Desire and Revenge (The Sicilian Sins)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

T he veil on my head feels heavy as I stand beside him with our hands intertwined. I feel like my heart should be racing with excitement, but instead it beats with a calm indifference.

Our friends, family, and distinguished guests are gathered in this grand chapel, adorned with Baroque interiors and intricate frescoes. It is filled with beautiful roses and the unmistakable scent of wealth, yet it feels like nothing more than a cage.

I catch a glimpse of myself in his eyes. I’m a beautiful bride draped in diamonds, yet I feel no sparkle within me.

He is everything I was told to want—wealthy, handsome, respected. But as he smiles at me, all I see is a stranger. The ring on my finger is cold and heavy, with the weight of all I had hoped for but would never get.

How did it come to this?

I imagined this day a thousand times. A day I begin my new life. A home of my own where my word held weight, where my children’s laughter echoed without fear. A home different from the one I grew up in.

I imagined myself standing beside a man who understood me in ways no one else could, a man whose love for me would be the envy of all.

But now, with everything I’m supposed to want, I find myself wishing to be anywhere but here. How could I have been so wrong?

Why don’t I feel the sparks and butterflies I’ve read about in books and seen in movies? Where’s the magic that’s supposed to happen when you look into the eyes of the one you’re going to spend the rest of your life with?

It’s not that I’m sad, but why am I not happy ?

My heart pounds against my ribs, but I keep my expression calm and serene—everything they expect from Sofia Mazza, the first and only daughter of Tarquino Mazza, the perfect bride.

“Sofia, do you take Sebastian Lucchese to be your husband? Do you promise to be faithful to him in the good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and to honor him until death do you part?”

The priest’s voice rings out, solemn but commanding, drawing the attention of every soul in the room. A flicker of panic flares within me, sharp and cold, but I tamp it down, forcing myself to breathe steadily.

“I do.” The words slip from my lips, steady but hollow. I never would have imagined that the first time I’d say those words, I might not truly mean them.

The priest continues, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of tradition. “What God joins together, let no one put asunder. In the eyes of the Almighty, this bond is sacred and shall be unbreakable. May your union be blessed with love, faithfulness, and the strength to withstand all trials...”

I tune out the rest of his speech, his words a blur in the background as my thoughts spiral.

The mixture of anticipation and dread that has taken root inside me sprouts faster and faster, making my stomach feel tight and achy. Or maybe it’s just the corset that Carlotta cinched too tight, squeezing the air from my lungs.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The words snap me out of my daze, and I focus on my husband’s face.

The rumors don’t do him justice: he is far more attractive than they say he is. Even more striking up close, with his dark brown hair sleeked back, sharp jawline, and piercing blue eyes. His presence demands attention. I know that I’m the envy of every woman in the city.

Perfect Sofia marrying the Perfect Man.

Sebastian’s mouth curls up into a small smile that puts me at ease, and when his mouth closes over mine, I forget my panic of a few seconds ago and lose myself in the softness of his kiss.

That is until a drawn-out gasp shatters the spell. The soft murmurs ripple through the church, sharp and unmistakable.

“What is he doing here?”

“I thought he was missing.”

“I heard the Lucchese’ disowned him after his father’s death.”

“Did he finally run out of money and decide to return?”

Our kiss breaks abruptly as all eyes turn to the entrance of the church.

A tall, imposing figure stands there, his silhouette dark against the light streaming in from the open door. The stranger scans the room, his gaze lingering on us before he strides down the aisle and settles into the back pew with an air of quiet authority.

The priest clears his throat, regaining his composure. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may go in peace.”

Sebastian’s grip on my hand is firm and reassuring. He flashes me a broad smile, and despite everything, I find myself smiling back.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” he leans down to whisper into my ear. His deep, sultry voice makes me feel like jelly inside.

“A time or two,” I reply, my voice teasing. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” A chuckle slips out of his lips, and he is about to speak again when a cold, hard voice cuts in.

“Congratulations to the happy couple.”

