Her mother intercepted her, but Gianna shook her head. “Don’t, Mamma. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
“It is bad luck,” Elia protested. “You must wait until after you exchange your vows. Look, your babbo is here. The ceremony is about to begin. It’s time for me to take my seat in the church.”
Gianna shook her head. “This won’t wait. I have to talk to Constantine now. Before the wedding.”
Elia turned to her husband. “Alessandro,” she called, a hint of desperation slipping into her voice. “Come speak to your daughter.”
Before he could, Gianna escaped the bride’s room. Her mother followed, the rest of the women on her heels. Gianna found Constantine’s room without any difficulty. The door stood open. Masculine laughter erupted from inside, the sound dying the instant they caught sight of her standing in the doorway.
Constantine stood, eyeing her in concern. “Piccola? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
“I need to talk to you. It’s important.” She spared her brothers and cousins a swift look. She’d rather they not hear this next part. “Would you excuse us, please?”
They didn’t want to leave. But they did it for her. One by one they filed from the room.
“Dio, look at you,” Constantine murmured. “Words fail me.”
Tears misted her eyes and her chin quivered. “You look pretty fine, yourself.”
He must have sensed her panic because he stilled. “What’s going on?” he asked sharply. “Why are you here?”
“I love you. I just need to tell you that first.”
His expression relaxed and he closed the distance between them. He started to reach for her, then paused. “I’m afraid to touch you.” Gently he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
She closed her eyes. He still hadn’t said the words, which made her decision so much easier. “I need to do something for you, before we marry.”
“I don’t understand. Do what?” He glanced briefly at the closed door. “Are you sure this can’t wait?” he asked.
Almost. Almost she grabbed the lifeline. But she’d faced all of her other fears. She’d face this one, too. “No, this can’t wait.” She held out her hands. She could see they trembled, the fire diamond on her engagement ring flashing in agitation. “Give me your hand. Your right hand.” The Infernoed hand.
His confusion threatened to break her heart, especially when she knew he didn’t suspect what she was about to do. She took his strong, warm hand between her freezing ones. It took every ounce of determination she possessed to say the words that had to be spoken.
“I release you,” she told him, her voice trembling. She had a vague recollection of her uncle saying it three times. Third time’s the charm? Just in case, she added, “I release you. I release you.”
He must have begun to suspect something. “What have you done, Gianna?” he demanded.
The breath shuddered from her lungs. “I’ve just released you from The Inferno.”
“You’ve what?”
Tears spilled over. “I’ve released you.”
“No.” He jerked his hand free of hers. “No, you have not done this to us. Give it back!”
Her face crumpled. “I don’t think I can.”
Constantine strode to the door, flinging it open. “Get Primo. Now.” He slammed the door closed and turned to confront her. “Why would you do this to us, Gianna? Why try to destroy what we have, today of all days?”
She sank onto a footstool and bowed her head. Her dress pooled around her and she ran shaking fingers over the beautiful antique lace. Such a gorgeous gown meant for such a happy occasion. And look what she’d done to it. To them.
Slowly she lifted her eyes, forcing herself to meet Constantine’s infuriated gaze. “I did it because you’re not the only one who believes in honor. I refuse to use The Inferno to force you to the altar. I want you to marry me because you love me, not because you have no other choice. You said yourself that you didn’t like having the control taken away from you. You’ve even referred to The Inferno as an infection. All I’ve done is return your control, cured your infection.”