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His expression was stoic when he kissed Aria’s hand, breaking protocol by greeting her first and not me. I regarded him closely, my eyes narrowing. When he finally stepped up to me, our gazes locked, and the same wariness I felt reflected in his eyes. This marriage was supposed to ensure peace, but neither Dante nor I trusted this fragile truce. “Congratulations on your marriage,” he said emotionlessly.
“Thank you for giving me the Outfit’s most beautiful woman, considering you are in need of a wife as well.” Something feral flashed in Dante’s eyes, but it wasn’t the only emotion my words had summoned. There had been a flicker of sorrow and pain in his expression before the cold mask had returned. Dante missed his dead wife. The realization surprised me. I filed it away for possible later use. My father hadn’t waited long to marry Nina once my mother was dead. Women were replaceable pleasure objects for him.
“My son has peculiar tastes when it comes to his next wife,” Fiore butted in, stepping up beside his son.
I didn’t say anything. Dante’s eyes were already murderous and, while I would have enjoyed killing him and every Outfit fucker in the room, a wedding wasn’t the right place or time. Mrs. Cavallaro waited with a pinched expression beside her husband and son. She barely talked. Maybe Fiore forbade her.
My eyes darted to Aria who stood with her hands folded before her stomach. Her expression reflected polite interest and fake happiness, but I could see the myriad of darker emotions lurking beneath her outward mask. Would she be like her mother, Nina, or Mrs. Cavallaro soon? Would I break her?
She didn’t glance my way, but I was sure she noticed my gaze.
After her cousin Bibiana had talked to Aria, and I to her old fat husband, my wife’s demeanor changed. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but she kept risking peeks at me. I was talking to one of my captains when Aria watched me again, and I finally turned to meet her gaze. In it I saw curiosity and a flicker of hope. The latter was even more deadly than the former in our world.
Then a bright red dress and patent red leather heels caught my attention. My eyes returned to the line of well-wishers, and a curse died on my tongue.
Senator Parker and his family. I barely paid attention to the man whose campaigns we paid or his equally ambitious son who was also on our payroll. Behind them stood the last person I wanted to see at my wedding: Grace.
I was pretty sure she had been sewn into her fucking dress. I shook her father’s and brother’s hands before she stepped up to me. Senator Parker sent her a warning look, which Grace ignored like she always ignored sensible advice.
“Congrats, Luca,” she said, her eyes practically trying to fuck me. If she didn’t stop it soon, I’d have to throw her out.
“Grace,” I said in a bored voice.
She stepped very close, closer than was proper, and I would have shoved her away if it hadn’t caused a big scene.
“I’m so fucking wet for your cock, Luca. I want to taste your cum in my mouth,” she purred into my ear. “Perhaps you’ll think of me tonight when you fuck your little boring wife. She won’t be half as good as I am.”
I kept my face neutral, even if my blood boiled with fury. I doubted that had been Grace’s fucking intention. Did she really believe I’d think of her when I was with Aria?
Aria was gorgeous. She was honorable. She was my wife.
Grace was nothing.
Of course, Aria wouldn’t blow my mind with her skills. She had never been with anyone, but I’d teach her. Fuck, I couldn’t wait to do it.
Then Grace actually hugged Aria and, when she pulled back, Aria looked as if she was going to be sick. What the fuck had Grace told her? She was a fucking backstabbing creature.
I reached for Aria’s hand and she flinched so violently that I knew Grace must have divulged one of our harder adventures. As if I’d treat Aria as I treated Grace. That whore should have never been invited. My fucking father had probably done it on purpose to mess with me.
When the ordeal was over and we finally moved toward the tables, I almost groaned in relief. I wished I knew what was going on in Aria’s head, but she wasn’t even looking my way, intent on pretending I wasn’t there, even though I held her hand. “You can’t ignore me forever, Aria. We’re married now.”
‘Bacio, Bacio’-cries rose from the crowd when we were about to sit down. Aria was still frozen at my side. Stifling my annoyance, I pulled her against me and kissed her again. I wanted nothing more than to deepen the kiss, to claim that sweet mouth, but I knew she would have hated to experience a more intimate kiss in front of so many people. She was already fucking embarrassed by the kiss we’d just shared, and that was tame.