I stiffen, my smile withering into nothing as the silver-haired man joins us.

“Mazza.” My husband nods in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, Papa,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

But Papa’s eyes are locked on Sebastian, his tone sharp, ignoring me completely. I’m not surprised. It’s what I’m used to. A respectable lady is expected to hold her tongue in the presence of men. She’s not to have an opinion except when asked or counter orders disrespectfully. It is considered ill-mannered, taboo, and even more so in the presence of two of the most influential men in Sicily.

“What is he doing here?”

Sebastian shrugs, his hand tightening around my waist, his smile never wavering. “He’s a wedding guest, just like you.”

I guess the “he” being referred to is the stranger lounging in the back pew like a king at leisure. The one who caused the commotion. Even though I don’t know half the people at my own wedding, their faces are familiar enough for me to accept their presence here.

I glance over at the man, taking in his unusual wedding outfit of a dark t-shirt, jeans, and boots. There’s nothing familiar about him. His presence is jarring, almost unsettling. And even without anyone telling me, I can just sense that he’ll be nothing but trouble.

At that moment, he raises his head, and his dark eyes meet mine across the aisle, causing me to freeze and then hurriedly look away. How can a single look from this man send chills down my spine?

Curiosity compels me to glance back a moment later, but he’s gone, vanished as quietly as he appeared.

“We’re going to be late to our wedding party, Mrs. Lucchese,” Sebastian whispers into my ear. I allow him to lead me out of the church and to the sleek, tinted-out SUV waiting right outside.

I’m silent the entire ride to my new home, but on the inside, I’m bubbling with curiosity over the man. Who is he? What does he want? I’m tempted to ask Sebastian about him, but how strange will it be to question your new husband about another man on your wedding day?

I’ll find out who he is, eventually. Women in the mafia are notorious for their gossip. When you spend your whole day sitting still and blending into the furniture until you are needed, it’s almost too easy to get valuable information.

For now, I’ll play the part of the new, silent, and perfect bride who is supposedly overjoyed to start her new life. At the very least, I’ll pretend to be, even if it kills me.

My first thought when we pull into the house almost half an hour later is that it’s far too big. I gape at the mansion as the car comes to a stop in front of a fountain. Two stories and stretching wide as far as the eyes can see, the house looks like something from a fairytale.

“Your house is magnificent,” I say, awestruck.

“It’s your house too, now,” Sebastian replies, stepping out of the car, and barely a second later, my door is pulled open by one of the suited men with a visible shoulder holster.

I’m trying to climb down the car without tripping over the train of my dress and faceplanting when, suddenly, strong hands wrap around my waist and lift me down to the ground.

“Thank you,” I begin, lifting my head to smile at my husband, but instead, I’m met with dark eyes and a mildly irritated expression.

“You must be the beautiful bride,” the man says, his tone clipped and cold.

“Castello,” Sebastian’s voice calls out as he finally rounds the car to our side, a wide smile spreading across his face. “What a pleasant surprise.”

The man’s gaze flickers from me to Sebastian, and I notice the way his posture softens just slightly. “I wouldn’t have missed your wedding for any reason.” I glance at the man again; he’s smiling back at my husband.

“Sofia,” Sebastian says, turning to me with a proud grin, “this is Nero Castello, the best man I know and the only person I proudly call a brother. Well, he isn’t, of course, but we practically grew up together. It’s almost strange not to call him that.”

A man he can call a brother ? The word echoes in my mind as I glance back at Nero, who still hasn’t cracked a smile. Even though I now know they aren’t actually related by blood, it’s strange that Sebastian has never mentioned him before. But then again, the things I know about my new husband could only fill a bottle cap.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, forcing a polite smile despite the chill that runs down my spine.

“Welcome to the family, Sofia,” Nero says, his voice lacking any warmth, and I try to look anywhere but at his too-dark, intense eyes.

“Thank you.”

Nero’s eyes linger on mine for a fraction too long before he turns back to Sebastian, ignoring my greeting.

