Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
SIENNA
"You got to pick the color palette for the bouquets, Daniela! It is my turn to choose the fabric textures for the reception drapery!" Camilla shouts, her hands flying wildly in the air as she paces the length of the Persian rug.
"Drapery?" Daniela fires back, rolling her eyes as she lounge-sprawls across the velvet armchair.
"Camilla, nobody is looking at the curtains. They are looking at the jewelry. Sienna needs more diamond options for that, depending on her dress’ neckline, which means we need to browse the vault selection while she's in the dressing room. "
I let out a long, heavy groan, sinking deeper into the cushions of the sofa as the storm rages around me.
Finally, today is the day. I am picking my wedding dress.
I had intentionally put it off for days, dragging my feet through every bridal consultation and fabric swatch delivery because the mere thought of stepping into a white gown made the reality of this nightmare entirely too real.
A wedding dress meant a ceremony. A ceremony meant a vow.
A vow meant belonging to Alessandro Gallo forever.
But my avoidance tactics officially expired this morning. My father marched into my bedroom at the crack of dawn, his face a stern, unyielding mask as he stared down at me from the foot of my bed.
"If you do not pick your dress today, Sienna," he had barked with cold authority, "I will select one for you myself and have it delivered to your room on your wedding morning. Do not embarrass this family. Or I will embarrass you.”
So, today it is.
As always, Daniela and Camilla are going completely crazy at the mere prospect of a high-end shopping spree. We have our father’s black Amex card tucked securely inside my purse, which means we have a green light to splurge as much as we want without looking at a single price tag.
Daniela's sudden obsession with my "jewelry options" is just a thinly veiled excuse for her to upgrade her own collection for the gala season. Camilla, on the other hand, is insisting she has to be the absolute dictator of the dress silhouette.
Honestly, I really don’t mind at this point. Let them fight over tulle and satin. My mind is entirely too exhausted to care.
I sit trapped in the middle of them, my head swiveling back and forth as I listen to them argue over sweetheart necklines versus dramatic trains, treating my impending doom like a red-carpet premier.
Right now, we are just stuck waiting in the foyer for Father to finish organizing our security detail so we can finally leave the estate. Because God forbid the precious Caruso girls go anywhere in this city without a massive, suffocating entourage of armed guards tracking our every move
Who does our father think we are?
Valuable cargo he’s terrified of losing before the transaction is finalized, of course.
The heavy, reinforced front door suddenly swings open, cutting my bitter thoughts short.
Alessandro walks into the foyer.
The bickering cuts out instantly. Daniela and Camilla go dead silent, their eyes widening as they frown at him, their bodies instinctively bracing. I sit up straight, my pulse instantly jumping into overdrive.
He looks entirely too large for the room. Tall. Broad-shouldered. He’s rolled the sleeves of his dark button-down shirt up to his elbows, exposing the intricate, dark ink of his tattoos running up and down his thick forearms.
The mere sight of him makes a betraying, liquid heat coil deep in my stomach, my body reacting to his predatory presence before my brain can even stop it. His dark eyes scan the foyer, locking onto mine with a lethal, smug confidence that says he knows exactly what he does to me.
I rush to my feet, desperate to break the spell. "What are you doing here?" I demand, my voice sharper than intended.
Alessandro stops a few feet away, leaning his hip casually against the marble banister. "Is that any way to greet your future husband, dolcezza?"
Dolcezza… there it is again, the endearment that literally translates to ‘sweetness’.
I frown deeply at him, crossing my arms over my chest like a shield. "I’m going shopping with my sisters, I don’t have time. So you have to leave."
He doesn't look remotely offended. Instead, he claps his hands together once, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Perfect timing, then. I’ll take you shopping instead."
"No," I say immediately, violently shaking my head.
“No?” He questions.
Daniela steps up beside me, her protective sisterly instincts overriding her fear as she frowns at him. "It’s wedding dress shopping, Alessandro. You can't go."
Alessandro slowly shifts his gaze to her, casting her a cold, unbothered glare that would make a seasoned soldier break a sweat. "I actually love wedding shopping."
“Yeah, right?” Daniela lets out a sharp scoff, crossing her arms. "Have you been married before?"
