8
Mrs. Capuleto
I Stopped hearing everything around me.
I didn”t want to hear a damn word of that sermon. I didn”t want to because I was furious. When I discovered Capuleto”s deceit, I wanted to scream, but I am to blame. One of the things I learned early on in this world is: know your enemy. I failed to do so and made a rookie mistake.
Fool! The first thing I should have done was to investigate the enemy better than I know myself, from what time he wakes up, what makes him constipated, or when he goes out for a run.
I did my homework poorly, and now I was paying the price.
My mother was sitting in the front row, next to Massimo, on one of those chairs adorned with flowers and ribbons reserved for family and close friends.
The rest of the guests were seated on the stone tiers of the amphitheater.
I stopped listening to everything around me. I didn”t want to hear a damn word of that sermon. I didn”t want to because I was furious. When I discovered Capulleto”s deceit, I wanted to scream, but I am to blame. One of the things I learned early on in this world is: know your enemy. I failed to do so and made a rookie mistake.
My sisters occupied a crucial spot. They were to my left, where four seats had been arranged for the witnesses. They were in the front, and two men dressed in black sat behind them.
I recognized one of them; he was the one who knocked on the door last night. He continued to look at me suspiciously, who could he be? A cousin of R? His right-hand man maybe? I would find out. I was going to get Andrey working on all the details I had overlooked because of Mentium.
Irisha kept wagging her eyebrows, making eyes, and nodding towards my future husband, indicating her approval. How basic she was! She saw a pretty face and thought he was right for me; if she knew that bastard was our brother”s killer, it would be a different story.
Sarka was distracted, scanning the faces of those gathered with curiosity. She had never attended such a large event that wasn”t a concert.
For a moment, I allowed myself to take in the surroundings. No matter how beautiful the place was, how beautifully it was decorated, and how damn fuckable my future husband looked, my mission remained the same, to end him and all his lineage.
The priest fell silent. I tried to understand why. I realized we had just reached the climax of the ceremony, and there was some kind of problem. I heard Massimo urging R”s young son to bring us the rings, whether he wanted to or not.
It dawned on me that I hadn”t even noticed if the priest had said my future husband”s name. I hadn”t caught it. I was so absorbed in the noise my own thoughts were making that I could only hear myself.
The boy refused to bring the pillow, clinging to his chair. My mother brought out her most maternal skills, offering the boy some promise while giving my father-in-law eyelash flutters that made him lift the corners of his mouth.
Disgusting.
Nothing made the damn kid move.
”Adriano,” R”s voice thundered in a warning tone. The little one immediately shrank back and looked at him with a frightened face. Was he afraid of his father? With all those tattoos, his size, and the reputation he held, I wouldn”t be surprised. Maybe he had laid a hand on him. Italians were very fond of spanking. ”Your grandfather told you to bring the rings, so bring them.”
The little one scowled, I had no idea how old he was, six, seven, eight? It had been too long since I”d seen one that age. Since my sister was little. Not that it mattered how old he was, I wasn”t planning to spend a minute with that brat, let alone act as a mother. I had enough on my plate without wasting time on him.
The boy grabbed the pillow, came up to us grumpily, and when he reached my side, he stomped on my foot so hard it made me see stars and roar, ”Damn son of the devil!”, which fortunately came out in Russian.
By the look on R”s face, he caught that I hadn”t said anything nice to his offspring. As if I would.
The little brat threw the pillow, which flew past my pained face and his father”s perplexed one, to be caught by the priest. What reflexes! He was clearly prepared to catch the communion wafers mid-flight.
As soon as he threw it, Adriano ran back to his seat. He climbed onto the chair and curled his body around his bent knees.
R looked at the boy angrily, and he buried his head between his legs to avoid looking at him.
”Nice kid you have there, you should sign him up for baseball or take him grape stomping. Stomping grapes is much more productive than fucking up my foot, especially since I”m wearing sandals.”
”He needs a mother to teach him right from wrong. Don”t worry, from today you”ll have plenty of time to adjust to each other,” he said sarcastically.
”Excuse me? I”m not his mother, nor a nanny, if you want that, you better find someone else,” I challenged him, ”or maybe we should send him to a boarding school to get rid of so much nonsense. There are some Catholic ones that teach a lot of discipline. Right, father?” I muttered slyly. R looked at me displeased.
”Per favore,” pleaded the priest. ”It”s time for the vows.”
I was eager for all this damn charade to be over once and for all.
I knew the text we had to recite by heart. Massimo had been kind enough to send it to me by order of the priest to my email, so it wasn”t going to be very difficult to answer correctly.
