Ciao Bella

Chapter Twenty-One

“Pretending is worse than getting shot at, I would know, I pretended a very, very long time.” —King Campisi

Ivan

I signed the contract.

The easiest part was over with.

Now I just had to wait for the complaints from all the men telling me how to do my job and that we should have broken away to prove our strength. Time would tell and I figured it would take possibly a day for news to spread that we would stay under the thumb of the Capo.

Something the De Langes had notoriously hated for years.

Find the mole.

Who was pulling the strings.

Who was barking out orders.

Who had no fear.

It wouldn’t take long, I’d only bought so much time though, so I was still nervous. People rarely stayed silent; they were passive aggressive, good with words and good with pulling people to their side, and often driven by their own greed or need for power.

It wasn’t Tank. I knew that for sure.

I had no suspicions and hadn’t received any intel. I was told to wait for further instructions, and I was told to play my part, which started once King signed. I’d just single-handedly ruined so many plans.

Tank brought the black folder back to me. I opened it, saw blood, and went into a purposeful self-destruct mode.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and started chugging, then slammed it onto the ground. “More!”

Tank stared at me, then at the bottle, shook his head, and walked off to get more whiskey.

Sick to my stomach, I pretended not to watch Bella watch me as I got up and joined some of my men at their table.

They were drunk off their asses, possibly high, and had a few women with them who looked like actual prostitutes.

Wonderful.

I grabbed one from Mark, one of my least favorite made men, and pulled her onto my lap. “Where’s my wedding present, beautiful?”

Her laugh was so annoying my ears pounded, her long white nails dug into my cheeks as she leaned down and kissed me, all tongue, no finesse, tasting like wine and cigarettes.

I fought not to gag and grabbed her ass. “Mmmmm.”

She moved across my lap, creating friction, and my sad dick deflated even more than it already had.

The men around me laughed and cheered.

And with each kiss of this random stranger on my wedding day, in front of every Family, I made a complete ass out of myself.

I made myself look weak.

Easy to control.

Too eager.

Too young.

I grabbed the redhead next to Dio and pulled her onto my other knee. “I really, really like presents.”

She bit down on my neck. I forced out a laugh when she was tossed off me and onto the floor by none other than Nixon himself.

“Hey, Dad.” I winked.

He punched me across the face, sending me sailing into the floor before picking me up to my feet and punching me again.

It hurt like hell. Was it sick that I liked it more than those kisses?

The pain was real.

The kissing wasn’t.

I didn’t cover my face when Nixon pulled back for a second punch, but I was saved by a sucker punch to the back of my head by a much smaller hit.

What the hell?

I looked over my shoulder.

Bella was shaking her hand in the air and glaring at me. “Time to go.”

I got to my feet and pretended to sway toward her. “I like the way you think.” I looked over my shoulder. “See ya, Dad. I’ll let you know how it goes when I make your baby girl into a woman.”

Hoots went up around my table while I followed Bella out.

Nixon’s eyes spoke nothing but murder.

But he knew. I gave him a vow. It was all for show. My entire life was a joke now… and would be until some lucky bastard ended it.

I gave him a slight nod and stumbled out of the reception hall and into the waiting black SUV.

Bella jumped in ahead of me.

There was no crowd. No throwing of rice. No honeymoon.

Just silence as we drove off.

She scooted away from me and wiped at her face.

My heart wouldn’t stop hammering against my chest.

Every single time I tried to open my mouth to say something, the only words I could conjure up were “I’m sorry.” And I couldn’t say them. I wasn’t supposed to.

It wasn’t part of the plan.

So, I said nothing.

And I listened to her softly cry next to me.

Funeral indeed.

If she had any clue how much I needed her, if she had any clue how much I wanted her in that moment, wanted her to yell at me, to fight me like she always did, to even hold my hand, she’d be stunned.

We all had our parts in this play.

Mine wasn’t to play her hero.

And hers wasn’t to save me from myself.

It would be a tragic ending.

Queen takes the pawn.

Checkmate.

I checked my phone once we got to the boutique hotel; it was some modern masculine looking penthouse suite that looked over Lake Michigan, and it thankfully had two bedrooms.

Champagne was chilling for us, along with a shit ton of food and changes of clothes.

She was still sitting on the bed ten minutes after I brushed my teeth and had pulled open my shirt and tossed my tie, jacket, and shoes.

I wasn’t drunk.

I was barely buzzed.

I was too stressed and needed to be alert.

I could both hear and see her deep breath. Damn, her dress was gorgeous on her. Seductive and sweet, not too sexy, I’d been tempted so many times to run my hands down her arms, to even just brace her shoulders. The sheer number of times I wished she’d trip during our first dance, so I’d have an excuse to touch her more, was embarrassing.

