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I snapped my attention away from Uncle Paolo and onto the aisle that ran through the center of the church. People stood, their gazes veering to the doors as they opened.
And then she walked in.
I couldn’t help but quirk my lips at the simple off-white dress. The closer she got, the more I saw the lace detail, and I knew the women of the family wouldn’t have approved this. Tradition was to get married in white, but she was bucking it. I reasoned that she should have had some control. After all, this wasn’t a real marriage. It was a union made out of necessity, one she didn’t really have a choice in. So, I didn’t think too much about her breaking the tradition. I let it slip away, deciding I had bigger problems than the damn color of her dress.
She turned to face her dad when she was a couple of feet away, whispering something to him, and then she was standing opposite me, her small smile making me feel uneasy.
I had to do this. I had to marry her; otherwise, I wouldn’t be the boss. I repeated those words over and over in my mind, needing them to solidify why we were doing this.
The priest started talking, but I didn’t take in a single word, not when he spoke of the promises we would make each other, and not when he spoke to all the guests. It whizzed by in a flurry, and then he told me to repeat after him. My laser focus zoomed in on Aida. Her dark hair was curled, partly down and whispering on her shoulders. She was beautiful, that was undeniable, but she wasn’t for me. She’d never be for me. It didn’t stop me spewing the vows, promising her things I had no right to promise. Because I would break every single one of them. I knew that. People closest to me knew that. But I wondered if she did.
Did she truly know what she was getting herself into? Or had I depicted an image that would never be a reality?
It was too late now, though. Because as I slipped the black wedding ring onto her finger, and she to mine in return, the vows were sealed.
I was married. Married when I had no intention of seeing her as my wife.
Cheers rang out, and the priest told me I could kiss the bride. I leaned forward, taking in a deep lungful of air and letting her rose scent flow through me. It was delicate, not too overpowering, but not too subtle. It was there, enticing me, telling me to come closer.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she whispered, her gaze capturing mine. I didn’t answer her as I placed a soft kiss on her lips, then grasped her hand in mine. Now wasn’t the time for words. It was time for putting on a show. Time to appear like this wasn’t one big fuckin’ lie.
Because that was what it was.
A lie.
A lie I was already beginning to regret, but a lie I couldn’t go back on—not now. Not now that I had all the power of the underground. I’d just been crowned the king, but I’d also been deemed a husband.
Fuck.
I veered Aida down the aisle, trying to keep the smile on my face and act like I was happy. And I was. I was happy that all the uncertainty in the business was now gone. Happy that I could finally have the final fuckin’ say.
“Lorenzo,” Aida gasped. “Slow down. My legs aren’t as long as yours.”
I grunted as I gripped her hand harder, trying to silently tell her to hurry up. We had a party to get to, and then my work would get started. Why the hell did people have parties after weddings? The ceremony should have been enough to satisfy, but Ma wasn’t hearing a single word about it.
So off we went, in the back of the SUV Christian drove, and to the mansion. The place I now called home. The place Aida would call home.
I slid over the back seat, trying to get as far from Aida as I could. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything, and the thought sent a thrill through me. I’d made the right choice with her. She’d be a good Italian wife and keep her mouth shut, so I could handle the business I’d been trained to take over.
The drive was only a few minutes, and then we were pulling into the sprawling driveway. She gasped beside me; her face nearly pressed against the closed window. She’d been here before, but with quick clarity, I realized she’d probably only ever come through the delivery entrance and into the kitchen.
“This is where you live?” she asked, her voice small.
“Yeah.” I typed off a quick message to one of the captains, then stowed my cell away. “You live here now too.”
“With you.”
“And Ma.” I pulled the handle on the door. “As well as Dante and Sofia.” I pushed out of the back of the SUV and made my way around the back, staring up at the mansion and trying to imagine it through new eyes, but it was impossible because it was all I was used to.
A throat cleared, so I snapped my head toward it. “You forgetting something?” Christian asked, raising his brows. When I didn’t answer, he pointed toward the back door of the SUV. “Your wife.”
Fuck.
I sneered and darted toward her side of the car, then opened the door. “Thank you,” she said, her gaze not quite meeting mine. I grunted in reply, not expecting anything else to come from her, so when she asked, “Who are Dante and Sofia?” I puffed out a breath.
“My brother and sister.” I signaled my hand toward the house. “Shall we go in?”
