Chapter 15
Mia
I wake to the morning light streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows and an empty other half of the bed. I know Santino slept in here with me though, based on the mussed sheets and blanket beside me.
I slept in the same bed with a man for the first time and I don’t even remember it. I really hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing like drool or snore or talk. I have no idea if I do any of those things on a nightly basis, and Aria and Gia have never said anything when I’ve stayed with them, but I still don’t know.
Okay, relax, Mia.
I look under the blanket. Yup, still naked.
He tucked me in after all of…that.
I don’t know what to do now. I’ve never felt anything as incredible as what I did last night, but what’s the protocol for the next morning. How do I act?
I don’t hear Santino in the room with me, so I quickly slip out of bed and dart into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me.
Oh, God.
What was I thinking last night?
I was caught up in the moment, that’s what it was. It was the wedding.
I don’t think clearly when I’m around Santino. He has a way of clouding my brain and my better judgement. Especially when he’s saying all those sweet and dirty things to me, and making promises that sound so damn good.
I’ve never had a man touch me the way he did. Kiss me the way he did. The way he knew exactly what I would need. He gave me more pleasure than I knew I could experience.
And he’s my husband.
I know how much he wants me, and if I wanted him to do that again, all I’d have to do is tease him a little bit and I’d have him begging on his knees again, but I shouldn’t do that.
I shouldn’t have let him to that to me last night as it is. Things went too far. Yeah, I got what I wanted from him, and made him see that he’s the one who’s going to be begging for what he wants, but this arrangement between us needs to be based on more than just our attraction to each other.
I can’t even look at myself in the mirror right now. I walk straight into the shower and scrub my skin under the scalding water until I feel clean again. Until I feel like myself again. I don’t know who this girl is that he’s turning me into. I like her and I hate her at the same time.
I robotically grab a bottle of shampoo, but when the familiar scent hits my nose, I look at the bottle more closely. It’s mine. It’s my shampoo, my conditioner, and my body wash all lined up on a shelf in the shower.
What the hell?
How did he know?
My God, he’s fucking crazy.
I look up at another shelf and see my facewash, too. I’m starting to think I married an insane person. Or a stalker of some kind. How else would he know?
I wash my face twice to make sure I get all my makeup off, and for a few minutes, I let the hot water beat down on me and let the steam envelope me until I realize I can’t stay in here forever.
I turn off the water and grab two towels from the shelf beside the shower, wrapping my hair in one and my body in another.
Damn it, I don’t have any clothes here. Just my wedding dress and lingerie, and fuck him if he thinks I’m putting either of those on again right now for him. I’ll just have to borrow something of his.
I scurry across the room to his massive closet, and stop short when I spot my suitcase from the hotel sitting in the middle of the floor. Oh, right, he said my things would be here waiting for me. I reach for it and then stop short.
I look to the right and see that the entire side of the closet is filled with my clothes from back home in my apartment.
How the hell did he get them here?
Who did he have going through my things?
My shoes, purses, clothes, everything…
My jewelry, perfumes, and makeup. They’re all here and organized in their own special places and on the small vanity in the corner.
This is all too much.
This visual.
His stuff on one side and mine on the other. It looks like we’ve been married for years.
It’s overwhelming and I have no idea what I’m doing. The first thing I need to do is get dressed, and I don’t want to set a precedent of dressing up for my husband like I’m some good little mob housewife, so instead, I put on a matching powder blue sweat set and a pair of my fuzzy slippers.
I go back into the bathroom, and of course, find all my haircare and skincare products in two of the drawers of the vanity. I detangle my hair first, and weave it into two French braids, and then go through my skincare routine before finally looking at myself in the mirror.
I’m the me I usually am most days. Simple, comfortable, and makeup free, and it brings me some semblance of comfort. Plus, I don’t need the armor of a designer outfit and makeup to go and yell at my new husband.
What is he going to do, divorce me? Oh, what a tragedy that would be.
I leave the bedroom and the smell of fresh coffee hits my nose from down the hall, and I let my feet carry me towards it.
“Good morning, my beautiful bride,”
Santino says from his spot perched on a stool around the kitchen island. He puts his newspaper down and takes a sip from his coffee cup. “You look beautiful this morning,” he tells me, his eyes trailing the length of my body and momentarily throwing me from my mission.
I stare at him, blinking, and then finally snap out of it. “How did you get all my things here? Why is my entire closet in your closet? Why do you have my shower products in your shower? My haircare? My skincare?”
“I had a few of my guys go to your apartment and pick it all up after you left for the hotel a couple days ago.”
“And who gave you the right to let random men touch my things? You realize whatever men you sent had to touch my bras and underwear, right?”
I place my hand on my hip and purse my lips in annoyance. “Did you think of that? That they got to see all my private things? While they were at it, I hope you told them to take my vibrator that was in my nightstand.”
He smirks at that like the arrogant asshole he is and takes another sip of his coffee. “Do you really think you’ll be needing that after last night? Has your vibrator ever gotten you off like that?”
“After last night, I’ll most definitely be needing it, because last night isn’t going to happen again. Last night was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”
Santino’s expression completely changes from cocky to emotionless. It’s like he’s able to wipe his face of emotion in a single flip of a switch. I’ve seen Leo do it before and it’s fucking creepy.
“Is that so? It was a mistake? It was a mistake to let your husband touch you?”
“Yes!”
I yell, throwing my hands in the air. “You’re only my husband because you forced me to marry you. So yes, it was a mistake to let you touch me. I must have had too much champagne to think clearly.”