Sebastian, oblivious to the tension, claps Nero on the back. “We have a lot of catching up to do. How long are you in town for?” my husband asks, throwing a hand over the taller man’s shoulders, “I hope you’re here to stay for good, this time. I want to hear all about your travels.”

“I’m afraid your wife will feel neglected.” Nero’s lips twitch in something resembling a smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s too early for me to make an enemy of beautiful Sofia.”

Sebastian throws his head back and lets out a boisterous bark of laughter. “It’s never too early when it comes to you. I will have them set up the west wing for you, and don’t bother refusing. I have more rooms than I know what to do with, and my home is your home, too.”

“I forgot about your annoying habit of always wanting to get your way,” Nero shakes his head fondly. “I need to go and arrange for my things to be moved out of my hotel room. Excuse me.”

My curiosity spikes the second he’s out of earshot. “Who is he?” I ask, unable to keep the question to myself.

Sebastian presses a kiss to my temple. “My childhood friend, Sofia. He is almost family.”

I accept his reply with a stiff smile, knowing better than to push further with a made man. He may have been all smiles today, but I’m fully aware that Sebastian isn’t an exception to the dangerous personas of men like him. Case in point: my father, and now, Nero Castello, a so-called brother whose brief presence leaves me with more questions than answers and a nagging sense of dread I can’t shake.

As Sebastian and I make our way into the house, I follow him down a long hallway leading to the back, where guests are eagerly waiting.

The moment we enter the backyard, cheers and applause go up around the backyard as our arrival is noted, and in a matter of seconds, we are surrounded by well-wishers.

“You look flushed,” my cousin Carlotta observes, her gaze sharp and disapproving. “Do yourself a favor, don’t have that look on your face when you spread your legs for him tonight. It makes you even less appealing.”

My eyes widen, and I dart glances around, praying no one else heard her vicious comment. “Carly, can’t you just congratulate me on my happy day?”

She snorts, her lips curving into a mocking smile. “You should be grateful I’m telling you this. Not everyone gets a heads-up like you are, thanks to me. Just trying to offer some advice to keep your new husband satisfied. Seems like that’s all you’ve got going for you, anyway.”

Carlotta has never been my favorite person. I don’t know if I pity her or just plain hate her. It can’t be easy to be past thirty and living with a horrible divorce scandal.

The women in my world don’t get divorced, and so, when she came home without her wedding ring, well… let’s just say nobody let her forget that she was a disgrace.

She’s constantly looking for ways to make herself feel better by highlighting other people’s mistakes.

“If you’ll all excuse me, my wife needs to sit down and eat some of the cake I spent a boatload on.”

The crowd laughs at Sebastian’s words and he steers me away from them and to the table on the raised dais set up for us.

“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely.

“Are you alright?” I turn to see my husband’s face full of concern for me.

He’s both good-looking and nice. I really hit the jackpot with Sebastian Lucchese.

“I’m just a bit overwhelmed,” I admit.

“I would have been more surprised if you weren’t,” he smiles. “You’re not regretting this, are you?”

“No,” I blurt out, “I could never regret this. You’re the best part in all of this.”

His shoulders drop in apparent relief. “Good. I want you to be happy, Sofia; happy and safe.”

Tears threaten to blur my vision, and I blink them back, not wanting to ruin my makeup or give any of the guests something to talk about.

I’ve always known that, someday, I would have to marry someone as part of my duty to my family. No girl child in the mafia is deluded enough to believe she will marry for anything other than duty. But, as much as I’ve always wanted to do my part for the family, I lived in constant dread of ending up with someone old, cruel, or both.

Sebastian is neither of those things, and I believe that, with time, I will even come to love him. We can have a beautiful life together, a marriage built on mutual respect and trust.

“I’m happy,” I reply. “And I feel safe with you.”

“Good.”

After that, I allow myself to enjoy my reception party and not think about my impending wedding night. I’m sure Carlotta has only been trying to terrify me with her whole speech about how excruciating and humiliating it is.

