Chapter-26🌜 Legally ruined.
Zane's POV
Ring-ring-ring
The constant ringing of my alarm clock wakes me up in an instant, as if I haven't even been asleep a second before.
My eyes squint to the natural light coming inside my suit from the floor-to-ceiling window.
Call me deliciously fucked, because do you know what's the first thing my idiotic brain goes to?
None other than, a certain someone with dark brown eyes, and a mole near his plump lips. The same full lips that sneer when he's close to me.
You know who's the biggest psycho in the whole fucking history? Zane Valentino Belladonna, aka me. Because while he was sneering at me-clearly pissed at me for God knows which crime-I was busy staring at his rosy red lips.
Mesmerized with the dip of his flawless cupid's bow, as the left corner of his upper lip curled into a sneer. As it always does. But who's observing? Definitely not me.
When they did last night-well, to be fair it wasn't last night, if this happened, what, eight hours ago? With his hands deep inside his pockets and a determined look in his eyes-like he's Napoleon himself-he had left to figure out his stay on his own.
I had contemplated following him, but then my own words had made my forehead twitch with a headache.
I would have blamed it on my lack of sleep-if I weren't so self-aware to know better.
It was not just that. I wish it was though, because it's worse.
'I won't bother you.' That's what I had said. That's what I had promised him.
So when he was leaving-he clearly didn't want me near him.
So I didn't.
My eyes were on him only and I did see how he was moving towards that gate like a raging bull to a red flag. And then he stumbled on the steps.
Which made me snicker a little not gonna lie...
But then that bloody concern took over. Although, it was gone the moment he recovered with a violent, jerky motion and immediately fixed his hair.
Not letting a single strand mess up his look. Always prim and proper.
Then he tilted his head a little, so that it was a little over his shoulder-just to sneer and walk even faster.
'As if even that was also my fault' I shook my head.
Am I cracked in the head, if I thought that was kinda cute? Maybe.
But that was hours ago. I haven't seen the raging bull since then. And I know when I will see him next-in two hours. Standing in his tux for our own fucking wedding.
Well that reminds me, I need to get ready. The fitting and stuff was already finalized. So now I just need to shower then wear my tux and I am ready to wed my human bull.
I just hope this bull doesn't decide to gore me tonight.
...On another thought, it won't be that bad.
??
I am standing in front of the mirror in my wedding costume-yeah a costume. Because I am feeling like a character in a play directed by my dad.
My costume of the day consists of a pure jet black tux, with a thick and weighty fabric.
It holds the shape of my body impeccably. From broad and structured shoulders to a very tapered waist that you will almost feel like I am wearing a corset.
It is making me feel like I am wearing an armour suit-if there wasn't this high collar with a black-on-black baroque detailing on it.
I know it's part of a tradition and my dad is all up for them. So I know this cape-which is nearly the length of calves-is necessary.
The whole look is completed with a silk shirt and my polished shoes. Which again are black-tradition.
I look at my reflection one more time and can't help but give it a little wink.
What? I have eyes, you know?. And I am very much gay to know a chic when I see one.
There's a knock on my door so I open it, and here's my cousin, and one of the only people I trust and confide in this family, Matteo.
"Are you ready?" He asks me before his eyes take a look at me. "You look well...okay." He smirks.
"...Okay?" I shake my head. "You don't look bad yourself."
He doesn't. He is wearing a black tux-again, tradition. Though his is not as dramatic as mine. Minus the cape and the royal detailing.
He starts laughing, "Don't be pissy Fratellone! You look handsome."
That bastard. He invites himself in, lounging with a childish bubbliness that shouldn't belong to a twenty-three-year-old man.
He's still so silly, so teen-like, that if you didn't know him-if you weren't blood-you'd never guess he was the heir apparent to the Visconti Empire. You'd never believe this is the man meant to rule one of the most formidable mafias in Sicily.
"Tell me something I don't know." I shrug as I shut the door behind him.
