20. A Public Claim #3
The bathroom door opened, and two of Santino’s family walked in. His sister and sister-in-law. Allegra jumped to my side as we stood frozen to the spot.
“Hi,” the beautiful woman in her forties, with the most interesting eyes I’d ever seen, gave me a warm smile. They were green, with a halo of gold around the outer irises. “I’m Olivia. Giovanni’s wife. And this is Soraya, Sani’s sister.”
I stared at them, offering a small, unsure smile.
Soraya looked into my eyes for the briefest second, then stared down at her hands, chipping away at her nail polish.
I had no idea how to act around these women.
? They felt like enemies. People I couldn’t trust because they were directly related to the man who had just ruined my life.
But… they didn’t give off villainous vibes at all. They seemed almost… normal.
“We’ve been so excited to meet you. Sani hasn’t stopped talking about you,” Olivia said in a perfect British accent that reminded me of home.
She stepped up to the sink and opened her handbag to pull out her lipstick.
“Frankly, we’ve all grown a bit sick of hearing your name over the last few days. ”
I blinked at her, trying to work out how much she really knew about this situation. What the hell had Santino been telling his family? Did they all believe this was an actual marriage between two consenting adults who were madly in love? Surely they weren’t blind.
“What exactly has he told you about me?”
“Oh, just that you’re his perfect woman and that he knew from the moment he met you that you’d be his wife one day, so why prolong the inevitable, blah, blah, blah.
We expected to meet you at least once before the wedding, but this is a very Sani way of doing things, so none of us are that surprised. ”
“You mean kidnapping a woman from her wedding and threatening her loved ones to force her to marry him instead?” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
Olivia froze, her lipstick halfway across her lower lip, and stared at me in the mirror.
Soraya continued to chip away at her nails, refusing to acknowledge me.
Olivia continued applying her lipstick carefully, keeping us waiting for her response, then sighed as she replaced the lid.
She turned to me with a smile that told me she sympathised, but not enough to go against her brother-in-law.
“Can I give you a little advice, Arianna?”
“If it’s a secret passage out of here, then yes. Please.”
She smiled. “I can see why Sani is so smitten.”
I frowned but said nothing as she studied me with an unnerving look of fondness that shouldn’t have made me warm to her at once.
“I’ve known Sani since he was six. I was, believe it or not, his nanny and tutor.
Don't hold that against me; I tried my best," she chuckled. "We’re not so different, you and I. I’m from the UK and moved to Italy in my twenties, when I started working for the Buccinis. I had no idea who they were or what they did. But I fell in love with a man I never thought I’d want.
He was arrogant, ruthless and possessive, yet insanely protective, loyal and loving.
But I didn’t just fall in love with Giovanni.
I fell in love with his family, too, and with a life I never thought could fulfil me so much.
My advice to you is… don’t let fear rule your heart.
Sani will never hurt you. He’ll be lots of things: possessive, impulsive, wild, cocky, and he’ll definitely drive you crazy.
He can’t be tamed, so I wouldn’t bother trying.
I gave up years ago when I realised this is just who he is, and I love him for all his quirks.
Sani’s unique. You won’t meet anyone else like him.
Ever. But I promise you, he has a heart of gold when he lets you in.
And when he cares for you and loves you, he’ll do so with every ounce of his soul. So please give him a chance.”
“Are you saying he married Aria because he genuinely wants to be with her? No outside motives?” Ally asked, glancing between Olivia and me. “We thought he just wanted to use her to blackmail her father.”
“I know who your father is,” Olivia said softly, cocking her head. “And I know this is a complicated situation. All I will say is that it would have been easier for our family and yours if Sani had let you marry that other man today. But he didn’t. What does that tell you?”
I licked my lips, trying to process her words and hating how my stomach was flip-flopping at the thought that Sani could actually have genuine feelings for me and that this wasn’t some twisted, sick game to him. I couldn’t let myself think like that, because then what?
“Marrying a Buccini man is the best decision I've ever made. But I understand this is a lot for you, and it will take time for you to trust him. If you ever need anyone to talk to or any advice on how to handle Sani,” she chuckled, pulling out a piece of paper from her bag and handing it to me. It was a phone number. “I can’t promise a miracle, but give me a call.”
She smiled, picked up her handbag, and turned towards the door. Soraya lifted her gaze, looked at me as if she was about to say something, and then swiftly followed her sister-in-law out without a word.
“Olivia seems…” Ally started.
I sighed. “Lovely.”
“Not sure about the other one, though. She’s a bit weird.”
“I think she’s just quiet,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why I was even defending her. She had a calming presence, even when she never uttered a word.
We left the bathroom to enter carnage. In the lobby, local paparazzi were storming the hotel, and Santino’s men pulled Allegra and me behind them aggressively.
I fell against a wall, hitting my shoulder, and tried to shove the man’s vice-like grip off me.
But just as quickly, it was gone. I stared up in alarm as Santino shoved the man against the wall, his arm twisted behind his back at such an angle that he was seconds away from breaking it.
“Never touch my wife like that again,” he snarled into the man’s ear. His voice was so deep and feral that it sent a confusing spark of arousal between my legs. Santino released him, grabbed my hand, and yanked me out from behind his men, pulling me towards the flashing cameras and journalists.
“Signor Buccini, how long have you and the mayor’s daughter been keeping your relationship a secret?”
“Signor Buccini, who was at the wedding? Is the mayor here? Can we speak to him?”
“There are rumours that you and the mayor don’t get along. Is that why he’s not here?”
“Signora Buccini, who designed your wedding dress?”
Holy Mother of—. Where had they come from? And had someone just called me Signora Buccini? Holy shit.
Santino pulled me to his side, a tight smile on his face as he let them take a few pictures of us, then spoke confidently, with an edge of authority.
“That’s all for tonight. Grazie. Please respect our privacy and let us enjoy our wedding night.
My wife and I would like to get back to our wedding party. ”
He tugged me through the crowd and back into the reception room, and I just blinked like a fool, following his lead.
“How did they know?” I hissed as the doors shut firmly behind us.
He turned to me with an arrogant smirk that shouldn’t have been so panty-melting. “I called them.”
My mouth dropped open, my eyes bulging. “You called them?”
“Si,” he answered, pulling me into him by the hips. His eyes roamed over my face, taking in every detail as if I were a canvas on display.
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because I want the world to know you are mine.” He lifted his hand and let his fingertips glide across my cheekbones and along my jaw before teasing the seam of my lips. I stared up at him, caught in his trap. “You look so beautiful. My wife.”
My heart fumbled despite itself. I glanced away to find most of his family watching us, smiling as if this were a heart-warming moment for them to cherish. This whole thing was just… absurd.
“I’m only your wife on paper,” I said, pulling out of his embrace. His smile faltered. “I’ll never forgive you for what you did today.”
“I can live without your forgiveness,” he husked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I just need you by my side, with my last name as a warning.”
“A warning?”
“To anyone who thinks they can take, hurt, or threaten what’s mine.”