believe in luck. And I’m not fooled by Aldo’s charming smile. It seems the entire Garden of Manhattan is withered, and I’m starting to think Giovanni has something to do with it—more than my great escape ever did.
But Aldo is right, it may have nothing to do with ‘luck,’ but it is rude to discuss business while Olivia twirls like a princess on the dancefloor. Marco handles her delicately, almost like he’s afraid of breaking her, but their performance is heartwarming, and I can’t stop myself from smiling as I watch.
When the music changes from the sappy love song Marco picked out to a more upbeat groove, Aldo touches my shoulder. “Should we join them?”
I nod and take his hand.
Aldo is a great dancer. He moves smoothly and never lets me feel awkward, not even when I accidentally trip and step on his foot. We go through three different songs before I try to break away, but that’s when the DJ decides it’s time for another slow song.
Panting, Aldo pulls me closer and says in my ear, “One last dance.”
It’s hard to resist him when he’s being so charming, holding me like we’re in love, making me miss the husband I barely got to know.
I must miss Amory more than I think … as I step into Aldo’s arms and glance over his shoulder, I swear I see him in the crowd. I want to say my eyes are playing tricks on me. I want to say the feeling of Aldo’s warm hands on my hips is making me dizzy with desire. But I would know those stormy grey eyes anywhere. I would recognize his strong jaw and his sharply focused gaze. And I would never miss the way he so easily finds my gaze, locks eyes with me, and then coolly walks away.
“Amory…” I whisper.
Something tugs at my elbow, and I realize I’ve pulled away from Aldo. He’s staring at me in shock, undoubtedly confused as to why I suddenly walked away from him.
My heart breaks a little at the sincerity in his eyes as he says, “Rosa?” but I don’t have time to pity him. I need to get to my husband.
“I’m sorry,” I say, tugging my arm away as I turn and leave.
Four
I don’t look back as I push through the crowd. I don’t want to see the look on Aldo’s face, but I also fear I’ll lose my resolve if I look away from the door I saw Amory leave through.
I feel like I’m losing my mind. There’s no way the German underboss showed up at an Italian wedding unnoticed. Then again, Amory was once best friends with Giovanni. And they’ll still have business with each other until our annulment is finalized. I suppose it wouldn’t be too farfetched to imagine him showing up to pay his respects. It could be taken as an act of goodwill on Amory’s part—extending an olive branch in the midst of war.
When I push through the door, I take a deep breath and freeze in place.
The hallway is empty.
But I won’t let defeat get to me just yet.
Without thinking, I start down the corridor as quickly as my four-inch heels will allow. Just as I pass the turn for the restrooms, I see him.
Amory is leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, hiding in the shade of the bathroom alcove. I can’t stop the gasp that escapes me, and I curse myself for the tears that immediately well up in my eyes. I don’t want him to see me crying, but I won’t ignore the way I feel. It was that shyness—that fear of exposing myself to my own husband—that got us in this situation in the first place. I won’t make that same mistake again.
“Amy,” I whisper, stepping closer.
He turns and casually walks deeper into the little hall. I follow him without hesitation. There’s a set of lounge chairs around the corner, by the entrance to the men’s and women's lavatories. I expect to find him sitting in one, but as I turn the corner, I am suddenly grabbed by my arm and jerked to the side.
I react faster than I mean to and end up jabbing my perpetrator in the chest with the heel of my palm.
Amory stumbles backwards and bucks his eyes wide open. “Sheesh, Rosa,” he says, grabbing his chest.
I squeal and cover my mouth. “I’m sorry! You scared me!”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“You tried to snatch me up!”
He laughs, still rubbing at the spot where I’d hit him. “I tried to pull you into my arms.” His strong arms open wide, welcoming me. “For a hug.”
I hesitate. Is this really my husband?
A frown works its way over Amory’s full lips, and he drops his arms. “Where’d you learn that?”
“Adella’s been teaching me,” I say with a proud smile, but it doesn’t last long. I actually meant to hit him in the throat, but Amory’s over six feet tall and I’m an inch shy of five feet. I’d have to aim at the sky to get to his throat, but I think my older cousin would be proud of my reflexes. It’s only been three weeks since we started, but my hard work is already paying off.
Amy steps closer. “Rosa, I don’t have much time.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you.”
“At Olivia’s wedding?”
“I couldn’t find any other way to contact you. Giovanni won’t answer my calls and your grandfather keeps telling me you’re unavailable.”
Everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before each gang is dragged into this war. But Grandpa has made it more than clear that he wants to stay out of it for as long as possible. The best way to do that is to mind our business—which means no communicating with rival gangsters. Especially ones you’re in love with.
The look on Amory’s face is difficult to name. Hurt? Confusion? Anger? He seems to frown down at me as he asks, “Did you tell Jameson you don’t want to speak with me?”
“Is that what Papa Jamie told you?”
He makes a face at the nickname but answers with a slow nod. “It doesn’t matter now that I’m here.”
“What is it, Amy?”
