33. Marco
Marco
“You ready for this?”
I glance over to Bianca as she adjusts her breasts in her silver cocktail dress. She’s not wearing a bra, and the double-sided tape she applied to her skin is apparently supposed to be strong enough to keep her nipples from escaping into the world.
I don’t buy it, but I’m smart enough to stay in my own lane.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Bianca cuts me a look, and I raise my hands in surrender. She’s been testy today, but I can’t figure out why.
She snaps down the vanity mirror to adjust the loose tendrils of hair framing her face. I catch her by the elbow before she can pull the door open and bathe us in unwelcome light. “Wait.”
The plan is to impress Zanni by showing him how perfect we are together so that he’ll grant us access to the Library.
No self-respecting husband lets his wife open her own door.
I hurry around to her side of the car, toss the keys to the valet, and help her get out.
Her gorgeous legs are on full display tonight.
Contrary to the longer lengths she usually wears, this cocktail dress falls to her mid-thigh, and all the exposed skin accentuated by her matching silver-gray heels tightens the crotch of my pants.
Seeing her like this steals my breath, even if I know it’s just another role she’s playing.
Pinching her chin between my thumb and finger, I angle her head to examine her makeup in the streetlights’ glow.
I rub my thumb beneath her bottom lip, mostly because I can’t seem to go an hour without conjuring up an excuse to touch her.
If tonight weren’t so important, I’d lay claim to her mouth right here and now, but instead, I lower my hand and tuck it against my side so that I’m not tempted to go back for seconds. “There. Perfect.”
Her eyes hold mine for a long moment before she exhales a shaky breath and laces her fingers with mine. The doorman greets us, directing us both to the wall of elevators across from the front door as if we haven’t already been here a dozen times.
The Council hosts a meeting in their chambers once a month with all the families under their protection. But after the meeting concludes, Paradiso shifts to party mode and occasionally, the masked Councilors will stay and speak more casually with those among our ranks.
This is the first party of its kind that Bianca has attended as my wife, and she drinks in the Councilors’ garish masks with avid curiosity.
The monthly meetings with the Councilors often result in death, dismemberment, or worse, the dismantling of alliances.
Violence within the club may be prohibited for the rest of us peasants unless we receive the Council’s blessing, but the Council plays by its own set of rules.
The families are encouraged to come to Paradiso afterward for a number of reasons.
To collect their dead loved one, to choose another from within the family to assume the newly vacant role, or to receive the Council’s retribution for whatever transgression occurred behind closed doors.
The general air of celebration informs me no one died this time around.
Leandro had assured Bianca and me that Zanni would be present tonight, though so far I haven’t caught sight of the ridiculously long-nosed mask.
The room is full of the usual heavy hitters and, like last time, we weave our way through the crowd together, greeting allies and potential collaborators one by one.
Maybe a future exists where this is our real life instead of some act we cooked up, this farce that ends once we both get what we need.
I can picture Bianca handling all of the back-end things that I hate while I focus on any missions that come up.
Hell, we could conquer all of New York with a combination of well-placed smiles and knives in the dark.
Is this ambition I feel?
I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, mulling over the sensation.
I’ve never wanted power or influence. I know what both require, and it never occurred to me that I would be strong enough to demand the respect the world offered to Dante so easily.
Three months ago, the idea of me as the Argento don would have seemed too preposterous to ever be taken seriously, but now…
I finish up in the restroom and make my way back through the club to where I left Bianca.
Leandro stands next to her, along with several others, but my attention is on the marshal.
He’s been paying extra consideration to Bianca tonight, which is very out of character.
The last time we were all at Paradiso, he barely interacted with her, and now he’s talking to her as if they’re old friends?
The others with them burst out laughing at something Leandro says, and Bianca’s gaze drops in a clear sign of embarrassment.
My jaw hardens, and I cover the distance in just a few strides.
People stumble out of my path, but I barely notice any of them because all of my concentration has narrowed to my wife.
I close in just in time to see Leandro lean toward Bianca, a smirk twisting his mouth.
“When Zanni first told me about his plans for you, I admit that I couldn’t see his vision.
” He chuckles, his eyes raking down her body.
“Most of us were convinced you were such a frigid bitch that Marco’s cock would get frostbite when he tried fucking you, but Ren assured us that there’s some fire under all that ice. ”
Ren. That bastard. It was his job to report to the Council about our wedding night, but bringing that shit to Bianca is unacceptable.
I want to smash Leandro’s fucking face in, but the Council would punish me for defying their rules.
Instead, I stop at Bianca’s side and drape a possessive arm around her waist. “Leandro? It’s good to see you again.
I didn’t have the chance to ask last time, but I was wondering how that statutory rape charge is going.
” I angle my head to one side, schooling my features into a mask of concern.
“It was one of your students, right? That must be really rough for you.”
The mood shifts frighteningly fast. Leandro’s mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. Abruptly, he spins on his heel and saunters off.
Satisfied, I watch him skulk off before glancing down to find Bianca peering up at me in awe. She drapes her arm over mine with a soft smile, and in that moment, I swear I see pride in her eyes. I preen at the approval.
“Well, don’t you two look stunning together.” Zanni’s presence breaks the spell Bianca’s gaze cast on me, and my arm tightens around her waist. The masked Councilor appears out of nowhere, and beyond him, the partygoers gawk at our little group in absolute silence.
The music lowers until I can barely hear it above the harsh rasp of my breathing. Zanni’s mask shifts as if he’s grinning beneath it, and alarm bells clang through my inner ear.
As Zanni glances between us, I have to suppress the urge to shove her behind me. “I heard that you two were looking for me.” The nearby group of eavesdroppers scatter like rats from a sinking ship. “I can’t wait to hear what my favorite newlyweds have to say for themselves.”