“You weren’t drunk, Mia,”
he growls. “Don’t you fucking dare try to use that as an excuse. Do you think I’d take advantage of you like that? That’d be assault, Mia. And you know what? You could’ve said no to marrying me,” he counters, his voice low and controlled. “No one forced you. No one threatened you. It was an agreed upon arrangement.”
“You weren’t going to help my family unless I married you!”
I remind him loudly. “How was I supposed to say no?”
“You have free will. Your family would have figured it out. They just chose the faster and simpler route – you marrying me.”
“And now that I have, you seem to think you have this right to have me because you want me.”
“You want me too,”
he says, standing quickly, and knocking his stool back in the process.
Santino stalks towards me, closing the distance in a few strides. I continue to back up to keep the distance, but I eventually collide with the couch in the connected living room.
He crowds me but doesn’t touch me. “Don’t make me out to be a monster, Mia. You want me just as much as I want you. I’m just the one who has no problem admitting it. I have no problem telling you how beautiful you are. I have no problem telling you how no other woman I’ve ever been with has made me feel even an ounce of what I do when I’m with you. I have no problem telling you that when I kiss you, it feels like the fucking world stands still, then spins out of control.”
My heart is racing and I can’t look away from his eyes.
“I have no problem telling you that I want to know every single fucking thing about you. I want to listen to you talk for hours about the things you love. About what you want to do in this world, where you want to go, what you want to see, who you want to be. I want to know everything. I’m completely obsessed with you, Mia, and I’m man enough to admit it to your face and to anyone who wants to know. I know you feel this craziness, too. I see it in your eyes. I see it in the way you react to me. You’re probably scared, and I get that, but tell me that, then. Talk to me. Don’t come out here after the best day and night of my life and start spouting shit about what a mistake last night was and how I’m a monster for forcing you into this.”
I swallow hard, trying to keep from crying, screaming, or kissing him.
“Did I strategically get you to marry me? Yes, I did. Because I knew.”
He shakes his head and I straighten my spine.
“Knew what?”
I ask, my voice hoarse from unshed tears.
Santino shakes his head and takes a step back. “I have work to do. Make yourself at home,”
he says, spreading his arms out to gesture around the apartment. “I’ll be down the hall at my brothers if you need anything.”
I cross my arms over my chest indignantly. “I won’t.”
Santino stares at me for a beat, his emotionless mask still in place and his eyes completely shuttered from giving me any warmth like they did before.
Without another word, he grabs his wallet and keys from the counter and walks out of the apartment, leaving me frozen where I stand.
That didn’t exactly go as planned. But to be fair, I already know I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. I don’t know how to be a wife. I don’t know how to be with a man.
I look around the apartment, and now that it’s daylight, I can see how spacious, clean, and nice it is. I should’ve assumed as much, considering he’s the head of one of the remaining four families in the city and it’s a penthouse, but I always just assume men live like cavemen when they don’t have a woman in their life.
And there’s the problem. I don’t know him. I married a man I don’t know yesterday and I let him lick and kiss my body before eating my pussy like a starved man the same night.
Why did I do that?
I did that because despite not knowing intimate details of his life and all his likes and dislikes, he makes me feel alive. He makes me feel everything, all at once.
I could barely hold back from kissing him like a mad woman just before, and I don’t know what would’ve happened after that since I apparently have little to no control over my body and what it wants when Santino is near me.
Damn it, I need food. I can’t deal with all this on an empty stomach and no caffeine.
Pulling myself together, I go back into the kitchen, and something on the island catches my eye. A note from Santino.
My beautiful wife,
Here’s a set of keys to the apartment and one of my cars down in the garage, along with my credit card.
I have a surprise for you later if you’re up for it.
Your new husband who’s thankful his beautiful wife said yes to him last night,
Santino
A twinge of regret hits me in my stomach like a sucker punch, and I rub my forehead to keep an oncoming headache at bay.
Sighing, I pick up the keys and see a fob for a Porche attached to the ring. At least he’s giving me a fun car to drive. Despite living in the city, my brothers made sure I learned to drive, which Santino obviously knows or he wouldn’t have left me the keys.
I leave the note and keys on the counter for now and make myself scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, with a side of the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.
Damn, he buys the good stuff.
I spend the rest of the day rotting on the couch, watching a marathon of Vampire Diaries, wildly jealous of Elena. I would’ve chosen Damon, too. She’s lucky she had a choice. I didn’t get a choice. Or, maybe I did. I chose Santino in the club when I didn’t know who he was, and I was willing to give him everything.
Damn it.
I don’t know what to think anymore.
I turn the TV off and realize how hungry I am again. What time is it? I look at my phone and see it’s already past six. And look at that, no texts or missed calls from anyone in my family.
Did I play my part as the blushing bride so well that everyone thinks I’m okay?
No one, not even Aria or Gia, thought to text me to see how my night was? If Santino tried anything with me? If I let him try anything with me?
I didn’t expect my mother to check on me since we haven’t spoken in over two weeks, but I am her only daughter. You’d think that would mean something considering I’m also the one who’s taken care of her for years so no one knew how bad her depression truly got. I gave up my time for years without a second thought because she’s my mom, and when I needed her, she decided I’m not important enough to fight for. She didn’t even try to help me plan the wedding.
I would’ve taken anything from her.
Letting out a frustrated growl, I make myself an easy dinner of pasta with sauce that I added sauteed mushrooms, onions, and garlic to, and then watch a couple more episodes of Vampire Diaries before my eyes grow heavy and I sink down into a laying position on the couch.
Where’s Santino?
He’s been gone all day and now it’s after ten and he’s still not home.
He’s avoiding me.
He’s probably regretting marrying me after this morning.
I pinch my eyes closed and pray for sleep to finally take me so I can forget about everything for a few hours.