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Nico immediately starts greeting people, some by their first name and some by their last. I assume he does this based on how long he’s known the people or the status of their business partnership.
He introduces me proudly, telling everyone I’m his bride. We’ve been married for a couple of months now, but it still feels like I’m his new bride. Although this time is different. This time, there’s no bitterness when he says bride or wife. Instead, there’s pride. I never thought there’d be a day we’d be this close, let alone in love.
My heart warms at the knowledge I have finally fallen in love. I was never in love with Damian, not even close. What I had with him was naïve, a twisted hope that he would help me get away from my family someday. And for him, I was his own personal sex tape for money. Little did I know fate would put me in the hands of the man on my arm. My husband.
I fell in love with the man I was forced to marry. The man I despised from the moment we laid eyes on each other. But under that dislike was his redemption and my salvation. Nico is going to protect me tonight, as well as protect the future of our children and his parents’ legacy, and his own.
All of these happy thoughts drain from me in an instant, when I see my father, mother, and two brothers. And they look at me with hate and dishonor. When really, the only dishonorable ones here are them. We are in a room filled with trained killers, surrounded by the most elite people in organized crime, and here I sit, knowing that the worst of them are the people who gave birth to me. Not because of what they can do, no. Because Nico could do far worse. They are the worst of the worst, because they turned their back on family, on blood, and that is the one thing in the mafia you’re supposed to honor the most—your flesh and blood.
“Nico,” I whisper in my husband’s ear, and he tells the gentleman he’s talking to to please excuse him.
“Yes, Emelia?” He looks at me, and with my eyes, I alert him to my parents’ presence. He follows my look, and his eyes land on my father. I wait for something to happen, for Nico to tense up or to react, but he stays eerily still until he gives my father a curt nod and leads us to our table.
“How are you so calm right now?“ I ask as he pulls out my seat.
“Does a lion pounce on his prey before the opportune moment?” he asks.
“No.”
“Exactly. For the last time, Emelia. This is what I do. I am known for my deadly ways for a reason. I can remain calm even outside the eye of the storm, wife.”
“You are annoyingly arrogant, and yet it’s somehow hot,” I tell him.
He smiles wide, showing his beautiful white teeth. It's the smile I rarely get to see.“Also another talent of mine. You’re welcome.” I’m about to make a smartass rebuttal, but the speaker cuts us off. The lights dim, and they begin.
“Familias, to see you all here in one place makes me so happy.” The man speaking is much older, short, balding, and has a really impressive mustache.
“Who is he?” I don’t recall his face from anywhere.
“He was the boss of the Chicago outfit. He retired, and his son took over. His name is Paolo Francesco.” I nod, and the guests begin to clap at something I missed, including Nico, so I follow suit. He goes on about the night, how we can donate to any of the charities we would like, and to enjoy the dinner and drinks prepared for us.
Nico and I eat our food, and he talks to the other guests at our table, but I stay to myself for the most part. Occasionally, I will smile, nod, and answer a question, but to be honest, I’m riddled with nerves and anxiety. I can feel my family watching me, but I don’t dare look back at them. If I tip them off, we’re screwed.
I came here to be with Nico, and I told him I would trust him. I will stick to the plan, and then all of this will be over soon.
“Nico?” I interrupt, saying sorry to the others at the table.
“Yes?”
“Would you like to dance with me?” I ask shyly for some reason. But I’ve never gotten to dance with Nico the way I wanted. When we danced at the wedding, all I wanted to do was knee him in the balls.
“Of course. Ladies, gentlemen, I owe my beautiful bride a dance tonight. It was good to talk to you again. We’ll speak soon.” He gestures to DeLuca, the man next to him, then stands and helps me out of my chair.
He moves us to the dance floor where the lovely band plays a melody that is slow and sensual. We get into position, and he takes the lead. He slowly moves me across the floor, and it's effortless. He's in control tonight; there’s not an ounce of weariness in his body.
I lean into that and let myself believe this is going to be okay. It has to. It just has to. We dance for two songs, until Giulio interrupts us. He whispers in Nico’s ear, and Nico doesn’t move his gaze from me, like he’s purposefully trying not to let his eyes wander. He pulls me in and dips down to my ear.
“I need to brief our men. Giulio said your family is leaving soon. Head to the bathroom. I will text you when we’re ready, then meet me at the entrance, and we will make our departure.”
I nod, and with that, I leave him and go in search of the bathroom. Finding it instantly, I step inside, and that’s when the anxiety really hits me. My stomach is churning. My mind is racing, and I’m starting to sweat. I have my hands braced on either side of the sink, and I drop my head between my shoulders, trying to compose myself and not succumb to vomiting.
“You okay?” a voice asks from the stalls behind me.
Peering up, I see a beautiful brunette. She has straight hair that slightly curls in at the ends, and she wears an emerald-green dress that compliments her eyes. Her body is sculpted like a model’s. I envy her beauty for a moment, but the anxiety overrides that brief lapse.
“Yes, I just had too much to drink tonight.” I fake a small laugh, and she laughs too, stepping up to the mirror next to me.
“Same here, and all the men have been ruthless tonight. Old pigs don’t know how to back off.” She pulls out some lipstick and starts to reapply the stunning red that enhances her plump lips.
