Chapter 15 Alessio
Alessio
This treacherous little Morelli bitch. I shouldn’t be surprised she’s pulled that knife on me. Again. I’m more pissed off that I let my guard down enough to allow it to happen. Again. You kill a fucker for the woman and this is the thanks you get.
Taking a deep breath, I study her glittering eyes in the darkness and, for once, think my words through carefully before I speak.
“You have a habit of greeting me with a knife in hand, wife. Have I treated you so cruelly thus far? Is this the thanks I get for saving your life yesterday? For not forcing myself on you last night when you fully expected me to?”
“No, I…”
Just like last night, her resolve wavers.
She’s not accustomed to taking lives, nor does she want to.
She’s a good girl, familiar with guilt. Very useful.
I could disarm her before she could end me, but I might hurt her in doing so.
Perhaps I should want to hurt her. She’s Nico’s sister, and she’s got a fucking knife to my throat. Yet, I don’t want to hurt her.
“Will you kill me like Nico killed my brother? Has that always been your plan?”
“No!”
“Where will you go once you do? You’re in my territory. Do you think my father or his men will simply let you walk away?”
“I don’t want to hurt… Where have you been?” she asks, her hand trembling so badly the knife presses dangerously against my throat.
Ah. Under the hissing cat, there’s a wounded girl.
The goddamn Seconda. Of all of our traditions, it’s the one Armando's father warned me to think twice about before my wedding. “Why antagonize the person who could so easily slip poison into your morning coffee right from the start, Sio?” he’d asked.
But we’re men and we’re well known for thinking with the brain between our legs rather than the one above our necks at times.
“You want to know where I was?” I ask, intent on keeping her talking.
“It’s nearly morning.”
“Not yet and I often keep late hours.”
“You were at the Seconda.”
“For a while. Then, I was taking care of business for my father. I am still his Enforcer, and there were men who owed us. Money or pain, the choice is theirs.”
“Since when does business smell like Chanel Number 5?” Fuck me, she’s cute when she’s jealous.
“Is that what it is? It stinks.”
Her eyes turn glassy, and her chin quivers. She’s far more hurt believing I cheated than I would’ve expected considering things. “You asshole. It does not stink.”
I inhale deeply, growing more confident she’s not going to kill me tonight.
Whether or not things stay that way is still a toss-up.
“There were plenty of whores around me tonight at the Seconda and at the place I went to find tonight’s unlucky debtor.
But, that doesn’t mean I slept with any of them.
Whores and the mafia go hand in hand, but not every man takes his pleasure where our business interests lie, kitten. ”
She wants to believe me but isn’t sure she can. Nevertheless, her body starts to soften while mine grows harder. I place my hands on her hips, tugging her down slightly. I smirk in the darkness at her breathy panting. “You’re trying to distract me.”
For certain. “You’re the one who’s distracting, Caterina.
” I reach for the bedside lamp like I haven’t a care in the world, flicking it on.
She shifts her hips with my movement, a soft sigh escaping.
“I’d rather smell like you,” I tell her.
“I like your fragrance far better, that intoxicating vanilla and clove scent.”
She melts a bit more, her body rubbing almost imperceptibly over my cock again.
I can feel her heat even through the pad she’s wearing for her period, and I know she can feel mine.
Her brother is my enemy, but my body is fully willing to ignore that fact when it comes to her.
My hands find her hips once more, and I start to move her slowly back and forth.
She doesn’t acknowledge what I’m doing, and she keeps the knife at my throat, but she doesn’t tell me to stop either.
“This pretty little nightgown you’re wearing, is it for me?” It covers her from neck to knees, but the white gossamer fabric shimmers under the lamplight, and I can see the silhouette of her nipples. Pebbled, dark pink buds, I’d love to suck on them and drive her out of her mind with desire.
“I don’t…”
“Did Armando see you in this? I’ll have to kill him if he did.”
She blushes. “No, I changed after I left him outside.”
“That was very wise of you, wife.”
She bites her bottom lip and shimmies her hips without my help this time, seeking more friction, warming up with my praise.
So trusting and needful. She’s probably foolish enough to entertain daydreams of romance in a marriage like ours.
What happy ending does she expect to find with a beast like me?
But an advantage is an advantage.
“I liked your taste earlier even more, Caterina, your sweet, musky arousal mixed with your blood. It turned me on.”
Her whole face glows red. “You shouldn’t talk that way.”
I thrust against her, enjoying her gasp and the way she hurries to mimic my movements. “I don’t mind the taste of blood. I’d spread your thighs and lick your pussy, blood or no blood. I’d love to eat you out tonight if I didn’t know you’d refuse me.”