He runs his hand through his hair and looks at me fully, his grey eyes trailing from my head to my toe. Then he turns away like it pains him to speak his next words. “The annulment papers, Rosa. You signed the wrong name.”
My heart skips a beat. I did sign the wrong name, hoping the mistake would cause the paperwork to be sent back and re-filed—giving me more time to sort things out with my husband. I’m ecstatic that it actually worked, but I’m still not sure how Amory feels about it, so I don’t speak for a moment.
His sharp grey eyes lock on me when he looks up. “You have to fill everything out again.”
For a moment, I can’t speak.
In my head, he was supposed to rejoice that we had a second chance. He was supposed to be thrilled that I hadn’t broken our promise, that I’d fought for our marriage. Instead, his face is unreadable, just as it was the day he passed me the pen and told me to sign on the dotted line.
I ball my hands into fists and lift my chin. “I’m not filling anything out.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not,” I snap.
“Rosa, the Hunters will lose this war if we don’t get aid!” He takes a large step toward me, immediately closing the space between us. “Do you want me to fight the Volkovs alone?”
“I want you to fight them with me by your side!” I nearly yell.
Amory looks shocked, but the emotion passes quickly. When I blink, his face is back to its usual passive expression, though I can see the way his jaw seems to tighten.
“I’m not signing any more papers,” I say sternly. “I didn’t want to sign the first copy.”
Amory’s face pinches in anger and he opens his mouth to say something rude, but his phone chimes and cuts him off. He hisses out a nasty string of German words before he yanks the phone out and then curses in English.
“I’ve got to go,” he says stiffly. “But I’m not done with this conversation.”
“I am,” I say with a huff.
His eyes seem to drill holes into me. “Rosa—”
“You’re wasting time you don’t have if you think you can convince me to sign the papers.”
To my shock, a smirk stretches over his face. “You really don’t want to let me go, do you?” he murmurs, coming even closer. He’s hovering over me now, making me shrink before him.
There is a weighty silence that stretches between us. The air is tense, and my body feels stiff, like a light wind could knock me over. I don’t know what Amory wants from me right now. He’s just standing there staring down at me; the full intensity of his stormy gaze almost makes my knees wobble. There is a heat exuding from him that I cannot understand, like there is only one thought on his mind, but he won’t dare speak it aloud.
What does he want? I wonder as his eyes narrow on my face. His grey gaze drags down the length of my dress, pausing briefly on the split up my thigh. He’s so close, I can smell his cologne. I can reach out and touch him if I want, but I know any contact right now would send me over the edge. If he hugs me, I won’t let go. If he kisses me, I won’t stop him.
But the silence and his nearness are making me nervous. What does he expect me to do with him standing so close—climb him like a flagpole and claim my prize at the top?
I almost shake my head at myself. I need to get it together.
“Do you still want me?” Amory asks in a low, buttery voice.
My heart flutters and my ears burn in embarrassment. Of course I still want him. I never stopped wanting him. The annulment was his idea, not mine. But I’m too afraid to say that—at least in so many words. Instead, I muster the courage to whisper, “We both promised to fight for this marriage.”
Amory finally steps away, taking the storm of emotions with him. “This is me fighting.”
“Fighting to walk away.”
“Fighting to keep you alive.”
“Amy—”
His phone buzzes again, this time I grunt in annoyance, and he sighs tiredly. “I’ve got to go, Rosa. How can I contact you again?”
Amory had to sneak his way into Manhattan to see me. God knows what my grandfather will do if any of his men catch him trying to slip into the Bronx. He’s an underboss in a rival mafia. He’s locked in a war with the Russian gangs of Staten Island. Visiting me could end up costing him more than he’s willing to give.
But no one said I couldn’t find my way to him.
I take a breath. “I’ll contact you.”
Amory raises a single brow. “How?”
“I’ll come to your house.” I shake my head. “I’ll come home. Tomorrow night.”
He doesn’t question it. With a nod, Amy leans down and brushes a kiss to my forehead. It’s a quick little peck that shouldn’t even mean anything, but it nearly takes my breath away. I’m dizzy with emotion when we leave the alcove side by side, but the sight of Eliana Moreno standing in the corridor slaps me back to sobriety.
I stop walking dead in my tracks. “Why did you bring her to my best friend’s wedding?” I don’t bother hiding the growling snarl in my voice.
Eliana’s voice is just as nasty. “Because I am his fiancé, and he wants me by his side.”
“I told you to wait in the car,” Amory bites out.
She ignores him and takes a step toward me. “I am tired of you coming between us.”
I take a step too, unfazed and unafraid. “I am Mrs. Jäger. You’re the one coming between us.”
Amory gets between us and pulls Eliana out of my face. She stumbles in her heels but doesn’t lose her footing. She also never takes her eyes off me, not even when Amy starts cursing in German and yelling at her. After releasing a string of foul words, his phone chimes again and he nearly throws it at the wall.
“Behave,” is the last word he says to Eliana before stepping away.
