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Vilfredo ‘The Fat’ Di Cello
Adan Bellantoni
Italo Coppock
The New York families love to stick their noses into Chicago Outfit business. Adan Bellantoni wants Paul Jr. to be capo because of the arranged marriage between Paul Jr., and Adan’s daughter, Gia – A New York mafia princess. Gia wanted to marry me, but she got Paul instead. I refused to marry that bitch. Since Paul Jr. is the oldest of my father’s three sons, it is tradition that Paul should have been made capo when my father retired. My father chose me because he did not think Paul Jr. was ready.
Sico Signor wants Paul Jr. to be capo because I did not marry one of his Signor’s daughters. He holds a grudge.
Both Adan and Sico think I am too young and progressive to be capo. They prefer the old ways of doing things. Even though everyone profits from my heroin/pizza scheme.
The Di Cello family is neutral and don’t involve themselves in Chicago Outfit business.
The other two families, the Coppocks and the Gaitos, are happy with me being Capo of the Outfit. Italo Coppock and Adeodato ‘Angel’ Gaito are long-time friends of my father’s.
The New York and Chicago Bratvas know the five mafia families of New York are split over me being capo. The Russians see this split as an opportunity to cripple the Outfit and take over Chicago.
I either have to take out the Antonovich brothers or convince the Bellantoni’s and the Signor’s to accept me as capo. Gia Bellantoni will not rest until her husband, Paul Jr., is capo of the Chicago Outfit. She wants to be a capo’s wife. Fuck. I am caught between a rock and a hard place. It will be easier to take out the Antonovich brothers than please New York!
Four Weeks Later…
Gwen
My wedding day. My wedding gown is exquisite. A hair stylist and make-up artist have worked on me all morning in a guest bedroom in Paul Vincenzio’s sprawling suburban mansion. I look beautiful. The perfect bride. I am marrying a stranger.
My father holds out his arm. He looks handsome in his black tuxedo. I put my arm through his. He leads me out of the bedroom, and down the huge staircase. I hope I don’t trip and fall.
Nervous. I clutch my father’s arm. I haven’t seen Bobby Vincenzio since the night he rescued me.
My father and I walk on the white runner covering the green grass in the spacious backyard. Paul’s backyard is decorated with red roses, a wooden dance floor, and several tables with white tablecloths.
A three-piece orchestra is playing the wedding march. All the guests stand up from white chairs on each side of the make-shift aisle, turn around and watch me. I do not know any of them. My father and I were not allowed to invite any of our family or friends for security reasons. The wedding is a secret. Security tight. Made men with guns stand all over the Vincenzio mansion and grounds.
Bobby
Fuck! I am getting married. I can’t believe it. At least it is a beautiful day. Blue sky. Sun shining. Birds singing. I glance at my father. He looks happy.
The orchestra plays the wedding march, I see my bride walking down the white runner on the green lawn. She looks smaller than I remembered. 5’4” tall. Petite. I am a foot taller.
Gwen’s natural hair color is the perfect shade of blonde, not to silver, not too yellow. She walks gracefully on her father’s arm. Her wedding gown exquisite. The gown fits her like a glove – showing a hint of cleavage. She has a beautiful body. Hourglass figure. Curvy in all the right places. Flat stomach. She looks like a centerfold with the face of an angel.
And those tits? Amazing. Luscious. They are bouncing as she walks down the aisle! I never cared about the size of a woman’s chest before now. That skintight lacy wedding gown really shows off her big tits – I cannot wait to unwrap them.
Vanessa did a magnificent job with the gown. I will have to thank her personally. Very personally. Maybe I will fuck Vanessa in a bed this time.
Gwen
I look at a small alter where the minister is standing with the groom, Bobby Vincenzio. My future husband is staring at me.
I gasp.
“Are you alright darling?” My father asks.
“Yes. Just nervous.”
Bobby Vincenzio stands at altar watching me. He is movie star handsome. His jet-black tuxedo fits him perfectly. Tall 6’4”. Muscular. Perfect posture. Confident. Masculine. Powerful. Deep brown hair unkempt, like a lover just ran her hands through it. Smoldering brown eyes. 5:00 shadow. He is more handsome than I remember.Don’t swoon.He is not smiling. His resting face is a scowl. He looks sinister, almost broody.
Bobby’s big hands are clenched at his sides. He could crush me with one hand.
