Chapter 8
Santino
“Hey, brother.”
Emilio slaps my back and grins at me in the mirror. “Nervous?”
“No.”
I adjust my cufflinks, making sure the Antonucci crest is straight and not upside down. They were a gift from my grandfather when he passed the title of Boss over to me. He told me to always remember why we do what we do and who we do it for. The family. Family always comes first, and every decision I make will be for the Antonucci legacy, not myself.
What he doesn’t know, and what no one else in my family knows, is that I made Mia my own personal requirement. I could’ve brokered a deal with Leo for our trucks that would’ve been lucrative for my family without involving Mia or marriage, but if I’m allowed one selfish choice in this life I was born into, then I want it to be making Mia Carfano my wife. If she ever came to realize what a weakness she already is for me, then she’d know it’d be me on my knees for her, begging for another taste, and not the other way around.
I pat my chest over the spot where her ripped panties from the club are tucked away in a pocket. Her scent still clings to the fabric and has been keeping me company while away from her.
“If you change your mind, I can always step in and marry her,”
my other brother, Alberto, offers, stepping up and slapping my shoulder from the other side.
“Not a fucking chance in hell,”
I all but growl like a caveman.
His knowing grin has me wishing I could knock it off his face, but I don’t think Mia wants a groomsman with a busted and bloody lip in our wedding photos.
I don’t give a shit, but I want her to have everything she wants today. I’ve been in contact with the wedding planner, making sure she was giving Mia everything she wanted, including this venue. The Swan Club is on Long Island, and the property has a lake and small waterways with gardens woven all around. The planner told me Mia fell in love with it when she showed her a book of venues, but it’s always booked out years in advance.
I, of course, took that as a personal challenge, and with a single phone call and a wire transfer of an amount the couple that was booked for today couldn’t refuse, I got my girl what she wanted. I made sure the planner told Mia that the previous booking simply fell through, though.
I know today is more important than she’ll ever know or admit, because she’s only getting one wedding in her life, and it’s today, to me. The only way she’ll get rid of me is if I’m dead and buried, because I sure as fuck am never letting her go willingly once I slip my ring on her finger.
“You actually like her?”
Emilio asks. “I thought this was just a business deal?”
“It is.”
I don’t know why, but I don’t want my brothers knowing how much I want Mia. I don’t want them to see me as anything but their reliable older brother who’s always done what’s needed for them. They don’t know the shit I put up with so they didn’t have to, and they never will.
“Could’ve fooled me with that reaction,”
he says smugly.
“Besides, why else would she marry your old ass if not because she had to?”
Albie asks, the little shit.
I raise my eyebrows. “Old?”
“She’s what? 20? She can’t even drink yet and you’ve been able to drink for thirteen years.”
“And?”
“And that means you’re fourteen years older than her, Santino. I’m only five years older than her, so I should take your place. You wouldn’t understand how to treat a pretty little thing like her. You haven’t had to win over an innocent woman in a long, long time.”
“If either of you offer to marry her instead of me one more time, I’m going to knock you the fuck out.”
“Damn, brother, we’re just messing with you.”
Emilio shakes his head and grips my shoulder. “Lighten up.”
“He can’t,”
Albie says. “He’s about to hand his balls over to a girl who can’t even legally drink yet. Which is a shame, since I’m guessing drinking is the only way she’s going to get through today.”
“Shut the fuck up, please.”
“I think you need a drink. Time for a toast.”
Albie walks over to the wet bar that’s in my groom’s suite here at The Swan Club, and pours out three glasses of whiskey. “To Santino.” He passes Emilio and me our glasses and raises his. “May your marriage turn out to be more than business because you deserve to be happy.”
“I second that,”
Emilio adds, raising his glass.
We’re not the sentimental or sappy kind, but I love my brothers and I know they love me, too. I raise my glass and we clink them together.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
* * * *
Standing at the altar with my brothers beside me, I look out at everyone who’s about to witness my nuptials.
My mother is sitting with my grandfather in the front row, and she smiles at me through her usual stoic expression, while my grandfather looks at me with a mix of pride and apprehension. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I know he trusts me to make the right choices for our family.
Behind them is a sea of my extended family, and across the aisle are the Carfanos in all their glory, staring me down like I’m the enemy and not the one marrying one of their own.
Weddings are neutral ground in our world, and occasions to be celebrated out of respect. So, sitting in attendance beyond both of our families are men and women from the other two families still in power – Melcciona and Capriglione – and high-ranking members from the New York factions of the Bratva, Triads, Yakuza, and Armenian and Irish mobs.
Sitting amongst them are the corrupt politicians, police chiefs and officers, business owners and CEOs, and even the goddamn mayor of New York City are all here. Security couldn’t be tighter if the fucking President of the United States was in attendance.
The second the music changes, I stand up straighter and keep my eyes trained on the French doors that will have my bride emerging from in a few minutes.
From my calls with the wedding planner, I know Mia is only having her cousins as her bridesmaids, and first to walk down the aisle ironically, is Katarina. She’s beautiful, but I know I never would have been happy with her. Because even if she wasn’t in love with Dante and we did get married to join the families, I still would’ve seen Mia at our wedding, and with one look at her, I would’ve known the colossal fuck-up I was making.
