4. Chapter 4
Ilaughed as Luciana gave me the finger.
“A finger isn’t the only thing that will be inside you on our wedding night,” I said before she slammed the car door shut.
As the words left my mouth, a heavy weight seemed to settle in my gut. The thought of her bearing me an heir had been a driving force behind our impending marriage, but now that I had verbalized it, doubts and fears crept in.
The mere thought of starting a family churned my stomach with unease. After the tumultuous and damaging experience with my family, how could I possibly raise a child without passing on the same dysfunction?
My dad had worked for Dario, Ettore’s father, for many years. He started as a low-ranking employee and worked his way up to being an underboss. He passed away when I was only nine years old.
My mother had always despised him. She saw his death as an escape from a life she never wanted. Without a second thought, she abandoned me and disappeared into the unknown. At just nine years old, I was left to face the harsh realities of the world alone.
After my father’s death and mother’s disappearance, Dario took me in. He might have been the most feared Mafia Don at the time, but the man had some compassion in him.
But at twenty-eight, I now saw it was not only altruism. He raised me knowing I would someday become Ettore’s right-hand man. I would be there to make sound decisions and be a ruthless killer when his son wasn’t around to do the job.
That past tormented me as we approached our wedding night.
Perhaps it would be wise to delay the conception of an heir for the time being. The persuasive words of the older Mafiosos lingered in my mind, guiding me towards their beliefs. Yet, I knew deep down that their counsel might not always be necessary.
The wedding coordinator, who looked just as uncomfortable as the last time I saw her, sat across the table from Luciana and I. Luciana had insisted on having the final meeting at her house. I couldn’t help but think it was her way of avoiding another car ride with me.
“So these are the final plans,” the coordinator said, pushing the diagrams and photos in front of my fiancée and I.
“Okay,” Luciana said, not bothering to look.
“Um,” the coordinator bit her lip, looking unsure if she should continue to talk. “Don’t you want to see them?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “Do you not specialize in arranged marriages?”
The wedding coordinator’s face flushed with embarrassment as she tried to salvage the situation. Meanwhile, I bit my lip and let out a small cough, trying to hold back my laughter at the antics of my over-the-top fiancée.
“Let me see,” I said.
Per the documents laid out in front of me, this was going to be the perfect wedding. I imagined it was going to be a wedding every girl dreamed of.
Every girl except the one sitting next to me.
“This is fine,” I said. “Gennaro Catucci will be paying for this. There is a maid outside that can lead you to him.”
The price tag read almost two million dollars, a staggering sum that most people’s wallets would never know. But for me, it was just another number, a mere drop in the bucket of my fortune. I could easily afford it without even batting an eye. But Gennaro would foot the bill as part of his fuck up.
The coordinator nodded and hastily left the room. Luciana and I were left in an awkward silence.
She broke it. “What were you saying?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. The only conversation I had was right in front of her, and Luciana and I hadn’t been talking about anything prior to this. We were in our normal routine of silence.
“What do you mean?” I responded.
“The other day when I got out of your car. The,” she paused, her face flushed. “Finger comment.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so crude, or broached the subject differently.
“That we’re going to have sex, obviously,” I replied bluntly.
A strangled noise escaped her lips, barely audible but filled with emotion. Luciana, determined to maintain her composure, immediately regained control of her features and acted as though the incident didn’t faze her in the slightest. Her facade was strong, and I almost missed seeing through it.
“It’s just sex,” I said. “Nothing we haven’t done before.”
“Right.”
Her fingers tightened around the chair arms so hard they turned white. And I realized.
“You’ve never had sex,” I said bluntly.
“What? No. I’ve had plenty of it. Dozens.”
“Dozens of sex?”
My soon-to-be wife was quite the character. A bit of a nuisance, but still entertaining.
“Really?” I leaned in close to her, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Describe it to me. In graphic detail.”
Luciana’s cheeks flushed a light rose, but as the realization of her mistake sunk in, it spread and deepened into a fiery red.
“That’s what I thought,” I said. “Get some birth control before our wedding night.”
“What makes you think I’ll have sex with you?!”
“That ring on your finger.”
I slowly rose to my feet, unable to tear my gaze away from hers. Her eyes were pools of liquid amber, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window. A faint blush still stained her cheeks as she met my intense stare, and I felt something shift in my chest. Our eyes remained locked as I prepared to leave, the unspoken tension between us palpable.
A lock of her golden blonde hair had strayed from its place. I leaned closer and gently tucked it behind her ear, bringing our faces within inches of each other.
“One week left. Would you like to practice the ‘kiss the bride’ moment, dear?” I said, giving her a devious smile.
“I will bite your lips off,” she responded.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”