Chapter 16
NICO
Standing at the edge of my bed, I gazed at the woman lying in it.
Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been someone else; now, she was the wife of one of the most powerful men in the country, and she looked like an angel.
Her dark hair spread across the pillow like silk, one hand curled under her cheek, the other resting on the spot where I had been.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow across her skin.
Buttoning up my shirt, I exited my room, leaving her to sleep.
She was the first woman I'd allowed into my private residence, and she would be the only one.
"Good morning, Mr. Venosa." My cook smiled as she set the plate of breakfast in front of me. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon filled the kitchen.
"Morning, Camilla. Thank you."
"Will your new bride be joining you this morning?" She beamed and waited for my answer, her eyes twinkling with barely concealed excitement.
"She was sound asleep when I left her in the room, so I doubt it." I smiled as I looked at Camilla. It wouldn't surprise me if she slept until noon after last night. We'd barely slept at all, and when we had, she'd been curled against me, her breath warm on my chest.
"It was a busy day yesterday; she no doubt needs her rest." Camilla smiled and looked at me with an arch of her brow before she turned back to the stove.
She was an older woman who had been here since I was a boy.
She was like a second mother to me after all these years.
She saw everything that happened in this home, and never spoke a word about it.
"Yes, it was," I said as I looked back at the breakfast before me.
Reaching for the paper, I unfolded it and stared at a wedding photo of Emilia and me.
Of course, this was front-page news, and of course, it was an unsolicited photo.
Calling the head of the newspaper would be the first thing I did this morning.
The headline read "Venosa-Carminatti Union: Power Shift in Chicago Underworld.”
"Has my family woken up yet?"
"The only ones that are still here are your mother and sister. All the others had early flights." She smiled at me because she knew I'd booked all the flights and made sure they were as early as I could make them, so they'd be out of my house.
"Ah, Mrs. Venosa, good morning. What can I get you for breakfast?
" Camilla's words floated through the air like a song.
I watched Camilla's face briefly fall, and her eyes flit to me.
Shaking my head slightly, her pleasant demeanour had returned.
Lowering the paper, I saw my wife standing across from me wearing one of my shirts.
She'd buttoned it all the way except the top two, which, when she turned, gave me a glimpse of the curve of her breast. Her hair was still damp from a shower, hanging in waves down her back.
"Do you have more of what Mr. Venosa is eating?
It looks delicious." She leaned over the table, surveying what was on my plate.
Emilia smiled at my cook, and I watched her eyes grow large when Camilla set a plate before her.
"Thank you so much." She said, sitting down beside me.
My shirt rode up, I saw her toned thigh, and an ache grew in me to touch her again. To slide my hand up that smooth skin.
"I must run home; I think I left my stove on." Camilla patted my shoulder as she left, giving us privacy.
"Where does she live?" Emilia asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.
"This compound sits on six hundred and forty acres, and all the staff who work for me live on this property.
It's fully protected, and I'm able to keep people close but not in my home.
" I returned my gaze to the newspaper but didn't comprehend anything I was reading.
All I could focus on was her sitting beside me, the scent of my soap on her skin.
"I'm impressed that you're able to house your employees. It gives an added level of security and trust." The direction of her voice turned, and I looked around the edge of the news.
"Why are you wearing my shirt?"
"It was the first thing I saw when I walked into the closet, except for the black dress from last night, and I was pretty sure you didn't want me wandering through your home trying to find someone to zip it up.
" She reached for her coffee and took a sip.
I watched her close her eyes and enjoy that mouthful, as if she were making love to it. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
"No, I definitely don't want that. I will have all your belongings moved over to our room today. We need to discuss a few things." Folding the paper, I grabbed my coffee and waited.
"Would you like to do that here or in your office?" She asked, pushing her plate away. It was empty, and I wondered if she had inhaled her food. "I was starving, between my nerves yesterday morning and being interrupted while at dinner yesterday, all I had to eat was the cake last night."
"From now on, you eat, if we are out at a function and you're being interrupted, I want you to let me know.
" She nodded and looked down at the cup in her hands.
Getting off the stool I was on, I grabbed the coffee pot and topped her up, before doing the same to mine.
"Now, expectations for this marriage. I won't pretend that we're in love, but we must portray that when in public.
We make appearances together, you will serve on boards for charities we support, and we will have to hold a few dinner parties.
" I watched her grimace and found it amusing.
"Do I get to have any expectations?"
"Of course." This was not how I'd planned this conversation to go, but I shouldn't have been surprised. If I'd learned nothing else about my bride, I knew she was headstrong and had a mind of her own.
