Chapter Four
Vittoria
The group of six brothers before me arrested my attention.
My attention snagged first on the largest of them, the one who’d stood directly beside my new husband at the altar.
He had huge, thick muscles that bristled, as did his energy.
The man didn’t seem to like me very much, but the feeling was mutual.
“This is Fausto.” Romeo introduced the man standing closest to me.
He was the least assuming of the group, physically.
Equally as tall as Romeo, muscled like the rest, but something about him was frightening.
He seemed dangerously perceptive, his eyes missed nothing as they moved over me in cold assessment.
He had a silent executioner vibe, some old-world danger about him that I found intimidating.
I nodded, respectfully but cautiously. I could tell he was someone you instinctively avoided provoking.
“This is Giovanni,” Romeo continued.
“Gio, to family and friends.” He didn’t specifically state if I was now in that group of family and friends.
I stuck out my hand to shake his and he swept it up to his lips, kissing the back of my hand.
"Sister," he said, pulling away. His lips curled for just a moment in amusement at Romeo's stiffening beside me.
“This is Antonio.” This brother lacked the dangerous charisma of the others, but there was something steady in the way he carried himself.
“Welcome, Sorella, to la famiglia.“ His steady voice made me feel safe.
“Don’t let him fool you, tesoro, Tony is a dangerous man.
” The brothers exchanged amused looks. “This is my consigliere, Massimo.” The man merely glowered at me and grunted what may have been a hello, but it was hard to tell.
Romeo didn’t seem to notice and carried on.
That one over there is the baby of the family, Vincenzo.
” He pointed at a sexy young man who looked more ready to ride the waves than serve food.
His ears must have been burning because he chose that moment to look up from the platter of something that smelled delicious in a large ornate chafer.
My stomach grumbled loudly, and all the men broke out in laughter.
Embarrassment flamed my cheeks and all I wanted to do was run and hide behind the closest floral arrangement.
Instead, I straightened my shoulders and glared at my new husband.
We watched as he finished ladling and passed the platter to a passing servant who was walking towards what I assumed was the kitchen.
I liked to consider myself a very observant woman.
You kind of have to be to survive in a world where nothing is expected of you but to shut up and look pretty.
I watched as the ‘baby’ sauntered over. He was more carefree than the others and less serious, yet there was a furrow to his brow like he was always trying to figure out a puzzle. He looked me up and down.
“No shoes? How very bougie of you, Vittoria,” he said with a smirk. I was surprised at his heavy Italian accent; it belied his looks so much, had I not known who he was I could have assumed he was an actor playing an Italian.
Beside me, I felt Romeo stiffen. He clearly didn’t like his brother’s comment.
“Didn’t you hear? Barefoot weddings are all the rage this season.” My response caused a laugh of delight and a shake of his head.
“My brother is going to have his hands full. Welcome to the family, Vittoria.” After kissing my hand, he sauntered over to a group of servers, stacking their trays with appetizers from the table, his demeanor becoming intense as he surveyed what finger foods they were taking out.
We watched as he switched out their trays, speaking in rapid Italian.
Once the trays were reloaded to his specifications, the group scrambled away to do his bidding.
“You’d never guess that hiding under that cool exterior was a perfectionist,” Gio said, then winked at me.
“I take it you’re not a perfectionist then?”
He shook his head. “Too much work. I like to live my life for me and not for anything else.” He smirked.
“Speaking of, there’s Marko. I’ll bring him over to meet you, Vittoria.
” He disappeared into the crowd and I saw him emerge by the entrance and embrace a tall handsome man, built like a football player with typical all-American good looks.
Had there been a message behind his cryptic statement? To get out of this place, I would need help. With the right persuasion, maybe Gio would be willing to be on Team Vittoria.
“Who is Marko?” I asked no one in particular.
“His best friend,” Antonio replied.
“Who invited Marko?” Romeo asked, frowning at the two of them.
“They’re inseparable, Rom, you know that,” Massimo replied gently. “If you want him gone, I’ll escort him out.”
Before my husband could answer, I stepped in. “Let him stay. Look at how happy they are.”
All eyes focused on the two men across the room, and I wondered if they were gay in secret.
