Love and Lust (The Hamartia Trilogy Book 2)

Capitolo XXIII

I heard my hip thud on the platform as Lucas tackled me to the ground.

He cursed under his breath, covering me with his body before I heard the hiss of a bullet passing by us and hitting the priest by the shoulder. He grunted and fell to the ground, screaming as blood stained his white cassock.

Three of Lucas' men who were standing by the platform whose guns were ready, fell to the ground like puppets as bullets passed through their heads. Even a few of my security fell from the balcony, probably with bullets between their brows as well.

From my peripheral, I saw Gerlando rush Aurelia from the turmoil that was about to happen. Lucas' mother did not complain, instead she eyed her children worriedly and followed her husband. Surely, she was confident that her children were born for this--to withstand that tsunami of catastrophes.

The crowd did not scream, though. Well, they couldn't possibly since they were Lucas' family and they're probably used to this bullshit by now. Although some of the women covered their kids, and the men of the families took out their own guns and covered their wives. Technically, every man was ready to fight. From the looks of it, they were expecting one.

My fear was for the fucking press. They were not used it, and they will for fucking sure broadcast how disastrous this wedding ceremony was. Probably the worst of the decade. Thankfully, the trained help was ushering them all out before the chaos could escalate. Well, there goes my chances of being interviewed by Vogue. Whoever crashed the ceremony better be fucking prepared to die.

Another set of bullets flew in our direction, this time, security was able to pull Harriet down. She shrieked from the sudden tug. I can see her being bothered by the tumult, given her history with it. Chase was off the platform, down on the ground and on his earpiece. So was Lucas, I realized.

"Jack," he hissed, still on the ground with me, his breath warm against my skin. "What the fuck is going on?"

And I heard Chase yell, "There's been a breach in the system."

"What?" I yelled, disoriented. Everything still failed to register in my head. What mattered was that the important people here are unharmed. "How can there be a breach? You took care—"

"Fuck!" I heard Lucas cursed. He turned to me, his jaw set. "Turns out your family is here, Mari."

"What?!" I yelled once more, confused. Children started crying by then, their mothers whispering in their ear with whatever crap they could think of to soothe them.

My family is here? Could it be my father? It was impossible, because Lucas said he would take care of it. I stared at him, waiting for him to meet my gaze, to answer the unsaid question hanging in the air. He shook his head in understanding. Then who would—

"Well!" yelled a familiar voice in the middle of the disarray. It was a rugged one with a thick Italian accent that lingered. "Isn't this a beautiful ceremony?" His remark was followed by a chuckle I know all too well. The once murmuring crowd goes completely quiet.

I got to my feet, fought off Lucas' grip on my shoulder that was pushing me to stay down. But no, I wasn't afraid of the man owning the voice. I was just steaming with rage with how he decided to show up on my wedding day. Of all days! Can't a girl get one peaceful day? I've been preparing for this all my life like my training, and for some jackass to crash it made me see red.

"You fucking piece of shit!" I screamed, storming at his direction, grabbing the gun from my thigh holster. Us Santellis always know how to make an entrance. But mine was supposed to be the only one worth the attention.

"That's pretty cliché of you to hide that there, niece," Matteo Santelli chuckled. He had wrinkles on every surface of his face. Marionette lines painted the corners of his lips, probably from decade's worth of laughter with his wife. He's a loyal man, I'll give him that. Frown lines and forehead lines brushed the spot between his brows, those probably from years of trying to find a way to get my father to pay for his violation. The last time I saw the asshole was when I was 15 when my father and I sneakily attended a party for grandfather. I wasn't even afraid of him back then. Now he's much older than I remembered, and skinnier as well. I wasn't one to judge on how others weigh, but I knew he was struggling with lung issues because of his smoking. I guess the medical complications made him look this weary--this thin. If my family wasn't this dysfunctional, I would've asked him how he is. I would have assumed, that given how serious his ailment was, he would've stayed home and prayed to God he still has a place in heaven. Instead, he's here, ruining my fucking day. Was he really that excited to die?