Chapter 17 – Alessandro
“ S how Signora Mancini to our room,” I spoke low to Shepherd.
“Does she have luggage, sir?” the butler responded in perfect Italian. One would never know he’d been born and raised in Surrey. He spoke six languages, each without a discernable accent.
“No, but I expect Caravello to send it eventually.” I dabbed my mouth. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“Very good, sir.”
I rose and left the table. My baby sister had spent the entire meal sipping her wine and staring between my bride and me. I didn’t like the way she expressed her clear disapproval. It was my decision to marry, to bind myself to Detroit.
Serena liked drama and the spotlight. She was just mad she hadn’t been involved in the selection of the bride, the bargain with the in-laws, and the party. I kept her away from events like that for the very reason that she was too unpredictable. If I couldn’t control her outbursts, I was unable to protect our image, but more importantly, I wasn’t able to protect Serena. For her safety, I kept her away from business, society, and any other situation where I couldn’t predict the outcome.
But if there was anyone who was a match for my spoilt little sister, it was my wife. I flicked one last glance at Penelope. Dio bono! The way she’d put that flight attendant in a surrender hold. My wife didn’t know I could see the whole thing, and that I’d commanded the other flight attendant to stand down and give Penelope whatever she wanted.
Because that was my wife’s new life. Within reason, so long as it didn’t compromise her safety, she would have whatever her little heart desired.
And if my sister tried anything…. I chuckled to myself as I pushed into my office. I almost wished Serena would try something.
But Penelope eating dinner in her bedraggled bridesmaid dress brought an issue to light. She needed clothes and other feminine necessities. It made no difference what she wore, whether it was the flirty dresses or the blue-collared working girl look, it all appealed to me. The bikini, however…fuck. That starred in several R-rated dreams. I woke every morning since meeting her drenched in sweat with a painful, rock-hard erection.
Shifting in my seat, I played with the small crown around the leather strap at my throat.
Penelope wasn’t vapid like the other mob wives. It was going to be fun watching her spend my money.
“She’s going to be a breath of fresh air,” I mused to myself.
Sitting at my desk, I started up my laptop. The banking information blinked onto the screen moments later. But I wasn’t able to easily navigate the dashboard to do what I wished. Frowning, I dialed my phone.
“Liliana, I need a new charge card,” I clipped the moment the line connected.
The financial officer answered promptly. “Yes, signore, at once. What is the limit?”
The corner of my lip twitched. “No limit. But I want the spending reports sent to my phone so I can monitor the purchases.”
“No limit, signore?” The talented accountant clucked her tongue. “That will require connecting it to several accounts, and looping the trusts through a holding LLC, which would create a stream—”
“I don’t need a business lesson, Lilliana. Make it happen. No limit, no restrictions on purchases. Do you understand? You’ll put it in my wife’s name—Luca will give you her details.”
“Very good.” Liliana was a treasure with a talent for numbers. She could calculate the numbers at an illegal gambling event just in her head, and that was only one of her many skills. When she came to the city, seeking refuge, I made a deal with her in exchange for her services. She was invaluable, and we weren’t letting her leave—which was preferred by her. “The physical card will be delivered first thing in the morning, signore. The accounts will be tied by ten a.m. at the latest.”
“How are your kids?” I asked after a moment. With the trip, I hadn’t been able to do a regular check-in with her.
“Oh, they’re great, Signor Mancini! Thanks for asking.” That note of motherly pride always made me smile. “But, signore?”
“Yes?”
There was a low crackle on the other end of the line as she hesitated. “Did Dante not come back from Detroit with you?”
My smile widened. “He rode his bike back. Should be home today.”
Her relief was tangible. “It’s just, the kids missed having him around,” she explained quickly.
When I gave the assignment to have my newest accountant watched, it surprised me that Dante demanded the job. He was my enforcer, my right hand. House sitting a mom and her kids was regular soldiers’ work. But he told me in no uncertain terms that if I gave the job to anyone else, he would kill them.
