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Sophia
Istand in the center of the room, the oversized robe I was provided hanging off one of my shoulders. In front of me are five women, each holding a couple of dresses out for me to look at. All of them more gorgeous than the next.
“You pick one,” Carlotta tells me, motioning with her hand. When we first entered what I believed to be the master bedroom, Carlotta nudged me toward the bathroom to shower. I did as I was told. Old habits die hard, it would seem.
I could hear her on the phone calling dress stores, designers, and seamstresses. When I stepped out of the bathroom, it looked as though all of them had come running. Of course they did. I am the bride-to-be of the head of the Davinci family. There isn’t a designer crazy enough to turn this request down.
Pressing a hand to my cheek, I stare at the gowns as Carlotta fluffs their skirts. I think I’m still in shock that all of this is happening. I’d never met Nick Davinci before today. I’ve heard of him, mainly because my father hated him. If I had to guess why, I’d say it’s because Lorenzo fears him. That should scare me, but I’m less frightened by the idea of marrying Nick than I was when I woke up this morning thinking I had to spend the rest of my days with Antonio.
Should I be sad? I’m not. I feel no remorse over Nick killing Antonio. It put me in a position to be with a more powerful man--one that can protect me and Marco--that so far, has treated me with more respect than my own family ever has. Nick’s willingness to offer my brother protection is what made me agree to be his. His looks and my body’s attraction to him are an added bonus, and I wonder if this spark of heat can grow into something more. I’ve never really thought about love for myself. Not when I knew whatever marriage I had was going to be arranged for strategic purposes. But with Nick, it almost seems like anything is possible.
I still have to follow through with my vows. A safe harbor isn’t free, and it may seem as though I’m making the choice, but we all know the reality is that I don’t have one. Antonio has already faded into my past. Nick is my future.
“I can pick whichever one I want?” I look from the dresses to Carlotta. The woman has been sweet to me from the second I met her.
“Of course. It’s your wedding. Davinci said you could have whichever you wanted.”
I look back at the dresses. They’re all different versions of gorgeous. Some are simple with crystals that you can tell took someone hours to sew. There are long ones, short ones, and everything else in between. The lacework on a few of the pieces is breathtaking.
“Do you not like any of them? We can send for more.” Carlotta starts to pull her phone out.
“Is there really time for that?” I ask. It’s already getting late in the day, and I’m working on my second wedding. I want to get this over with. I tell myself it’s because I’m so done with this crap, but my head is still spinning from what Nick had whispered to me. I’d feared tonight when I woke up this morning, but now I’m wondering if sex with Nick will be anything like that kiss. That. Kiss. It was ... my mind blanks trying to find the right word for what it was.
Carlotta cuts off my train of thought. “This is your day. Everyone will wait until you are ready. Until you find the dress your heart desires. It’s what Davinci wants for you.” She smiles softly at me.
I noticed that Nick treats her with respect. My father never treated any women with respect. If you were female in my family, you were there to serve your purpose. I’d seen other powerful families treat their women differently, but in our house women didn’t have a say, and they did as they were told.
A smile tugs at my lips at the satisfaction I feel when I think of the anger that my father and grandfather must be experiencing tonight. Their grand plans to merge families with the Tuscanis had been ruined, and now I’ll sit at the head of the Davinci family. The only one they fear. The seamstresses still stand offering their dresses, their expectant eyes on me. Carlotta wasn’t kidding when she said everyone would wait for me. Everyone, though?
“Nick Davinci is a man that waits?” I ask.
If anyone can give me more on my husband-to-be, it’s Carlotta.
“Fair point.” She smirks. “For this, I think he will give a little extra time, but we should pick up the pace.”
Still, I keep staring at the dresses. It isn’t that I don’t like any of them, it’s that I’m used to people always telling me what I should wear. There was never a choice. I didn’t dare complain about something I was given unless I wanted to deal with my father.
“That one.” I point to the simplest of all the dresses. At least it looks that way. When the light hits it you can see all the small crystals that have been hand woven and run along the top of the dress. It is elegant, but not showy or over the top.
“The rest may go.” Carlotta motions for the other women to leave. The double doors to the bedroom open for them to exit. I notice two men in suits standing there. I only catch a glimpse of them before the doors close again.
“I don’t think you can wear a bra with this one but I did bring some undergarments,” the one woman left standing says, a hint of pride in her voice. I suppose it’s an honor to be chosen to serve the Davinci family. “I can make the alterations in no time so the gown fits you perfectly.”
She turns the dress, and my mouth drops open in surprise. There is practically no back to it. It’s stunning, but it might be a touch more dramatic than I thought. She walks over to the giant bed and lays the dress down before going back and grabbing a bag. She digs through it, pulling out new undergarments. I’m shocked for the second time in a matter of minutes. The garments consist of a ton of lace, and they aren’t simple in any way. They’re sexy. I feel my cheeks heat just from staring at the pieces.
“All of these?” If I get to pick--and it seems like I do--I’m definitely putting on all this lacy crap for Nick.
I’d made sure I didn’t wear anything that was even remotely sexy under my first wedding dress. I didn’t want to give Antonio the satisfaction. I wore the simplest white panties because I didn’t want to turn that man on. I can’t help but feel the opposite about Nick. I want him to undress me and find the present of my virginity to unwrap next. I slip the panties up my legs under the robe and attach the garters. I feel beautiful, like a woman. This is the first time in my life that I’ve ever felt that way. It’s the first time I’ve ever wanted someone to think I’m sexy. Butterflies fill my stomach as I wonder what Nick will think of me.
“Hair and makeup,” Carlotta calls out as the seamstress quickly takes my measurements. She rushes out with the gown, and again, the double doors open and two new women come in.
“Can I do my own?” I ask. I don’t want to be all done up again. I hated having makeup caked on my face and my hair concreted down with hairspray.
“Of course,” Carlotta says and turns to the women. “Leave your things for her to use. You can collect them later.”
They do as they’re told. Turning to me, she asks, “Will you need a few hours?”
I shake my head. “It won’t take me long.”
“You are such a dear.” Carlotta tilts her head to look me over. “Can I stay and assist you? Surely you’ll need help with the dress when the seamstress is done.”
My eyes dart toward the phone sitting on the nightstand. I’d noticed it when I’d come out of the bathroom. I wouldn't mind her staying, but I want to use that phone.
“You can use the phone, sweet girl.” She steps back, motioning toward it. “I would advise, though, that whether I’m here or not, whatever you say or use the phone for will reach Mr. Davinci’s ears.”
“Of course it will.” I fight not to roll my eyes, only because I don’t want to be rude to her. Nick is a boss; he knows everything that goes on under his roof. But he’s also different, I remind myself. I’m starting to let small things creep into my mind. Nick calling me his queen. Then letting me pick my gown. Him not telling me how I should dress or look.
My mind keeps trying to make him into something he’s not. It’s trying to make him into a good guy when I know better. I watched him murder someone merely hours ago. What if this is just a game to him? What if he’s giving me the illusion of having control over things to make me more docile? I hate how jaded that thought makes me feel. Besides, he didn’t need to go to these great lengths. I would be loyal to him for as long as he kept my brother safe. If he broke that vow, I would break ours in return, because then I’d have nothing to lose.