"Am I smelling arrogance here?" He sniffs like a dog with a bone.
"Nope. Just stating facts." I go back to adjusting that one strand of hair which keeps falling from my head.
Matteo and Malvolio are my maternal cousins. Both sons of my zio Dante.
Our families are close, and this was part of the reasons why this marriage was held in Sicily.
The other being the roots of Belladonna Cosca in Castellammare del Golfo.
Matteo goes straight to the mini-bar in my suit and to take out a bottle of whiskey or beer probably.
I am proven right as he comes back in my room with two glasses of whiskey on rocks and the bottle tucked in his arms.
"Not in a mood." I decline as he offers me a glass. I am not really into alcohol, some of it here and there occasionally. Not more than that.
Unless I am so emotionally fucked that I am using it as a coping mechanism-like after that night on the cliff.
The current scenario isn't any different either... because the cause is still the same-William.
"Loosen up a little, it's your own wedding." He tries to ease me. Usually peer pressure doesn't work on me... but today I feel like I do need it.
When I take the glass from him, I gulp it down in one go, he warns me, "Take it easy." Then he takes a sip of his own-not as animalistic as me though. "We need to get you down in like..." he checks it on his analog wrist watch, and then completes. "Twenty minutes for the ceremony."
I nod, "have the guests arrived?" He knows that I don't give a flying fuck about those guests. My question is about the outfits like us. The ones which can cause trouble.
"Russians are here." He tells me, his voice is on alert just from the mention of them. But his eyebrows frown as he says, "Dimitri himself didn't come through. In fact his son has arrived." He bottoms up his glass and says, "but I don't know if Kazimir coming here instead is a good thing or not."
That makes me go still, bringing my self grooming to a pause. I look at Matteo from the mirror and our eyes meet and he looks as serious as this news has made me. There's a deep wrinkle on his forehead as he's thinking about this information.
This is enough for a nerve around my eye to twitch.
Because Dimitri himself not being here means one thing-he is offended.
Kazimir is his son and the future Pakhan, sure.
But Dimitri will never send him alone-especially not a huge event like this, where stakes would be this high-either it would be just him or with his son's company.
But never just Kazimir.
What I can't understand is, if that was the case-their family would have avoided arrival entirely and not this. There's something happening beneath the carpet. Something we can't see right now.
I turn back to him, "how's he behaving? Anything suspicious?" I enquire.
Matteo just shakes his head, "That is the weirdest part, because he seems to be behaving normal." He tells me and then adds, "I mean as normal as he usually behaves. Quiet and isolated."
"So, no interactions or chaos?" I mean if he says 'yes' to that then that will be unlikely for Kazimir.
For all the times I have met him, he was an introverted and self-absorbed kinda guy.
Walking with dad when he is introducing him to his business associates, otherwise just being alone like a lone wolf.
He is the same age as me, but we haven't really talked with each other. He is a man of few words, and so am I-unless you are close.
"Weird..." I trail with just a word when every instinct in me to do something. Anything.
Then another thing comes to my mind, "what about Vance and Malvolio? Are they up to something?" I raise a brow as I question him about our respective twin brothers.
"No idea." He tells me. He has put that glass down and has crossed his arms in his 'our ass are getting beaten' kinda way.
We both know the rot that lives in our brothers.
They aren't just close-they are a coiled knot of vipers, feeding off the same poison.
They've always been more loyal to their shared depravity than to our blood, a united front of cruelty that has pricked at our skin since we were children.
They don't just walk together-they hunt together.
So while I am closer to Matteo, Vance has Malvolio. So if this duo is up to something... it won't be good.
"Anyway, it's time..." He comes forward and puts his hand on my back and then gives it a pat. "Let's go."
Let's get this over with.
Get me legally ruined.
A/N??
How was the chapter, hmm?
You got to know about Matteo, what do you think about him?
Kazimir... Who's he? Do we trust him chat???
Thoughts? ??
Comments? ??
Votes? ??
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