"If I say no, you have to respect that, I'm not a plaything, I'm your wife."
"Agreed."
"I won't tolerate you entertaining your mistresses under this roof." She sat a little straighter on the stool, squared her shoulders and sounded much more confident than she looked as she avoided eye contact with me.
Reaching out, I gently put my hand on hers.
A thrill of electricity ran through me. I liked touching my wife, and I wanted to do it more often.
"There will never be a mistress in this house.
" It wasn't a lie; there wouldn't be, ever.
I watched her eyes close briefly. "There won't be any in this house, or anywhere else, Emilia.
I might be a lot of things, but an adulterer isn't one of them. Why is this so important to you?"
She picked up her mug of coffee and took a sip before looking back at me.
"My father routinely does it to my mother, and I can't imagine anything more humiliating for a wife than to see her husband parading through her home with the side piece he brought home the night before.
" Her eyes were sad, and I couldn't help but move my hand to rest on her cheek.
I knew her father was a bastard, but I hadn't expected him to be that bold. "There's only you, Emilia. If there is ever anyone else, you can kill me. Understood?” She nodded slowly.
She sipped her coffee and stared at me. "What's the expectation for me working alongside you?"
"You won't be."
I watched her jaw tighten, and her eyes shifted from soft to hard, ready to kill in an instant.
At that moment, she was the woman I'd seen in that warehouse.
"And why not? Haven't I proven myself capable of doing what needs to be done?
" She was adorable when she was mad. Sitting there with her arms crossed and her bottom lip painfully close to pouting.
"No wife of mine will be out doing the things I have to deal with." I reached for my coffee and braced myself for what was coming.
"No wife of yours? Well, isn't that convenient?
The biggest threat to your power is now under your control.
" She stood and moved closer to me. "All that talk of respect, how I was beautiful, and what did you say?
Sexy as hell was just a way to get me to spread my legs for you, wasn't it?
It was all a ploy to get me to submit to you.
" Turning, she began to pace the floor. Her bare feet slapping against the tile, my shirt swirling around her thighs.
"Fuck, I'm so stupid. The first man who says nice things to me, and I let him in my pants.
" She stopped pacing and stalked toward me.
"I won't be making that mistake again, so I hope you enjoyed your wedding night, because there won't be any more marital duties happening between you and me.
" She was inches from my face now. Her eyes burned with anger, and I was glad the steak knives were across the room.
"Good morning, newlyweds, what are your plans today?" My mother and Lorenzo walked into the kitchen smiling, unaware of the lion's den they walked into.
"Arranging an annulment," Emilia said as she stormed out of the kitchen. Her exit was dramatic, the shirt billowing behind her like a cape.
"Well, this is going about as well as I expected," Lorenzo said, smiling as he poured coffee for himself and my mom.
"Are you going after her?" My mother looked behind her before looking back at me.
"Nope." Grabbing my coffee, I leaned on the counter. She'd be back apologizing, making this right. Women always came back.
"Niccolò Dante Venosa, you do not leave your new wife seething mad. You go after her and find out how to fix this." She used my full name, the only thing that makes me worry slightly.
"Mother, she wants to work alongside me, run the organization with me; there's no fixing this. It can't happen." I said sharply, trying to convey that this conversation was over.
"And I'm sure you told her that in a way that made her feel valued and appreciated for wanting to take some of the stress off your plate." She narrowed her eyes at me and frowned.
"No, I told her no wife of mine would be involved in this business. Period."
"Boy, you might be the dumbest man on the planet." Lorenzo shook his head and handed my mother her cup.
"What? I don't want her involved in the danger anymore. She doesn't have to risk her life now that she's married."
"Maybe don't go talk to her, you're not doing yourself any favours.
" The man took a seat across from me and sighed.
"The number one way to get a woman to do something is to tell her she can't. I would bet you a thousand dollars she's up in your office making calls and finding out what Carminatti men were involved in the failed attempt on you this week. "
"She wouldn't, she vowed her loyalty to me." I leaned over the table and pointed to myself.
"Nothing to do with loyalty, son. Your wife's the only link to the control you have over that family.
They don't answer to Vincent anymore; they sure as hell don't answer to you yet.
They answer to her, and right now that organization is in turmoil.
She knows they're volatile, and you just told her to be quiet because she's a wife now. "
"Why didn't we go on a honeymoon?" I grumbled under my breath as I pushed away from the counter.
"Nico, where are you going?" My mother asked with a lilt of humour in her voice.
"To find my wife. If you hear shooting, bury me in the suit I wore yesterday." At least they waited until I was out of the kitchen to laugh at me. It was time to kick all my family out of my house.