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Chapter 1
Christiano
I'm still in shock about this marriage: shock that my cousin is finally settling down, and also that Aroldo isn't kicking off about the fact Salvo is no longer betrothed to Marietta. Not that any of us actually believed a wedding would take place.
I smirk to myself. Marietta is known in the family asragazza cavalla, or horse girl. I feel sorry for the poor fuck who ends up shackled to thatbrutta cagna. Not only is she ugly on the outside but she's also ugly on the inside. I've witnessed the way she speaks to the house staff; she treats them like dirt.
With a glass of bourbon in my hand, I make my way across the lawn, searching for my asshole brother. Romanowas supposed to be here an hour ago. His absence hasn't gone unnoticed. I can see Salvo gritting his teeth from here, glancing at his watch while the priest wrings his hands.
Thalia seems unconcerned. She's too busy chatting happily with her friend, the curvy girl with startling blue hair. I stop for a moment, watching the two of them. There's a lot of animated arm waving from the girl with the blue hair. She reminds me of a pixie from one of the games Romano likes to play: all boobs and butt.
I smile in appreciation just as Thalia turns and catches me ogling her friend. Thalia scowls, which tells me the pixie girl is off-limits. Not that she seems interested in me anyway. She's not spared me a second glance since she arrived.
"Where's Romano?" Salvatore snaps when I reach the group. Aroldo grumbles with irritation.
"He messaged me to say he was on his way. Something came up."
"His dick?" Thalia asks sweetly. Pixie girl snorts with laughter and the priest flushes an unbecoming red.
"Watch your mouth, girl," Aroldo growls, but Thalia just grins.
"Sure thing, Pops." She blows him a kiss while Salvatore rolls his eyes affectionately. "Just saying what we're all thinking."
Aroldo grumbles some more but doesn't say another word as he spots Aunt Lucia heading over the lawn toward us. Lucia loves Thalia like the daughter she always wanted, so he knows better than to get grumpy with her. Aroldo might be the head of the Miami mafia, but Lucia is the boss of him.
Thalia's right about Romano, of course. He went home with some dancer last night, one of the new girls from the club he manages. Theidiotacan't seem to draw a line between business and pleasure. He treats the club like his own personal candy shop. Not that the girls complain. They all love him and the copious amounts of cash he splashes around. I just wish he'd take the business more seriously, he's nearly 30 for fuck's sake.
But I push these thoughts down as I look at my phone and wait for this stupid wedding rehearsal to get started. Thankfully, ten minutes later, Romano finally shows up, his hair all over the place and stinking of booze and perfume. The fucker is probably still drunk. It doesn't look like he's even showered.
"Hello, ladies!" He grins at Thalia and casts an appreciative eye over Cara, but she nods politely and turns away. I see the slight frown on his face at the apparent snub and inwardly smirk. Good to know some women are immune to my brother's questionable charms.
"Well, now everyone is here, let's get the rehearsal started, shall we?" the priest says with a bright smile. Hallelujah. Once we're done here, I can grab some brunch and get backto work. I shove my phone in my pocket and listen to who's standing where. When I glance up, Cara is watching me. She blushes and looks away when she realizes she's been busted.
It seems my interest is not one-sided.
Chapter 2
Cara
If anyone had told me a year ago that I'd be attending a mafia wedding, where my best friend Thalia was getting hitched to a dangerously sexy, tattooed hunk of burning love, I'd have slapped them around the face with a wet fish. Well, not literally, you understand. But still. Not even Mystic Meg could have predicted this chain of events.
The ceremony is over and we're watching the happy couple take a spin around the dance floor. The two of them are so disgustingly in love I have tears in my eyes. I'm a romantic at heart, and it slays me to see my girl so happy. She deserves this after all the shit she endured growing up.
The fact she had no relatives to see her get wed was kind of sad, but also a relief. I can't imagine what kind of horror show it would have been if her mom had still been alive instead of six feet under thanks to a bad batch of meth. I shudder at the thought.
The back of my neck prickles. Someone is watching me. I surreptitiously wipe a tear away and spin around, hoping it's not the creepy uncle leering at me again. That guy is skeevy as fuck.
But no, it's Salvatore's cousin; the hot one, not creepy uncle. We lock eyes, his lips quirk up, and then he turns and walks away. I'm a bit disappointed. I was hoping he might ask me to dance or something, but that's OK, I don't need a partner. Once the dance floor opens up, I can dance on my own. This girl has moves and the seven vodka tonics I've downed in the last two hours have gone alongway to killing any inhibitions I might have had.
Alcohol for the win.
Yay me.
???
The next time I see Christiano, he's talking to a stunningly beautiful brunette with glossy red lips and a figure I'd kill for. Whereas I'm vertically challenged, this woman is tall and sleek, like a Russian supermodel. Judging by how close the two ofthem are, it's obvious they have some kind of relationship, and definitely not a platonic one.
Disappointment creeps up my gullet, leaving a nasty taste in my mouth, but I'm not going to let it ruin my evening. Thanks to Salvatore's generosity, everything here is free, and the night is still young.
