So why the war of words between the groom and the intimidating uncle? The Gigioliotti family patriarch, dear Uncle Gino, was the last to find out about the match and was none too impressed that the union had not beenblessed by the church. It would seem notoriously dangerous Mafia men take their religion seriously. No judgement here; it’s all about balance. He demanded that his niece explain herself, and that her new husband do the honorable thing and ask him for his niece’s hand in marriage and that they re-do the vows in his presence—and God’s.
Raf Princi obliged, turning these nuptial celebrations into “I do” times two!
The smitten couple’s nearest and dearest gathered around them as the couple said their vows under the twinkling starlit Italian sky, a request from the bride, who lost her parents six years prior. There wasn’t a dry eye around as the couple confessed their love for one another. Once he kissed his bride, Raf turned to his new family—made up of Chiara’s Uncle Gino and his sons AJ and twins with model looks, Christian and Matteo—and made quick work of laying down the law.
“If we need your counsel we will seek it, but please understand this is the final time you have a say in Chiara’s life choices. She is my wife, and she only needs to answer to me now.”
Swoon. Melt. Puddle.
If someone can tell me where to find myself a husband like this, I’m all ears.
One more toast, then I think it may be time to switch to water.
Ciao for now.
XOXO,
GG
EPILOGUE ONE
Hey, Mama
RAF
Six weeks later
ThankGod it’s the weekend. After our impromptu vow renewal by starlight, we spent a few extra weeks in Italy so Chiara could show me around her favorite places and take me to where her parents have been laid to rest so she could introduce me. It sounds morbid, but it was extremely moving, and I wish I’d had a chance to meet them and tell them in person how much I adore their only daughter and how incredible I know she’s going to be as the mother of our children. Yep. We found out this week that we’re expecting twins—and today we’re going to announce our news to our family and cut cakes Chiara organized which are going to reveal their gender. I didn’t really care for the fuss, but Chiara wanted to do something fun and find out with everyone else seeing as most of our relationship has been shrouded in secrecy and very low-key for two people from extroverted families who love to celebrate anything with lavish fanfare.
Luca has a week off from racing, so he’s flying in for a quick visit, and AJ is also back in New York with his brothers Christian and Matteo who are here to discuss business opportunities with Marco and Seb, but we’ll dial in Chiara’s Uncle Gino a bit later. She’s been more tired than usual, and round-the-clock nausea some days makes it hard for her to function, but mostly she just looks fucking radiant. She’d disagree, but watching my wife’s belly and breasts bloom is one of the best things I’ve experienced in my life—not to mention, it makes it hard to concentrate on anything other than how I want to devour her.
Speaking of hard to concentrate, all thoughts flee my mind when I make it to the kitchen and find her barefoot, wearing one of my white button-down shirts. Her back is to me and the music, in true Chiara fashion, is so fucking loud that she doesn’t even know I’m there—a fact that gives way to unease, because I hate to think about danger lurking and her being completely oblivious.
I pull my thoughts back to the present, remembering “the danger” no longer exists, but you can never be too cautious—unfortunately our name makes us targets. I know thoughts like this sometimes plague my wife, so I make sure to keep my irrational ones under lock and key and be the voice of reason she needs because she’s spent enough of her life living in fear, and I promised her a different future, an existence filled with joy.
Work has been intense; the jury in Arty’s case handed down a guilty verdict, but the process of sentencing is long and arduous. Even with a sentencing hearing set, it’s likely the family will use their money and power to appeal. I intend on using every resource at our firm’s disposal to make sure that sick fuck gets the punishment he deserves. One bright spot out of everything is that Mia and Chiara have reconnected and she’ll be coming today. Given the highly publicized nature of the case and her family ties, I asked Marco to have Avery be her bodyguard.When my wife is not with me or at home, I have another one of Marco’s men accompany her. I might not share my fears with her, but there’s no price too great for peace of mind that my wife and babies are safe.
Chiara’s standing at the island, preparing some of her favorite dishes for our family dinner, my mom and Sophia agreeing to bring some too. There are a lot of mouths to feed and I insisted we get it catered, but neither my mother nor my wife would hear of it. They’ve formed a relationship that will never replace the one Chiara missed out on with her own mother, but it goes some way to being the next best thing as they bond over cooking, shopping, and the arts. I lean against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, just watching her as she dances and sings with abandon, pure joy radiating from the simple act of enjoying a feel-good song that makes you want to move to the beat. It’s her child-like innocence that I find endearing, the way small things like taking photos of interesting things she sees on her travels or selfies in the moment so she doesn’t forget all the things that bring her happiness. Though to be clear, I know full well all the not-so-innocent sides of my wife too. She’s the entire package. Sultry and sweet, demure and depraved, an addiction I’ll never be able to quit.
I take a moment to drink her in. Her dark hair is piled haphazardly atop her head, and the outline of her black lacy thong teases me from under my shirt with each sway of her hips as she rolls them to “Smooth” by Rob Thomas and Santana. In between humming, she sings the chorus, her moves getting more pronounced with each pass of the chorus. I can feel my cock swelling in my sweats, the sight of her in my shirt and the beckoning call of her now curvier body with each sway calling to me.She pauses to read the recipe on her iPad, moving gently to the last chords of the song.
When the song finishes, I clap slowly as I stalk towards her. She spins quickly, startled by my appearance.
“Raf! You scared Jesus, Mary, and Joseph outta me,” she says, slowly walking backwards as I press in closer.
“Sweetheart, I can tell you with complete faith, they would have all gotten the hell outta here months ago,” I say, closing the distance and grabbing the collar of my shirt and hauling her to me, noting she’s not wearing a bra, her heavy breasts outlined andher nipples peaked underneath. “And moving your beautiful curvy ass and gorgeous hips like that.” I punctuate the last two words by backing her up against the bench and pressing my body to her front while skimming my hands under the hem of the shirt to find the curve of her ass cheeks, grabbing them and hoisting her into my arms. Her eyes gleam with want, and she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.
“Hmmmm, good morning Daddy. Did you enjoy your sleep in?” she coos as I spin her around and walk us back over the kitchen island.
“Waking up would have been more fun if you were still there, Mama,” I say, nuzzling into her neck, clearing the space with little care of what I’m knocking over and placing her down gently on the bench top. I pull her right to the edge as I run my hands down her body, over her growing belly and along her inner thighs, spreading them wide.
“But you can make it up to me with breakfast,” I say with a wink, before kneeling in front of her, my face at eye level with her pussy.She scrapes her nails through my hair asI run a finger down the front of her lace panties, her arousal dancing in my nose and making my mouth water for a taste.
“Hmmmm. Already saturated for Daddy?”
Her breath hitches as I push the scrap of fabric away and run a finger through her wet slit. She keeps herself bare, and I fucking love that I can see every inch of her.
“Is your breakfast to your liking, sir?” she says on a breathy moan.
