Chapter 14 | Bianca
Bianca
Icooked a huge pot of red sauce and made homemade ravioli, thankful for the distraction as Michael worked.
Anticipation hummed in my veins at the thought of consummating my marriage.
As I helped Leticia and Carmen clean the kitchen, I wrapped my head around the still-unbelievable words: I was married to Michael Caruso.
“Are you talking to yourself, dear?” Carmen asked, sidling up behind me and patting my shoulder.
“I guess so,” I replied, realizing I’d said the words aloud. “Did you meet Michael at some point over the years? I’m quite confused about your familiarity with him.”
Carmen grinned. “I have been sworn to secrecy, querida, but I’ll tell you that he was always very watchful of you. Very protective. Even if you didn’t know, he did his best to take care of you.”
Confusion furrowed my brow. “How? I don’t understand—”
“There is too much to tell, and I gave my word,” she said, shaking her head. “But I’ll tell you that Michael is the one who always sent the flowers you love.”
My features contorted with shocked surprise. Each year, on Alexis’s birthday, I always received a gorgeous bouquet of Italian bellflowers. They were native to Italy, and I always assumed one of Victor’s men’s wives sent them to celebrate Alexis.
But Alexis had also been born on the exact date of the night I met Michael on the dock all those years ago. Had he sent the flowers to me each year as a symbol that he...remembered? That he still cared?
“Don’t scowl like that, dear,” Carmen said, shaking her finger. “It gives you wrinkles, and we need you to look pretty for your husband.”
Michael strode into the kitchen and glanced around. “Is the pasta ready?”
“Yes,” I said, nervously hoping he’d like my cooking. “Did you get all your calls made?”
“For today, yes. I put the word out that we’re married, and I expect the news will spread rapidly.”
The gravity of the decisions I’d made over the past few hours slammed into me like a freight train, and I gnawed my lip, realizing that I was truly promised to Michael. Forever. My life had drastically changed in less than twenty-four hours...
“Hey,” he said, walking toward me and cupping my cheek. “It’s our wedding night, and I hope you’re not already regretting it. I’d like to enjoy some of your pasta, stella. Your worries will still be there tomorrow. For now, come sit with me.”
Assured by his calm confidence, I followed him to the dining room. We sat down for our first official dinner as husband and wife as nerves pulsed steadily throughout my body. Michael opened a bottle of red wine, and we made small talk as we enjoyed our first meal together.
Afterward, Leticia and Carmen cleared the plates, and Michael refilled my glass.
“Come. I want to show you something.”
He led me through the large mansion to a greenhouse attached to the home. We trailed through the different flowers and herbs as surprise swished through me.
“I can’t believe you have a greenhouse.”
He smiled as we stood before one of the rows of fresh herbs. “After I spent the summer with my grandmother in Italy, I was spoiled and would only eat fresh herbs and spices.”
“Ah, yes, I remember,” I said, sipping my wine. “You got to go to college and travel abroad while I got married and had a baby. Doesn’t seem quite fair, although Alexis was worth it.”
His expression turned curious. “Did you end up going to college?”
I flashed a wry smile. “You know I didn’t. Mafia wives don’t get degrees.”
Michael’s smile deepened. “Well, my mafia wife does. I want you to get your degree, Bianca, however you wish. Although it’s probably best if you start online. In-person classes will require too much protection, and I need to focus all of my efforts on cleaning up Victor’s messes.”
My eyebrows lifted. “You want me to...go to college?”
“Yes,” he said, lifting a shoulder as if it were normal for a mafia husband to tell his forty-two-year-old wife to get a degree. “If it makes you happy, I want it for you.”
I blinked rapidly. My life had been a whirlwind of recent betrayals, and although I inherently felt I could trust Michael, I was wary.
After sipping the last of my wine, I twirled the glass in my hands as I studied him.
“I see the Italian bellflowers over there. Carmen says that you sent them to me each year on Alexis’s birthday. ”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes full of mysteries I longed to decode. “And the anniversary of the night we met. The night I promised you something that I failed to deliver. Until now.”
Confusion marred my features, warring with disbelief. Had he truly thought of me during all those long, lonely years? It made no sense to my logical brain.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked, allowing the uncertainty to surface. “I’ve given you my loyalty. You’ll have it as long as you protect Alexis. The rest is a bit...perplexing.”