She stood and turned to me. “Can you help me take off my dress?”

Yes. No.My tongue wasn’t working, and my mouth wasn’t opening, so I just nodded and reached for the top clasp near her neck.

“So, my dad really will kill you if you touch me, hmmm?” she asked.

My fingers froze. “Yes, and he felt the need to repeat it so many times I lost count, why?”

She shrugged. “Then it would be him holding the knife to you, not me. I’d be innocent in all of this.”

“I’m not tempted.” I lied as I made my way down every button in her dress until my hands grazed right above her ass where her nude thong made itself known.

Shit.

It didn’t help that she was wearing a matching strapless corset that accentuated her hips.

“I don’t need to tempt you. I just want to strike a bargain.”

“Sounds both dangerous and deadly, I’m intrigued.” My laugh was dry, just like my mouth. “All done.”

She turned and faced me.

I kept my eyes locked on hers. “Well? Is this all part of your plan? Seduce me and get me killed? Have to say, I kind of expected you to be more strategic about it.”

Her eyes were swollen from crying. She opened her mouth and closed it, then opened it again, putting her hands on her hips. “You didn’t get me a gift.”

“I’m sorry?”

“A wedding gift,” she said quickly. “All brides get a gift, it’s a thing, I looked it up. And I didn’t get you one either.”

“Okay.” Where was she going with this?

A tear slid down her cheek. She quickly swiped it away. “I just think it’s only fair that since this isn’t a real marriage, since you’re going to be screwing everything that walks, that I should get my choice of gift.”

“Sounds expensive.” I teased, not liking the direction of the conversation. “And I’m not buying you a pony, I remember when your dad bought you Peppermint.”

She actually smiled. “It wasn’t her fault she had a hearing problem.”

I rolled my eyes. “Her ears were fine, and I’ve never in my life seen a pony escape and break into a person’s bedroom.”

She smirked.

“Four times,” I added. “Methinks she had some help.”

“She was curious by nature.”

“She ate my clothes and left me a very large gift near the bathroom.”

“At least she gave you something?” Bella smiled at me.

And I was taken back.

To the shower.

To the babysitting.

To the constant fights.

Touching.

Sparring.

To my life before the death.

To having a friend I called enemy, and an enemy I called friend. My heart stung with each pound, making its way up to my dry throat. I burned over the loss I created.

I had no idea that I’d look back and miss fighting with her over dinner.

Or that I’d miss my training with Junior.

I’d lost my brother and my best enemy in one day.

“The rules state you can’t touch me,” she whispered. “But I can touch you. A small technicality. So, even though you’re evil, and I hate you, can I touch you, Ivan? Can I make a choice and take something for myself? For once in this mess?”

What did she just say?

I blinked. “W-what?”

“Touch you,” she repeated. “It’s my wedding night and I’m going to quite literally die a virgin while you die a villain. So, can you just pretend you’re mildly attracted to me? Can you pretend for just a few minutes and let me touch you?”

To what end? I wanted to ask. And why did this feel like I was signing up to get tortured?

I tried to turn the tables. “Why would you want to touch me, of all people?”

“You’re my husband,” she said. “And you said to trust you. Can I? Still? Trust you? Despite all the sins you’ve committed and will committee? Despite what you’ve put us both through and the Families?”

I jerked out of my shirt and slowly dropped it to the carpet. “Touch all you want, but I’m not taking what’s someone else’s.”

She frowned. “What?”

“I’m not taking your virginity, Bella.”

She actually looked upset about it. What sort of conversation had she had in her head while I was getting ready for bed? Seriously? She should be thankful!

“Fine.” She licked her lips. “L-lay on the bed, on your back.”

I hid my smile.

Not how I planned on spending my wedding night in sheer torture while a gorgeous woman bossed me around. Welcome to marriage, right?

I lay down on my back and put my hands behind my head. “Like this?”

Her chest rose and fell slowly while her eyes roamed all over me. She crossed her arms. “No, I need you to take off all of your clothes.”

I froze. “What?”

“Naked. I want you naked. Now.” She actually grabbed her phone and typed something into it. “I’m setting a timer for my gift, give me ten minutes and you can go sleep in your room, I just want ten damn minutes for myself, to forget, can you do that?”

Ten minutes would be a lifetime.

Ten minutes would kill me.

I was already turned on and she hadn’t even touched me.

“Yes.” My mouth betrayed me. “Yes, I’ll give you ten minutes.”

“Good. Now strip.”

So I did.