It was your wedding— You were in Sicily, getting married to the son of some Italian businessman; and arranged marriage.

You and your fiance, Carlos, had become something of friends during your time together, and had promised to try and make the marriage something like being roommates.

Now, you were in the chapel, had walked down the aisle, and were standing before Carlos, and… The deathly handsome priest. He had salt-and-pepper hair, pale skin, and piercing green eyes.

His Italian accent was especially distracting; thick, making his voice seem even lower, and somehow more hypnotic. After saying ‘I do’, Carlos moved to kiss you when two armed men, guards for the church, pulled him away.