Chapter Four
Matteo
“I now pronounce you, husband and wife!”
I’ve never given much thought to marriage or the woman I would vow my devotion to.
Least of all, the ceremony that would bind us together.
Hell, I half expected today to be a total waste of time.
Would have opted for a courthouse ceremony to wrap things up if my father hadn't been firm on a church wedding.
It’s what your mother would have wanted.
The man always knows the right buttons to push.
My mother meant the world to my brothers and me.
Family, she always insisted, was the most important thing in the world.
She was a devout Catholic; hence the reason I didn't put up much of a fight when my father insisted on holding the ceremony in a church.
Heaven knows none of the Rossi boys deserve to set foot in any place considered remotely holy.
Still, I went along with it. Expected the whole deal to be boring.
I was wrong.
I couldn't take my eyes off my pretty bride long enough to focus on whatever was happening around us. I could still taste her on my lips. The sweet tanginess of her arousal clung to my taste buds as the priest droned on and on about the sanctity of marriage.
Hours later, with a shiny gold band on my ring finger, dancing to some boring wedding song, and I still can't take my eyes off her. Sofia Marino… no, Sofia Rossi is a beauty. With or without the white gown, she’s quite easily the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
The emerald resting on her collarbone shines as bright as her eyes. So beautiful…
And mine.
I keep my hand on the small of her waist as we dance, the silk of her dress brushing against my legs as we glide on the polished floor. My eyes stay locked on hers as they've been from the moment she walked down the aisle toward me.
She is the picture of prim and proper, my lovely bride. Back straight, eyes looking down, and that delicate mouth set in a slight pout. A picture-perfect sight of submission, and I can tell the wedding guests are buying it. I heard the whispers earlier, quite laughable.
That Marino girl is so sweet.
That fucking Rossi devil is going to eat her alive.
How lovely is that girl? No wonder her parents have kept her hidden from the public.
So innocent…
Oh, they have no idea.
It's ironic, really. That I, too, believed Sofia Marino to be a fragile little thing I would need to constantly keep watch over lest she break. The memory of those pretty green eyes glaring at me back in the bridal suite has the edges of my mouth tugging into a grin.
"Which version is the real you, I wonder?" Those pretty eyes look up from the floor and meet mine. Lord above, they’re beautiful. “Is it this innocent naive face you put on for a crowd or the temperamental little thing that throws a fit in private?”
She scowls at me before she remembers herself and where we are, quickly softening her expression with a smile. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late to ask about my true nature?”
I spin her slowly, watching as she twirls before pulling her flush against me.
I lean down and take a deep breath, the scent of her perfume filling my senses as I trace my lips over the curve of her cheek, smiling when she shudders.
“I wonder what side of you I’ll see when I have you naked under me. ”
Her gasp is soft, and when I pull back, I see the flush of her cheeks. “I’m not… I… This is not an appropriate time to say something like that." The pink in her cheeks deepens. “Maybe you are used to being lewd, but I was raised with manners.”
I chuckle. “That’s not what you were saying when I had my fingers buried under your dress earlier–”
Her hand comes up and clamps over my mouth, cutting off the rest of my words and, quite frankly, the rest of my thoughts.
A slight touch… and the glare in those beautiful eyes has my cock hardening in an instant. I’m half dizzy with need. Fuck, I’ve been trying not to think about what happened in her bridal suite.
The taste of her.
The feel of her smooth, silky skin against my hard, calloused fingers.
“What happened earlier…" she starts, slowly drawing her hand from my mouth, "will not happen again. I'm not… sleeping with you. I don't even know you!"
It should irritate me. Her constant denial of this union should piss me off, but there is a sick thrill at knowing just how exciting it’ll be to prove her wrong.
I will touch her.
And she’ll beg me not to stop.
It’ll be exciting to watch my stubborn little treasure come apart in my arms, but I don’t challenge her with the truth.
Instead, I hold her close as we waltz in silence and in sync.
My arms stay wrapped possessively around her narrow waist even as the music winds down and the dimmed ballroom turns bright with light indicating the end of the couple’s dance.
We’re surrounded in seconds, and Giovanni is already taking my wife’s hand.