Sebastian won’t hurt me.

I suddenly wish that we could be done with the guests and finally consummate the marriage. The wait is only serving to make me anxious.

“Take her to bed! Take her to bed!” The chants begin hours later, and I duck my head to hide my flaming cheeks.

“Now, calm down, everyone. You’re making my bride anxious,” Sebastian says with a laugh. “If you want us out of your faces, then just say so.” His jesting is met with laughter and cheers as he indulges the crowd with stories of our new, blissful union.

At that moment, I feel a shiver run down my spine and I hurriedly look up. Even from where he’s leaning casually against a pillar, Nero Castello’s gaze is still like a spear, stabbing into me and pinning me in place.

In a space full of dangerous mafiosos, there is something about him that makes the other men look like harmless kittens.

A hand rests on my bare shoulder, and I flinch, startled. “You look tired, Sofia. Go on up; I’ll join you in a few minutes,” comes Sebastian’s calm voice.

My hands get clammy, and my throat feels constricted. “Of course,” I croak, and rise to my feet, earning me cheers and whistles from the inebriated guests.

I follow the hallway back into the house and, to my surprise, a girl about my age with pale blonde hair and a servant uniform is waiting for me just inside.

“If you’ll follow me, Mrs. Lucchese,” she says, “I’ll help you out of your dress and get you ready for your husband.”

We weave through hallway upon hallway, and I marvel at how large the house is. I can already predict a future of me getting lost in these maze-like hallways.

Finally, she pushes open the door of a gorgeous room and we walk in.

“What’s your name?” I ask the girl as she begins to undo the complicated ribbons holding the back of my dress together.

“Alba,” she replies. “You’re very pretty. I’m glad you’re the one who’s going to be our mistress. You and Mr. Lucchese make a beautiful couple. I saw you walk in together.”

“Hmm,” I hum happily.

“Would you like me to take off the dress entirely or just loosen the laces, ma’am?”

“The dress, please.”

“The lacing is way too tight anyway,” she remarks. “Not that you need it. I can tell you have a lovely figure beneath the dress.” She suddenly freezes, realizing what she’s said. “Oh no, was that offensive? Please don’t be offended. Mannaggia, Alba ! You and your big mouth. Ma always says I don’t know when to shut up.”

I laugh, shaking my head, eager to put her at ease. “It’s fine, Alba. I don’t mind at all.”

Her smile grows a little wider, and I can tell she’s not used to such kindness. We continue to chat as she helps me out of the dress, carefully removing the pins holding my blonde-brown hair in place.

And it helps my tense muscles relax at the normalcy of her incessant, one-sided conversation. I’m not really paying attention to her, just allowing the words to drift over me and distract me from my wedding night.

The door swings open as she’s telling me all about how soundproof the room is, but I don’t turn around. I’m too nervous to face Sebastian in just my white lingerie set.

When the door clicks shut a moment later, I know that we are alone. Only then do I face him. I shoot him a small, nervous smile. “Hi.”

He doesn’t return the smile. Instead, he slowly approaches me and cradles my face in his hands. The strong smell of alcohol on him indicates he must have had much more to drink since I left.

He gazes at me with a piercing intensity, as if he’s trying to confirm that I’m truly standing before him. To show him that I am not afraid of him, I raise my hand and place it over his, trying to bridge the distance between us.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, the one that was always coming. Maybe he’s not the man I imagined, but he’s still strikingly handsome. If this is how it has to be, I’m going to enjoy it.

I rise onto my toes, leaning in for a kiss, but his grip tightens around my face, halting me mid-motion.

“What? Don’t you want to kiss me?”

Sebastian’s lips twist into a cruel grin before he shoves me back. He walks to the bed, sitting with a dark, brooding presence that feels foreign, like I’m staring at someone I’ve never met. The man who married me today is gone. What sits before me is someone else entirely. The cold smirk on his lips makes it all too clear that this is the man who will be staying.

His next words drive the point home. “Take your panties off and get on the bed, Sofia.”