Liliana was his to watch over.
Why he continued to keep a professional relationship with her confused the hell out of me. But interfering with the enforcer’s personal feelings wasn’t something I had the time or energy for. So long as Liliana and my accounts were safe, I let them sort it out for themselves.
“Have the card delivered as soon as you can,” I repeated.
“Will do, signore.”
The moment she gave me verbal confirmation, I cut the call. Step one of wooing my wife was in play. Penelope said she hated me? Well, I was the one in control of her life now. She could have whatever her little heart desired, but it came from me.
She would depend on me for everything . Every crumb, every scrap of clothes. And every drop of pleasure.
My dick stirred, pressing against the seam of my pants.
It was time to show her that there was something between us. That chemistry, that fire —we’d danced around it the last few days at her uncle’s. Now that every obstacle had been eliminated, we were able to explore this heat.
All other business could wait until after I sated my wife. Leaving the office, I made my way to our bedroom, anticipation for the exciting evening ahead pulsing in my veins.
The door opened with a crack, and Penelope screamed.
I barely managed to duck as the thick bedside clock sailed across the room. Damn, that woman had an arm on her. I would have to remember that.
“Was that really necessary?” I muttered, shutting the door behind me and throwing the lock.
Penelope’s body shook. Venom leached from her pores, and her gaze promised death from a thousand cuts.
Dio, had there ever been a more beautiful sight? I crossed my arms and leaned back against the door, enjoying the view.
The seething wasp stood there in nothing but a black strapless band around her breasts and a whisp of lace hugging her hips. I had to keep my jaw clenched tight to keep from falling to my knees and licking every delectable inch of her.
Somehow, call me crazy, I didn’t think she was as excited over the prospect of our marital extracurricular activities as I was.
“What are you doing in here?” She spoke slowly, each word dripping with pure, unadulterated wrath.
I tugged at my tie, giving her an amused look. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
She lifted a finger. Whether it shook from anger or fear, perhaps a mixture of both, it was hard to say. “Out. Out! ”
Dropping my tie on the settee at the foot of the bed, I frowned. “Why would I leave?”
“I’m not having sex with you,” she said through clenched teeth.
I blew out a short breath. I half expected those words. Had I hoped for a different answer? Naturally. But given the rollercoaster of events, I was prepared to just fall asleep beside her, hard as that was going to be.
But it still was disappointing.
My wife looked like a goddess sent to bring mortal men to their deaths. And I would happily fall on the swords of my enemies just for a taste of that.
I had to recognize and admit my attraction to this woman. If I didn’t want it to rule me or dominate my existence, it couldn’t be ignored.
“I’m tired as well. Tonight, we’ll just sleep,” I said softly.
The last thing I want is to force you, beautiful.
“Great! Goodnight,” she barked, flicking her fingers in a dismissive gesture.
I cocked my head, studying her. It took a moment, but the objection dawned on me. Penelope thought this was her room.
Forcing down the dark laughter, I asked casually, “You thought this was your room, wife?”
Penelope flung her arms wide. “It’s where Carson brought me!”
I frowned. “Carson?”
Penelope waved her hands in annoyance. “A British drama show reference—wouldn’t expect an ape like you to have enough culture to know it.”
I might not, but Shepherd likely would understand the reference.
“Oh, please call Shepherd that to his face,” I muttered. He would eat her alive for that comparison. Louder, I added, “This is my bedroom.”
A beat passed. If she had a gun, I had no doubt she would have pulled the trigger to fill the silence. “Fine!” she snapped. “I’ll leave.”
Shaking my head, I stepped into her path. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”
Penelope didn’t stop. She advanced. Shoved me. I narrowed my gaze, but she didn’t budge. “Move, lupo.”
“Since you seem so confused by the situation, let me explain it, but listen closely because I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.” I took a deep breath, fingers itching to grab her and close the remaining distance. From this proximity, her intoxicating scent swirled to my nose, it was floral with a hint of dark musk. “You’re my wife. You’ll sleep in my room. You’ll wear my ring. And you won’t talk to any other men.”
