Scorn of the Betrothed – Cavalieri Billionaire Legacy Read Online Zoe Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
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My father hugged him. “There was traffic,” he quipped. “The girls inside?”

Uncle Barone nodded as his eyes misted. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s do this.”

My uncle moved toward the hearse, preparing to carry his oldest friend’s coffin. It was not wise given his recent injury, but not one of us dared to stop him. Not even Amara.

We knew he’d bear the pain to have his friend at his shoulder, side by side, one last time.

Father Luca appeared as the coroner opened the back of the hearse. While the coffin was driven here, this hearse would be exchanged for a horse-drawn carriage after the service for the procession to Alfonso’s final resting place.

Father Luca gave our bruised and battered faces a second look but didn’t remark on them. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, Father,” we all said in unison.

“Make sure you turn the coffin around, so he enters the church feet first. As is proper.”

“Yes, Father.”

At the count of three, we lifted the coffin onto our shoulders and walked solemnly into the church.

It was standing room only. Every pew, the aisle, and the altar were covered in white lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums. It was as if spring, pure and fresh, had come early to the village.

As the church’s choir sang Allegri's "Miserere," we slowly made our way down the aisle. The girls were sitting in the front pew, comforting a heavily veiled Aunt Gabriella.

After placing the coffin on the catafalque, we took our seats.

Then watched as Uncle Barone opened the lid and gazed upon his friend one last time.

His shoulders shook.

Amara rose and went to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her tight as they both moved to their seats.

Father Luca began. “L'eterno riposo dona loro, Signore, e splenda ad essi la luce perpetua. Nel nome del Padre e del Figlio e dello Spirito Santo.”

The entire congregation solemnly said, “Amen.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the church after several people, including my father and uncle, rose to give speeches in Alfonso’s honor. It then took close to another two hours for everyone to file past the coffin to give their final respects. Funerals, even in a large, more cosmopolitan village like this, were public affairs. Everyone was always welcome to say their final goodbyes.

Father Luca then concluded the service. “May the angels lead you into paradise, may the martyrs come to welcome you and take you into the holy city, the new and eternal Jerusalem. Eternal rest grant unto him, Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.”

A silence descended over the congregation when Aunt Gabriella suddenly rose. Pushing her shoulders back and her chin up, she approached the coffin.

Lifting her thick, black-lace veil she slipped something out of her purse and placed it in his hand. Then she leaned over and kissed him goodbye.

Lowering her veil, she turned. She seemed to start, as if she saw something in the distance which alarmed her. I turned to look down the church aisle but only saw a sea of mourners.

The assembly held its collective breath as she continued to stand there, a portrait of graceful grief. Then her head lowered, and her body swayed slightly.

Fuck.

Without warning, I vaulted over the pew and dove for her. Catching her in my arms seconds before she would have collapsed to the unforgiving marble floor.

All the girls and Dr. Pantona rushed forward to take her from my arms.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Just a momentary lapse.”

Bianca wrapped an arm around her waist. “Of course, darling. These things happen,” she responded in that crisp, authoritative voice which was so comforting during the uncertainty and upheaval of grief.

Liliana moved to Aunt Gabriella’s other side. “No one saw a thing. You handled yourself beautifully.”

The group moved to a small antechamber off the altar to give her time to recover while we prepared the coffin.

As we moved to lower the lid, we had to rearrange all the mementos and trinkets left inside to shepherd Alfonso’s journey to heaven; flowers, rosaries, small flasks of wine, even a tiny teddy bear given to him by a little girl from the village so he wouldn’t be alone.

Tucked in his hand was a photo of him and Aunt Gabriella. Her head was tilted to the side as she laughed while he towered over her from just behind, looking on with amusement. It was hard to imagine no longer seeing him quietly standing by my aunt. Like an ever-vigilant sentinel, he had watched over her for as long as I could remember.

After securing the lid, we slowly shouldered the coffin once more and turned so Alfonso would once more leave feet first.

As we made our way down the aisle, countless people openly sobbed. It was as if a ballon had popped, releasing the suspended tension in the room.

There was something about this moment.

This very moment. That made it all finally real.



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