KIAN'S ACT

Twenty-Eight

The day had arrived; the day of the wedding.

The wedding was taking place in Rome, in the Papal Basilica of Saint Peter in the Vatican. The pews were filled with the world's most powerful men and the unfortunate women tied to them. Some of the members were undercover agents, praying that they wouldn't be so unfortunate so as to be exposed on such a day.

Kian Kores Kennedy was getting married today, and a man who could get the Pope to stand in a church filled with sinners– was the sort of man you wanted to meet. This was a monumental moment, so many powerful men from powerful families; mob bosses, gangsters, billionaires and all things corrupt, were all under one roof.

The crowd stood as the orchestra began their performance and in walked the man of the hour.

He confidently strolled into the place, his ivory mask intact. He wore it with a matching half a million dollar ivory suit, custom made by Schiaparelli. On his wrist sat a shiny, 9 million dollar watch, he'd sawed off the hand of a billionaire who'd looked at him the wrong way.

Kian's long hair moved with a slight bounce with each step as he entered the place and forest green eyes connected with the Pope's, who held a cross.

Kian was no believer, it's why he feared little to nothing. He didn't pray, didn't believe, and didn't repent. He was as sick as they came, and he didn't give two fucks about it.

He walked to the end of the aisle and his eyes connected with the people in the front row; Kane and Kores. Kane stood with Samantha, and Kores kept repeatedly looking down at his wristwatch.

Kian stopped at the front of the church and the orchestra changed their tune to that of the piece that he'd written for his love. The song was beautiful, gentle, and like the lullaby he'd pictured her dancing to.

Kian stood, waiting for those doors to open again.

The doors swung open and there she stood; his pixie– Liyana.

She was a vision, dressed in a beautiful ivory wedding dress. It was a show stopping bohemian style dress, with a casual sheath silhouette– every bit of his pixie's sense of style. The dress was made of a stunning lace with long flared bell sleeves and an open key hole back. The dress clung to her figure like second skin, the lace seeming to be as though tattooed on her skin, and the modest plunge between her breasts that showcased the diamond that she'd placed around her neck. She looked to be a fairy, the long sleeves of the dress dragging on the floor, the music playing in the church, the choir singing hymns–

To Kian, it felt too much like heaven. He feared at that moment...his pixie made him a believer.

Downturned ebony eyes connected with forest green ones, and suddenly it was like they were taken back to the very moment that they met. Time created a replay for the both of them, starting from last night as Kian had crouched at her feet and cradled her face, to the moment she wept as he whipped her, to the moment when he'd pulled her chair closer to him during their last dinner with friends. Then time took them through the moment when she'd twirled and danced in his arms in his large ballroom, her bare feet moving with the grace of Tinkerbell, and time took her back to the moment that they had stood on the balcony, and the way that they had kissed. Time took them back to the moment when she'd called him the devil, and then it took them to the very beginning...to the kitchen, when she'd sat on the island and he'd came to stand by her.

"Liyana...it means, 'it's raining'" the words seemed to ring in both of their ears, and the way that she'd touched him; touched his mask. The moment that started it all...the beginning of the end.

And then, it all stopped.

Time stopped replaying, and stood still.

And then there she was, standing in front of him, her white veil being lifted over her face as she peered up at the man that had ruined her. Her back still bared the scars that he'd given her, her heart would never ever be whole again, and she'd left rivers of her tears wherever she'd stepped.