”Husband and wife, do you come to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and willingly?” I almost felt like laughing. R didn”t look at me.
”Yes, we come freely.”
”Are you resolved to love and respect each other for life, in the way of marriage?” ”Of course, the life of my future husband was going to be very short and I planned to love every torture I inflicted on him.”
”Yes, we are resolved.”
”Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God, and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and His Church?” The priest glanced towards the devil incarnate in Adriano, and I swallowed hard.
”Yes, we are prepared.”
I stopped listening to everything around me. I didn”t want to hear a damn word of that sermon. I didn”t want to because I was furious. When I discovered Capulleto”s deceit, I wanted to scream, but I am to blame. One of the things I learned early on in this world is: know your enemy. I failed to do so and made a rookie mistake.
”So, now that you wish to enter into holy matrimony, join your hands, and express your consent before God and His Church.”
Now came the worst part, having to touch him again. Don Capulleto extended his right hand with a stern gesture, and I placed mine in his, feeling a shock that almost split my palm.
”Ouch!” I exclaimed, pulling away abruptly.
He offered me a cynical smile. His eyes sparkled and I didn”t understand why it felt like lightning had struck me, until I saw something fall to the ground, quite discreetly.
R addressed the guests in a joking tone while I massaged my hand.
”You see; sparks fly between us!”
The guests laughed. I squinted and recognized beside his right foot the object that had just fallen. It was one of those damn shock jokes used when you”re a kid. I had no idea what he had done, but as soon as he was distracted, I planned to fry his eggs. Let”s see if he found it so funny when I gave him a shock to the gonads.
Without a word, he grabbed my sore hand and kissed the palm, making me hold my breath. This time all I felt was heat, a lot of heat, added to the visceral hatred that each of his acts woke in me.
He looked at me intensely and pronounced his vows.
”I, Romeo Capuleto Vitale, take you...”
”Julieta,” I interrupted him. Murmurs arose. I was fed up with his little jokes and planned to make that clear. ”Come on, don”t mess with me! Say your real name, not the one you use for your bar flings. What is it? Ramiro, Roberto, Rafaello. Rabo?” I whispered the last one so only he and the priest could hear me.
A slight cough came from the man of God, who must have been as fed up as I was. However, what I saw when I looked at the clergyman made me purse my lips.
My mother was very romantic, Romeo and Juliet was her favorite literary work. She said if she ever had a son, she would name him Romeo.
”Capuleto?” I asked boldly, still in disbelief. If that was his real name, talk about bad taste.
I didn”t care what the guests were thinking or that his mother was a Shakespeare fanatic.
”She thought it was a nice gesture, to unite them in me.”
”If the Montagues were to rise, I don”t think they would find it so amusing,” I grumbled.
”Can we continue?” The priest was getting impatient.
”Sure, now that I know the name of the man I”m marrying, we can proceed,” I nodded. Before Romeo could resume the vows, I murmured softly, ”Let”s hope your name doesn”t carry a prophecy and you die of poisoning; that would be a real tragedy.” He gave me a forced smile, took my face with his free hand, and brought his mouth close to my ear.
”The only one in danger here is you. Be careful, Nikita, the only poison here is the one that drips from your viper tongue, and if you bite yourself, I might become a widower before you realize it,” he whispered silkily, adding a light nibble on my earlobe that the guests cheered. He pulled away, looked at them, and added loudly, ”She”s so wonderful I can barely keep my hands off my future wife thinking about our wedding night.”
A shiver ran up my spine and I clenched my teeth so hard I almost burst my jaw.
Romeo cleared his throat, encouraged by the cheer of those present, and repeated.
”I, Romeo Capuleto Vitale, take you, Nikita Koroleva, to be my wife, and I give myself to you. I promise to be faithful to you in prosperity and in adversity, in health and in sickness, and to love and respect you all the days of my life.” He slipped the white gold wedding band onto the ring finger of my left hand.
My turn.
”I, Nikita Koroleva, take you, Romeo Capuleto Vitale, to be my husband, and I give myself to you. I promise to be faithful to you in prosperity and in adversity, in health and in sickness, and to love and respect you all the days of my life.” I took the ring offered by the priest and slid it onto his trembling finger.
The priest sighed in relief.
”May the Lord confirm this consent you have declared before the Church and grant you His abundant blessing. What God has joined together, let no man separate. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
My now husband”s eyes turned darker and more challenging than before.
He grabbed me by the waist and gave me a devastating kiss that did not shy away from thrusting his tongue, letting the guests witness the carnality of the gesture.
I felt like biting him, but I held back.
He pulled away with the pressure of my lips on his.
”Congratulations, Mrs. Capuleto, you got what you wanted.”