“I believe it’s time for the father and daughter dance,” he says. I let him take Sofia’s hand, keeping my eyes on her even as he leads her further away.
A hand claps my shoulder, pulling my focus away from my bride and her father. I’m met with the grinning faces of my groomsmen. My three brothers: Antonio, Dante, and Lorenzo, along with my best friend, turned stepbrother, Nicolo.
“Congratulations, fratello,” Antonio says, slapping my shoulder with a wide grin. “You got yourself a good one. Maybe I should ask you to find me someone, too.”
"As if any woman would want to marry your ugly mug," Dante teases him, earning him a glare from Antonio.
“You’re one to talk,” Antonio retorts before turning to me. “Now that you’ve fulfilled Dad’s condition. It’s only a matter of time before he retires and you become don.”
“How about we shelve the shop talk for another time,” Nicolo cuts in, reminding my brothers with a quick nod that we’re not exactly in a place where we can openly talk about family business. “Besides, today is all about Matteo and his beautiful bride.”
Before I can respond, a voice cuts in from behind.
“Your brother is right, Matteo. Today is about you and Sofia.” I turn around to find my father approaching with his wife, Estella.
I've always found it odd that my stepmother shares certain qualities with my late mother. A part of me has wondered if that’s why he married again twenty years after losing his first wife.
Seeing an echo of the love of his life in another woman.
Nicolo walks toward Estella and greets her with a kiss on the cheek.
There lies another oddity in our family.
I never thought that my best friend and right hand would become my stepbrother.
Marriage joins yet another family together.
But where my father’s first marriage was arranged by his own father, this one was for love from the beginning.
I watch Estella whisper something to Nicolo and discreetly point to a table on the left.
I follow their eyes to my other stepbrother, Bruno.
He’s staring darkly into a glass of whiskey and clearly unnerving the other guests at his table.
He must notice our attention on him because he lifts his glass in a toast with a grim smile that makes me wonder what the fuck is going on with him.
Nicolo nods at whatever instructions his mother gives him and, with a last look at my other brothers, makes his way to Bruno.
Estella excuses herself as well, followed by my brothers, leaving my father and me standing alone on the dance floor.
He’s watching her—my bride.
“So, what do you think of her?” he asks.
I laugh. “Does it matter now? I am already married to her. What I think is moot.”
He turns to me, his expression somber. “I know you think that a man is strong alone and that kind of arrogance is what makes you the most suited of my sons to become the don but it's that same arrogance that will lead to your downfall if you're not grounded.
" His eyes turn to the girl waltzing with her father.
"Sofia reminds me of your mother when we first married. Antonia came from a powerful family in Naples—as influential as mine.. She was petite and seemed delicate, but she had such quiet strength beneath it all. My lovely Antonia made me earn her love and trust.”
His tone grows wistful as he speaks. “It’s because I had a beautiful wife and kids at home that I was able to wade through these streets and come out unscathed.
” He turns to me, clapping my shoulder as my brother had earlier.
“A wife is a gift from the heavens, Matteo, even to men like us. Especially for men like us. Do not neglect your marriage simply because you made it a business arrangement, son. You chose her—now choose to make it work. One day you will thank me for pushing you to marry.”
“We’ll see.”
“You are a stubborn man, Matteo,” he laughs, a booming voice that comes from his chest. “You made a smart deal with Giovanni Marino—his wealth and connections combined with our power and influence.
But you chose a bride, not just a business partner.
Don't forget that. Now I need to find your sister for our father-daughter dance.
" He turns to look around, smiling when he spots the baby of the family, Gabriella, chatting with her friends.
“Ah, there she is!” With another pat on my shoulder, he leaves.
I stand alone on the dance floor, watching Sofia interact with those around her.
I watch as the expression on her face changes with every dance partner.
The polite smile on her face that doesn’t touch her eyes seems reserved for her father but changes when her sisters join in.
I watch as my bride's features soften and those green eyes light up like a beacon, the air around her shifting to ease…
And I want her.
Fucking hell, but I want to touch her. Kiss that stubborn mouth again and feel it yield under mine. Those eyes, I want them dazed, her cries echoing as I take her.