10. Addiction has a taste and it’s Giulia’s
She’s infuriating, my little wife.
For every step forward I make, after every moment of truce I manage to establish, something sets her off, and she freezes me out.
My lips brushing the soft skin of her neck has been nothing short of a religious experience. Giulia doesn’t have to do anything for her siren voice to call me in the dark; her presence alone serves as a reminder that I could easily fall prey to her. That certainly never happened before and I’m curious to understand this novelty writhing under my flesh and bones.
When she looks like that, the only thing I want is to beg on my knees for a taste of her. I’m aching to know what her lips taste like.
And she didn’t even let me tell her how gorgeous she looks, how dazzled I am by her. It’s not only about her beauty; it’s in the way she carries herself, chin raised and shoulders back, ready to take on the world and prove to anyone who told her she couldn’t do something that she damn well can and with panache.
I can’t wait to claim her as my wife for everyone to see tonight.
Entering the art-deco lobby of Hotel Amour with Giulia on my arms is a high I want to live every single moment of my public life. I’m on top of the world, nothing can stop us, two angels of retribution ready to get what they’re owed.
A concierge in a suit walks us to the reception hall of the palace, a monumental space with a glass dome and luxurious black and white marble walls with geometric designs, where everyone is already in attendance. When we walk in, all eyes turn to the woman on my arm. I’m invisible and I don’t care. She shines brighter than the blood red ruby on her neck, and all I want is to put her on a pedestal for everyone to see.
But not touch.
Mayor Lewis greets us with a sweaty palm and I don’t miss the small rictus of disgust on my wife’s face but she amps up the charm.
“I couldn’t believe it when Andrea told me he was married. Such a short amount of time, that’s truly incredible.” I don’t miss the sarcasm in his voice, nor does Giulia. We all know what this is, but except the Mayor, no one else does.
“If you consider Andrea’s been in love with me for years, I’d say it was about time he popped the question.” Giulia laughs, then shakes the Mayor’s wife’s hands vigorously, giving her all her attention. I see her at work in an instant, complimenting Jane Lewis on her dress, her jewellery, asking what shade of lipstick she wears and what not. She loops her arm in Jane’s and guides us inside like she owns the place, and I’m struck looking at the sway of her generous hips.
“You certainly found her quick, Capaldi.”
I don’t bother looking at him. I only have eyes for the strategist that is Giulia Capaldi.
“Didn’t you hear my wife? It was about time I popped the question. Giulia and I have known each other for a long time, Lewis. Your ultimatum was just the push I needed.”
“Of course, of course.” He doesn’t buy it, but it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that voters do. And considering the headlines calling her the Kalliste Beauty who enthralled Andrea Capaldi, I think they will.
“Before we enjoy our meal, I need to show you something,” Lewis says.
I’m reluctant to let Giulia out of my sight but she’s already charmed a table of guests and they’re all looking at her with stars in their eyes, laughing at something she said while her laugh rings in the space like a beautiful melody. She’s spreading the news of our nuptials subtly, but people circle the table like vultures, attracted by fresh gossip and a new face. She turns her gaze to me and winks.
She fucking winks at me.
For everyone to see and swoon.
She’s good.
If I didn’t know she’s probably planning my demise in that smart brain of hers, I too would believe she’s smitten with me. All I want to do is pretend. When she landed on my lap, I had no idea being in her presence would be so invigorating, turning everything else to dust on my tongue.
As a reminder of why she’s in my life, Lewis drags me outside to the garden where the chief of police, Arthur Taylor, awaits. He’s been in the force for almost twenty years and I bet he”s been in Lewis’s pockets ever since, but most of his employees are in mine. Given the sombre look on his face, it seems they failed to report something of importance to me. I seethe at their incompetence.
“We have a problem,” Lewis declares.
“And why does the chief of police have to be here for this conversation?”
“Someone died.”
“People die every day, Lewis. Get to the point,” I say, my tone clipped.
“They were dumped yesterday behind a store in the financial district, but they did not die there. The body was transported. We don’t know how far, and we don’t have the identity of the victim yet.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“It could be linked to organised crime,” Taylor says, like the natural consequence of his sentence is that I understand what he means. I do, but if he wants help with anything, I’ll have him begging for it.
“So?”
“You might be on your way to politics now, but we know your roots. And in any case, you’re a cyber genius and have more ways than we do at the station to help us find the culprit,” Taylor says.
I laugh forcefully. “You want me to keep it quiet. You don’t want to alert the good people of West Hill that someone is dumping dead bodies on the town.”
Those fuckers still won’t accept me into the fray, but at every turn, they ask for my help.
“If I help, I want to be guaranteed to win.”
“You know it doesn’t work like that, Capaldi. Don’t you want to win fair and square?” Lewis asks.
“Oh, I will. But you will help me by telling all your friends and lackeys to pledge millions to my campaign and fund the fucking projects I tell you to, helping the communities I tell you to instead of spending town money on golf trips.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not, Lewis. I’m your friend, am I not? I’m simply laying out the land.”
Someone dying in one place and ending up in another is never a good thing, especially since I have spies within every outfit in the city and this has nothing to do with me. It could be an isolated crime, but I have a fucking bad feeling about it. I text Nico that we have a situation on our hands, then pocket my phone.
I storm out and trace my steps back to where Giulia sits and entertains a crowd of people. I haven’t caught sight of Addams yet, but I don’t want her anywhere near him.
When she sees me, her whole face lights up and I don’t know what’s true and what’s not anymore. I place a hand on her lower back, resisting the urge to caress her curves. My fingers singe with the heat of her body.
