(Marco POV)
I tug at this stupid suit, the tie choking me like a leash. I'm standing in the back of the Manhattan ballroom, watching my dad's latest circus play out. Antonio Rossi, big shot mafia don, marrying some woman I've never met. I hate every second of this. The place is all gold and glass, flashy and fake, just like him. I don't want to be here, but he dragged me back from school for "family duties." His voice on the phone was sharp: "You show up, Marco, or else." I didn't have a choice.
The room's packed, guys in suits, women in dresses, all smiling like this isn't built on blood. My hands ball into fists in my pockets. I've kept Izzy away from this mess, my girlfriend, my escape. She doesn't know about Dad, about the drugs, the guns, the bodies he's left behind. I hate him for it, hate the way his world stains everything. I've been dreaming of burning it all down, just me, no cops, no feds. But not today. Today, I'm stuck playing the good son.
The music starts, some soft crap that makes my skin crawl. Dad's up front, tall and smug in his black suit, hair slicked back. He's grinning, like this is normal, like he's not a monster. The bride, Sofia, he called her, comes down the aisle, all giggles and diamonds sparkling on her neck. She's pretty, I guess, but too happy for someone tying herself to him. I don't get it. What's she see in a guy like that? Money, probably. It's always money with Dad's women.
I shift on my feet, itching to bolt. I texted Izzy before I left the house, "See you later, babe. Family event." She expects me to be planning something for us. I didn't tell her it's this, a wedding I can't stand. Last night was too good to ruin with this junk. Her dorm, her laugh, her body pressed against mine, official now, me and her. I smirk, thinking about it. She's the only thing keeping me sane today.
The crowd claps as Sofia reaches Dad. I roll my eyes, leaning against the wall. The priest guy starts talking, blah blah, love, forever. I tune it out, staring at the floor. My boots scuff the marble, quieter than the whispers around me. People are watching Dad like he's some king. They don't know what I know, how he smiles when he breaks someone, how his hands are never clean. I've seen it too many times. I'm done with it.
Sofia's giggling again, loud and annoying. Dad takes her hand, his voice booming over the room. "I promise to protect you," he says, all serious. Protect her? I snort. He's the danger. I glance up, ready to tune out again, when the doors creak open. Someone's late. Heads turn, but I don't care, until I see her.
Izzy. My Izzy? She's walking in, stiff as a board, her black dress hugging her tight. Her hair's messy, her boots loud on the floor. My heart stops. What the hell? She's here, here, at Dad's wedding? I blink, thinking I'm seeing things, but it's her, those sharp eyes, that pissed-off look she gets when she's mad. She hasn't seen me yet, scanning the room like she's about to bolt.
My chest tightens. Why's she here? She didn't say anything about a wedding. Last night, she was all over me, laughing, kissing, making it official. She didn't mention this. I didn't either. I didn't want her knowing about Dad, about this life. But now she's walking toward the aisle, and I can't breathe. Something's wrong. Really wrong.
The priest keeps going, but I don't hear it. Izzy stops, her gaze flicking up, and then it hits, her eyes lock on mine. Pure shock slams into me, mirrored on her face. Her mouth drops open, and I feel it too, like a punch to the gut. She knows Dad? How? My brain scrambles, pieces crashing together too fast. Sofia's her mom. Sofia's marrying Dad. That makes Izzy...
No. No way. My girlfriend's my step-sister? My knees wobble, but I don't move. She's frozen too, staring at me like I'm a ghost. The room spins, Dad's voice a dull roar in my ears. "I take you, Sofia," he's saying, but all I see is Izzy, pale and wide-eyed across the aisle.
Her mom's giggling stops. She's holding Dad's hand, smiling up at him, clueless. The crowd claps, but it's just noise. Izzy's here, my Izzy, and she's Sofia's daughter. My head's pounding, heart racing. Last night, she was mine, official, real. Now she's family? Dad's family? The kind he controls, the kind he'd kill to keep in line? I can't think straight.
She takes a step back, like she's gonna run. I want to grab her, yell, figure this out, but I can't, not here, not with everyone watching. Dad's finishing his vows, loud and proud, and I'm stuck, staring at her. She's staring back, her face white, her hands shaking. We're trapped in this moment, and it's all falling apart.
I mouth the words before I can stop myself: "What are you doing here?" My voice doesn't carry, but she sees it, her lips trembling. Dad's voice booms, "To have and to hold," and she mouths back, "You?" Her eyes are huge, scared, and I feel it too. Shock. Pure, cold shock.
The crowd cheers, but I don't hear it. Izzy's my step-sister. My girlfriend is now my step-sister. And Dad's vows are sealing it, locking us into something we can't escape.