His eyes drilled into me as he sipped the last of his wine. He didn’t answer, and instead gestured with his head toward the doorway. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
I swallowed thickly, anxiety swirling with anticipation as I followed him.
We walked through the kitchen, setting both glasses on the counter, before he took my hand and led me upstairs.
When we approached his bedroom door at the end of the long hallway, he tugged me inside and closed the door behind him.
A lamp shone dimly on the nightstand beside the king-sized bed, but otherwise, the room felt dark. Mysterious. Intimate.
Michael drew me toward the large window and pointed to the night sky. “A full moon. Just like the night we met.”
Facing him, I was suddenly overwhelmed with questions. What the hell was I doing? How had this happened so fast? Should I have waited longer and tried to find a different solution?
Instead, I lifted my chin and asked the most important question of all: “Why didn’t you come? All those years ago in the warehouse? I waited for you, and you didn’t come.”
Sighing, he splayed his hand and pointed at his fingernails. “You see this?” he asked, his voice low and gravely. “Most of them grew back fine, but this one,” he tapped his pinkie, “it grew back quite crooked. Perhaps to leave me a reminder of how terribly I failed you.”
I touched his pinkie nail, running my finger over it as I tried to understand. He’d somehow lost his fingernails? Had he been tortured? Suddenly, realization hit and I gasped as my gaze flew to his.
“No,” I whispered.
“Victor saw us under the dock,” he said, shaking his head with regret. “I knew I lingered with you for too long, but I hadn’t been able to resist. I paid for that dearly; we both did.”
“Who tortured you?” I asked, feeling the tears form as my chin wobbled. “Did Victor—”
“No, that bastard turned two of my men and had them do his dirty work.” He lifted his hand to my jaw, cupping it as he spoke so reverently. “I’m so sorry, Bianca. I told you that I chose you and I meant it. I just couldn’t reach you before it was too late.”
“All this time,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I thought you deserted me.”
His shattered breath washed over me as he took my face in his hands and pressed his forehead to mine. “Never, mia,” he whispered, brushing his lips over mine. “I always choose you.”
My arms flew around his neck as I moaned, the sound sad and filled with the regret of a young love so tragically lost. Tears streamed down my face as he enveloped me in a torrid kiss. His hands roved over my back...my hips...my backside, and I longed to feel his naked skin against mine.
Sex had never been pleasurable for me. Victor had always done his best to pump his release inside me and send me on my way. As I got older, he came to me less and less, which I considered a blessing.
But with Michael...
Kissing him was more pleasurable than anything I’d ever experienced with Victor. Every cell in my body burned as I thrust my fingers in his thick hair, drawing him toward me as I licked his tongue, dying to taste every part of him.
He broke the kiss and crouched before sliding his arm under my knees. Lifting me, he grinned at my high-pitched squeal.
“Michael! You don’t have to carry me.”
His strong arms carried me to the bed before gently lowering me to stand in front of him. “I think I was supposed to carry you across the threshold, but that will have to do.”
My lips curved as I laughed. “We’re too old for those stupid traditions anyway.”
“Speak for yourself,” he teased, removing his jacket as his eyes simmered with lust and affection. “I’m a hottie according to Alexis.”
“Oh, god, you heard that,” I said, biting my lip. “She’s a bit much. I don’t know where she gets it from since her father and I are both quite serious.”
“She’s so much like you,” he said, tossing his jacket on the chair in the corner before returning to me and tracing my cheek in a slow caress.
“Michael, I’m not...” I lowered my gaze, wanting to prepare him to be let down. I had no idea how to please a man, especially not one as experienced as Michael. I’d only been with Victor, and our trysts had been brief at best.
“Bianca—”
“No, let me say this,” I said, straightening my spine. “First off, I’m not young like I used to be. I’ve had a child. I have stretch marks and scars—”
“We all have scars, stella,” he said, lifting his pinkie as he arched a brow. “I want to see every one of yours.”
“I don’t know how...” I swallowed thickly, wanting to die of embarrassment. “Victor wasn’t...affectionate. I don’t know how to please you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, gliding his arm behind my back and lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You please me more than you’ll ever know.”
My bottom lip trembled as indecision and desire warred within. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” I finally whispered.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to my cheek. They worked their way to my ear, and he nuzzled me there before whispering, “Impossible.”