“Andrea, I was just talking about you.”
“Only good things I hope,” I smile at the crowd.
“Only ever good,” she says before kissing the corner of my lips. The place zaps with a charge of electricity and I resist keeping her lips where they landed with a hand at the back of her head. They look soft, but I refuse to have our first kiss out in the open for everyone to see.
I bunch my hand in a fist instead. Anything to prevent me from reaching towards her. The swoons of the onlookers mean nothing to me; I’m too ensnared in Giulia’s green eyes.
She reflects deep confusion at me and I clear my throat, unsure what this means. “If you don’t mind, ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to go find our table. Enjoy your meal.”
As I guide my little wife to our table, Addams comes into view. His eyes are like saucers as he takes in the woman on my arm, devouring her with his lecherous gaze. I make a show of pulling out Giulia’s chair and can’t resist kissing her neck, just under her left ear. I barely register Addams’s sneer when goosebumps erupt all over her skin. Her reactions to me are my victories tonight.
* * *
“Your rings are rather simple,” someone comments from the other side of the table.
I clench my jaw, wanting to punch the asshole who asked. This marriage was never real, so I did the bare minimum to make it look authentic and it fucking shows. With every day that passes, it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish the lies from the truth, especially when my little wife plays her role so fucking well.
Giulia jumps to my rescue when no answer comes, placing her left hand on mine. The gold band glints in the light like a beacon. “Our wedding rings are at the jeweller, getting resized. Andrea went all the way to my father to get my deceased mother’s wedding ring. These are our promises to each other.” She laughs and if I didn’t know it’s utter bullshit, I’d believe every word.
“That’s so romantic,” Jane quips.
“He’s a secret romantic, my Andrea,” Giulia says while looking at me. There’s the fire of challenge there and I live for it. I lift her hand to my lips and stay a second too long, delighted in the soft blush creeping up her decolletage.
Remember to go get her the family ring.
I know she said it in the heat of the moment, but it matters to her, and I’d be damned if I don’t get her exactly what she wants. That reminds me that I haven’t heard from her father, which infuriates me on her behalf. To think she isn’t important enough for him to claim her out of my hands is a slight, and I immediately dislike the prick.
Her attention is stolen away again and I’m dying to have it back on me. I place my hand on her thigh where the dress parts for my fingers like it’s always meant to. She tenses and when I don’t make a move, she relaxes again.
I draw lazy circles, creating a path of gooseflesh across her milky thigh. The way she fidgets and shifts on her seat, then presses her thighs together is dizzying. My pinky finger moves up until my whole hand drags to the inner part, so close to her heat. She presses her legs together, trapping my hand in between her legs.
I lean over to whisper in her ear. “You realise that’s exactly where I want to be, right?”
She immediately relaxes and excuses herself. I wait only a minute before I follow her and push the door of the bathroom open with force before locking it behind me.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I march to her and, as always, she stays rooted in place and continues applying lipstick to her pretty mouth, the fire of defiance illuminating her face with fierce grace.
“Avoiding me won’t get you anywhere, guerrieritta.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Capaldi. I don’t cower to anyone.”
“Don’t I know it. I love that about you.”
I cage her in with my arms on each side of her body and lean against her back. My knuckles whiten with the restraint not to touch her. She whirls around to face me. “Stop it. You know the rules.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the rules.”
The sharp inhale of breath she takes gives me life, shredding my self-control to ribbons. Heat coiling up my spine, eyes narrowing until all I can see is her in that velvet dress that can’t be softer than her skin.
“You keep giving me the fuck-me-eyes all night and expect me to believe you don’t want whatever’s brewing between us? Tell me, guerrieritta, do you think of me as much as I think of you?”
“I’m just pretending.”
I glide my hands at her hips, bunching the fabric of her dress up until one of my hands can slither in between her thighs. When she doesn’t make a move to stop me, her breaths choppy and shallow, I continue.
Just like I suspected, her thong is drenched with arousal. I gently move my fingers back and forth, rubbing the silk on her pussy and watching as her chest heaves and her pupils dilate to a full-blown black that I want to drown into.
“Will you pretend when you come all over my fingers?”
“That’s not going to happen.” She can barely get the words out.
“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”
The smell of vanilla invades my senses when I bend to nip at her earlobe and I release a deep groan when I move the fabric to the side and feel how wet she is with the pad of my fingers. One of the hands that was supporting her against the counter comes to tangle in my hair. Her fingers are rough as she pulls at the roots, making me moan on her neck. I bite it and lick the sting away while she whimpers under my tongue.
“You’re pretending so well, sweetheart.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t give a fuck as long as you watch your husband making you come on his hand.”
Her eyes are blown wide, and she cries out when I insert two digits into her tight pussy, the sound making me harder. Both her hands cling to me as her orgasm crests up, her little pants of breath feeding my hunger for her. She watches me with riveted attention, eyes on my lips and licking hers before our eyes clash again.
“Beg me to kiss you, sweetheart.”
“Never.”
I pump my fingers into her faster, intent on making her mindless with pleasure and submit to me, but my little wife is a fighter. I watch her as her lips part and she lets out moan after moan while her pussy chokes my fingers with the force of her orgasm.
She doesn’t let go of me straight away. I remove my fingers from her and lick them clean one by one, taking my time to note the lust in her eyes. Her sweet taste bursts on my tongue and I’m truly fucked because nothing will ever compare.
“You’ve become my favourite meal, sweetheart,” I whisper before kissing her cheek.
She frowns and pushes me out of her way, stomping back to the reception hall, and I can’t help the devious smile on my face.
Giulia Moretti will be mine, no matter the cost.