Alessandro arches a single, mocking brow, his dark eyes glinting. "Have you?"
Daniela snaps her jaw closed and steps back, glaring at the floor.
Alessandro turns his attention fully back to me, taking a slow step forward until he's completely dominating my personal space. "The wedding is for both of us, Sienna. And I want us to choose our things together."
"I want my sisters with me," I insist, my voice trembling slightly as I refuse to back down.
"No can do," he rumbles, his voice eases into that low, private tone meant for me alone. "I want some private time with my bride."
I glare at him with everything I have. A flash of pure, wicked amusement flares in his dark eyes at my defiance. He loves when I fight back. It just gives him something to break.
Fine. Two can play at this game. There is no way my traditionalist, control-freak father is going to let his prize daughter disappear into the city alone with a volatile Gallo before the contracts are officially signed.
"You can go upstairs and ask my father, then," I say, a triumphant tilt touching my lips. "If my father says it's okay for you to take me, then I'll go."
Alessandro stares at me for a beat, reading the trap I've laid for him. He lets out a low, rough chuckle that sends a shiver down my spine. "Sweetheart, your father has absolutely no right to refuse me anything. But if it makes you happy to see me play nice..."
He doesn't finish the sentence. He just winks at me, turns on his heel, and casually jogs up the grand staircase, disappearing into the upper corridors toward Massimo's private study.
"Dad is going to say no, right?" Camilla asks, her voice laced with disappointment as she watches the empty staircase.
"Dad will definitely say yes," Daniela replies, her voice flat. "He’s afraid of Alessandro, even if he’d rather die than admit it to anyone."
"Sienna," Camilla groans, stepping closer and wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulder. "How do you even deal with him? I’m so incredibly sorry you’re going through this."
Before I can even find the words to answer her, the heavy thud of leather boots echoes from the floor above. I turn around just in time to see Alessandro descending the grand staircase. He meets my gaze with a broad, arrogant grin, and my heart violently skips a beat.
I don't need him to say a word. The look on his face tells me everything: my father agreed without a fight.
"Come, Sienna," Alessandro commands, not even breaking his stride as he stalks straight past us toward the massive front door. "We don't have all day."
Camilla and Daniela instantly wrap their arms around me, pulling me into a tight, protective embrace.
"It's okay," I whisper to them, gently squeezing their hands as we pull apart. "We can go shopping together some other time. I promise."
They both nod, trying their absolute best to hide their disappointment, but I can see it in their eyes. As I pull my purse over my shoulder, I make a firm mental note to buy them each something incredibly beautiful while I'm out, just to make up for it.
I turn and walk out of the grand foyer, stepping into the bright morning air. Parked right in the middle of the circular driveway is Alessandro's sleek, dark sports car.
I walk over to the passenger side, pull the heavy door open, and slide onto the leather seat. Alessandro kills the locks, shifts into gear, and hits the gas, tearing down the paved driveway and through the front gates.
The interior of the car is completely suffocating. Neither of us says a single word, the heavy silence stretching between us like a thin wire ready to snap as he drives us deep into the heart of the city.
Without breaking his gaze from the road, his gravelly voice cuts through the quiet. "We're actually picking out a dress for you to wear tonight. You’re meeting the syndicate elders. It’s time you’re officially introduced to the family as my future wife."
I stiffen in my seat, a sharp wave of disbelief hitting me. I turn my head to glare at his profile. "And I’m just finding out? Great timing. Did you bother to tell my father that?"
He glances over at me, his dark eyes cold. "I don’t need your father's permission for a single damn thing. Don’t piss me off."
I let out a harsh, bitter scoff, rolling my eyes as I lean back against the leather headrest. "Honestly, something must have died up your ass this morning, and you really need to get it checked."
A dangerous, wicked smirk instantly replaces his scowl. He doesn't take his eyes off the road this time, but his voice twists into a suggestive rumble. "If there’s going to be any ass probing, sweetheart, it’s going to be yours. And I’ll be probing it with my cock."
I gasp, my face instantly exploding into a furious, burning crimson. The sheer audacity of his words leaves me completely speechless. I snap my mouth shut and stare violently out the passenger window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of another word.
"Yeah," he murmurs, his low chuckle vibrating through the car. "That’s what I thought."