“Oh, is that all?” she snapped, tugging the wedding band from her pinky. Arm flung wide, she tossed the ring across the room. It bounced and rolled away.
Not that it mattered. I planned to buy her a beautiful set sometime this week.
“For now,” I smirked. “Follow these rules, and we’ll have an amicable relationship.”
Her chest rose and fell with hard breaths. If she was prone to crying, this would be the moment where the waterworks started. Those blank orbs might sparkle a little brighter, but she didn’t shed a single tear.
“That’s all I am to you, a possession.” She threw her arms wide. “Fine, do your marital duty.”
I jerked forward before I could stop myself. But I didn’t touch. I was not that man. Unlike the demon who raised me, I didn’t hit, didn’t force myself on anyone, man or woman.
But how would Penelope know that? To her, I was the man my father tried to mold, and mostly succeeded.
“I said, we don’t have to do anything tonight,” I ground out.
“Why wait? You clearly want it.” She pointed to the hard length in my pants.
I blew out a hard breath. “I’m not the villain you make me out to be, Penelope.”
“You forced me into this match—”
I began to protest, but she continued to talk over me.
“You drug me to this city. You are forcing me to sleep in your room, so why the hell not take my body too? Huh? It’s your husbandly right, isn’t it?” When I didn’t answer, she raised her voice. “Isn’t it?!”
“Is sharing a room with me really that bad?” I demanded.
Penelope shrugged. “It’s another layer of control ripped away from me.”
Fucking hell, didn’t this woman see that she had it a thousand times better than most females in the mob?
She didn’t grow up one of us. She truly didn’t know.
“So do your worst.” Penelope backed up until her thighs hit the bed. She sat hard, but never broke eye contact. Pulled like a damn marionette, I moved until I stood over her. “I don’t consent to this. You can force me, and I can’t stop you, but I won’t give it to you.”
I let out a burst of pure anger. “I’m not that kind of devil!”
Penelope shrugged. “But you’re not a saint.”
Leaning over her made her wince. “I am not touching you, wife, until you fall to your knees and beg me for it. This I vow on my mother’s grave.”
Spinning on my heel, I stormed to the bathroom.
“I’m not the kind of girl who begs,” she called after me, but the door to the en suite cut off her response.
The shower blasted cold water onto my crawling skin. Her words cut deeper than I would ever admit. There were real demons in the underworld. Hell, I’d known them. Suffered at their hands. Killed them.
Become one? No…I somehow escaped that horror.
But how was she to know that? I wrenched the soap over my body, viciously scouring the skin in a failed attempt to cleanse the feeling.
Cursing, I dropped my head against the shower wall. “What do I do now?”
I had a wife who had kissed me like she needed it to breathe. Yet the next moment, when I cleared the obstacles, she turned away.
There was an undeniable chemistry here! Was I a bastard if I wanted to pursue it? Was that so wrong? When I knew on some level she wanted it too?
Through the chaos, the answer dawned on me. I was the monster who tried to marry her baby cousin, only to substitute at the last second when an alternative became the only option. And she no doubt saw her own actions as saintly, salvific. Righteous. I groaned.
“She needs to get to know me.” I banged my head into the tile.
Patience ….
“I can do that.” After all, it was how I built this empire. Penelope had no idea the force she was messing with. She could wait years, and eventually, she would have to admit there was something physical with us.
When I emerged, ready to apologize and explain that I would sleep in the guest room for tonight, I found my bride curled up—on the floor. That angered me. I would never ask a woman to sleep on that hard surface, and yet from the way she held herself rigid, I knew it would be more of a fight to demand she return to the bed.
Fine, play it your way. I took the thin sheet, flopped into the bed, and eventually lost myself to sleep. But only after I vowed to every saint listening that I would show her I was not the vile being she claimed me to be.