That was something that still didn’t fly in our world, where daughters were not allowed an education, kept from the family business, and still sold to the highest bidder.
While the world changed and grew around us, the mafia had their own set of rules to adhere to and while it wasn’t spoken about, every boy and girl seemed to instinctually know that being different was a big no-no.
“I will grant my wife’s request. Let him stay, Massimo.” His words were as smooth as honey, but the look he gave me was dark. And not for the first time, I wondered what monster lurked beneath that cold exterior.
Isabella came out of nowhere and joined our little group, laying a gentle hand on Massimo’s arm. “Simo, can you get everyone’s attention please?”
“Of course, Mama.”
A loud whistle carried around the room, overpowering the guests, and the stringed quartet who had moved from the hall where our ceremony took place, closer to the banqueting tables to keep the guests entertained.
“Attenzione,“ he called out. Now I knew why she chose him. I don’t think I’d ever heard a louder or more commanding voice.
“You have the floor, Mama.”
She smiled and gently bowed her head gracefully at her sons. She was exquisite, their mother, and looked stunning in a fitted chiffon gown that brought out the amber-gold color of her irises.
“Lunch is ready. Please follow me.”
Romeo gripped my elbow and led me into a massive dining hall, to a low dais at a head table, set for two. The décor matched that of the ceremony room, and the fragrant flowers filled the dining hall with the most pleasant smells.
Hibiscus, orchids, and ivory calla lilies surrounded the head table in lavish arrangements, emitting scents that were almost painfully beautiful.
Romeo pulled out my chair and tucked me in.
As we took our seats it was to great applause around the room.
But I wasn’t fooled by his feigned gallantry.
He may act a gentleman, but there was nothing gentle about him, and it was important that I never forget that, regardless of how attracted to him I was.
I had caught a glance at the raw passion below his cool, calculating surface. Passion to fuck… passion to kill…passion to…
I suppose I’d expected him to be more like my father, a Don with no time to waste on things, or people, that didn’t provide him with power.
Although my husband was motivated by the same thing, I’m sure, as I stood testament to that fact, he also didn’t hide who he was, but his true nature altered depending on the situation.
So far, I’d witnessed the laid-back, laughing Mikey, the groom laughing with his brothers, the black-eyed Devil staring out at a room filled with dangerous men, the Master cracking his belt over my backside…
and the man who called me his good girl and wiped my tears away.
They were all the same man, and all true faces.
The entire day had felt surreal, from the moment my father entered my room this morning, to my wedding in the most magical setting in the most beautiful home I’d ever been inside.
“Do you prefer red or white, Mrs. Vitale?” I was pulled from my musings by a very handsome young man who bore familiar physical traits with the Vitales.
“White, for now,” I responded.
He smiled, reminding me a little of Vincenzo. He hustled away after pouring some in Romeo’s glass, not having to ask him what he preferred. “I assume that is a relation of yours?”
“It is a cousin on my mothers side, his name is Amergio.” I took a sip of the crisp white wine, humming appreciatively of the bright citrus and orchard fruit notes.
It was too bad I’d already chosen not to enjoy it.
I was a prisoner to a man I didn’t know and, so far, couldn’t manipulate.
That was both terrifying and exciting for me; as a woman who prided herself on always being in control, the idea of someone else taking control held an element of excitement.
At my core, I desired that big strong man my mama used to tell me about when I was a little girl, as I pranced around our home in princess dresses dreaming of my prince charming.
My secrets were safe, locked away with the only key buried so deep, I doubted even I could find it if I wanted to. When my mama died, so did my dreams of prince charming. A year later, at the tender age of fifteen, my father began introducing me to potentially marriageable men in our circle.
Servers trickled into the room carrying platters of antipasto and placing them on the tables. When ours arrived, in the hands of Amergio, I took a moment to appreciate the artisanal display of the food laid out in the shape of the Vitale family crest.
“Wow, very impressive.”
Amergio smiled, looking pleased. “May I serve you, Mrs. Vitale? I glanced at Romeo, wondering if he had a problem with this but he held a glimmer of humor watching the handsome but awkward young man work the delicate tongs between the thinly sliced meats. My eyes narrowed.