Next down the aisle is either Aria or Gia. I can’t tell the twins apart as I’ve never formally met them or had the opportunity to come to know their differences. The second twin walks down behind her, followed by her last cousin, Elena.
Each one takes their place beside the floral archway that makes up the altar, but I keep my eyes trained on the French doors.
I clasp my hands together in front of me, not knowing what to do with them and needing to hide the fact that I’m unwillingly nervous. I’m nervous she won’t walk through those doors or go through with the wedding. I’m nervous she’ll look at me with hatred in her eyes and not the white-hot desire she gave me in the club. I’m nervous someone in this fucking crowd will stand up and object when asked just to humiliate me and my family. I’m nervous Mia won’t ever forgive me for making her do this.
Fuck, I sound like a pussy.
But no one, not even Mia, is going to stop this wedding from happening. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want her, and she’ll come to realize that I’m hers as much as she’s mine.
Why is it taking so long for her come out?
Did she run?
Is she freaking out in there?
Fuck, I shouldn’t have given her these two weeks by herself. I thought space would help her, but now I’m second guessing that decision.
I’m about to make a move to go and get my bride and walk her down the aisle myself, but then the doors open, and I’m back to being glued to where I stand.
Holy shit.
Fuck me.
I don’t deserve her. Which is exactly why I’m taking her, because I’ll never deserve her.
Mia stands frozen in the doorway, with Nico and Vinny on either side of her. She takes a deep breath and her brothers lean in and say something to her, and then they all step forward.
Her head turns in either direction to take in everyone in attendance, and I catch the moment panic sets in, but then her eyes finally find mine, and I will her to keep them on me.
My chest fucking hurts, my heart pounding harder with every step closer she gets.
She’s a goddamn angel, covered in pearls.
Our eyes remain locked on the other’s, and I will time to speed up so I can finally touch her again, hear her say ‘I do’, and then kiss her until she can’t remember why she was against marrying me. I want to feel her give in to me again, even if it’s just a sliver of her defenses coming down. Everyone here will know she’s fucking mine.
Mia and her brothers take the final step up to the altar and Nico and Vinny take turns kissing her cheek before Nico places Mia’s hand in my waiting one. The second her hand is in mine, I feel a bolt of electricity zap up my arm and go straight to my heart, and by the whisper of a gasp she makes, I know she feels it too.
I told you, farfalla.
I give Nico and Vinny small nods of appreciation, and they give me nothing in return, telling me all I need to know.
I guide Mia to stand in front of me and take her other hand, rubbing my thumbs back and forth over the backs of her hands. Her beautiful burnt honey eyes begin to soften the longer I caress her, and the ache in my chest lessens like she’s my balm as much as I’m hers.
I can’t see or hear anyone else besides Mia and the officiant as he starts the ceremony.
When it’s time for our vows, I regretfully pull one of my hands from hers to get her rings from my pocket. I haven’t gotten to give her an engagement ring yet, so I slide her wedding band on first, and then her engagement ring, and I love the little gasp she makes when she sees it.
Fuck, she’ll probably make the same sound when I slip the tip of my cock inside her for the first time – surprised by my size and wondering if I’m going to fit.
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her rings. Her pupils dilate and she bites her plump lower lip, a beautiful pink flushing her cheeks.
I hand her my platinum band and she slides it into place on my finger, the slight tremor in her hands not escaping me as she says her vows. They sound like heaven leaving her lips while mine felt like the greatest honor leaving mine.
Caught up in the moment, she rubs her thumb over the shiny metal that I never want to take off, and this time I can’t resist lifting my hand to brush the backs of my knuckles over her soft cheeks to feel her blush.
Mia’s eyes fly back up to mine and they’re filled with confusion, anger, and something else, but she puts up her defenses before I can get a good read on her. I have another way of finding out how she’s feeling, though, because the second the officiant pronounces us man and wife, I barely wait for him to tell me I can now kiss my bride before my lips are on hers.
I kiss Mia with over two weeks’ worth of pent-up longing to taste her again. Cupping the side of her neck, I keep her exactly where I want her, and it only takes a moment for her to melt into the kiss.
Fuck, she’s the one.
I’ve never kissed a woman who tastes as good as she does, who makes my body rock-hard in an instant, or has made my heart race like it wants out of my chest and into hers.
I swipe my tongue across the seam of her lips just to tease her and then reluctantly pull away, remembering we have quite a large audience watching me kiss my new bride.
It’s the last sweet taste of her I’ll get, too, until she asks me for another. But the glazed over look to her eyes and the flush to her cheeks and neck has me believing I won’t have to wait too long for that request.
“I missed your taste, Mia,”
I whisper, and smile when I feel the tremor that runs through her. “And not just your sweet mouth.” She inhales a sharp breath and I kiss her cheek.
Pulling back, I smile at our guests as they clap for us, and take Mia’s arm to walk us back down the aisle.
Bride and groom.
Husband and wife.
Together.
Mine.