“You would not,” she argues, a bemused grin tugging at her lips. The knife is no longer at my throat. Careless. So careless. “Alessio, do you promise that you didn’t-”
I cut off her words with a snarl, rolling us over and grabbing her wrists. Roughly, I pin her arms above her head and spread her legs until I can ground my erection against her heat, dominating her, reminding her who answers to who in this marriage.
She yelps in surprise but that spark in those dark brown eyes, that brilliant fucking spark that’s all hers, never wavers even if her blood lust has.
“That’s the last time you’ll ever threaten me with that fucking knife or I’ll show you my dark side, wife,” I growl in her ear.
“Those fairytale love stories you read, aren’t there villains and monsters in them? ”
She nods. “Yes, the knights fight them.”
“Guess which one you’re married to.”
“I already know.”
“Do the knights always win in your love stories? Or, do the monsters sometimes win?”
“Only in the dark ones.” She shivers. Strangely, I don’t think she’s all that frightened.
“Don’t force my hand, Caterina, or I’ll record what happens after and send it to Nico as a present.
Your screams can haunt his nights when his brats aren’t squalling for their dead mother.
Do you understand me?” I punctuate the question by punching the headboard beside her head, the wood banging loudly.
“I understand,” she pants, licking her lips. The gesture sends a fresh jolt of desire straight to my cock even if it shouldn’t. What the fuck is it with this woman? What witchcraft does she possess? “But, aren’t you showing me your dark side now?”
I lean in closer, pressing my body down hard on top of her far softer one to the point of crushing the breath from her as I thrust again. Slowly. Torturously. I’m not sure who I’m tormenting at this point. “Not even close, kitten.”
Her eyes roll back and she shudders. Definitely not from fear.
She’s actually turned on by my anger, and my cock is close to exploding with the knowledge.
I recall her tentative touches this morning, how I found her mixture of innocence and curiosity so goddamn seductive it nearly melted my brain and how much I wanted her.
I still want her now despite the fact I obviously cannot trust her.
The knife glitters on the mattress just a few inches away.
The sight brings back some semblance of reason.
“To hell with this,” I growl, angrily. I roll off her like she’s quicksand, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing my gun.
I won’t be led around by my cock and I won’t forget the burning need to avenge my brother.
Even if I don’t want to hurt Caterina, I ultimately will when I kill her brother.
“Where are you going?” she squeaks, sitting up with the blanket clutched to her chest. So fucking lovely with her long black hair cascading all around her slim shoulders in that girlish white nightgown.
Even now, I want to kiss her and tear that virginal gown away from her body, sink inside her innocence and claim her as mine forever.
“Away from you until the desire to smash your teeth in for that fucking stunt you just pulled passes.”
At least that got the proper reaction. She curls up in a ball, her eyes wide with guilt and fright. “I’m sorry, Alessio. I thought you cheated, and I kind of lost my mind but-”
“I never said I didn’t cheat tonight, did I?” I rasp, coldly.
My words sink in, and I watch that stupid, girlish hope she clings to crumble. ‘She’ll be fun to break.’ She would be so easy to break. Those expressive eyes, I could witness that spark in them die forever if I wanted. It wouldn’t take me long at all. It’s what my father wants.
But, something inside of me doesn’t want to see that. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
“I didn’t say I did cheat either.”
Her brows draw together in confusion, and I wonder why I said it. But that little spark still dances in her eyes, and I know that’s why.
I stride out of the room, leaving her with no clear answers about my night and trying to decide where the hell I’ll sleep.
***
“What the fuck?” Armando asks when he opens the door to the room that’s semi-permanently his whenever we’re working late together.
“I need to use your shower… and the sofa in here.”
He squints at the time and then meaningfully at me, but I don’t have the patience for his questions. I head to the shower, washing away the offensive perfume that ruined my plans for the early morning hours.
When I return to the bedroom, he’s sitting on top of his bed, staring at me. “What’s going on?”
“We’re not having a slumber party, Armando. Go the fuck to sleep.”
“Did your dad find out about Lorenzo already?”
“Fuck Lorenzo. He was cutting our heroin with his garbage to turn his own profit on the side.”
“He also insulted your wife tonight.”
“Yes, he did. A poor decision on top of stealing from us,” I say darkly before punching the pillow on the sofa.
“So, what’s the story?”
“Let me sleep.”
But, my friend is too clever and too curious to let it drop that easily now. “You’re in trouble with wifey, aren’t you? Married less than forty-eight hours and already banished to Sofa City.”
“I swear I will kill you if you don’t shut up, Armando.”
“You and your swearing, I’m still breathing.” This fucker, he’s right. “I would’ve shared the blonde with you earlier.”
“Did I ever suggest I wanted to share the goddamn blonde with you? You know I won’t touch any of them. What would your dear old dad say about you fucking whores when he wants you to settle down and be a proper husband, I wonder?”
“Don’t turn this around on me. Pop knows I’m not marrying yet. But, if you were going to get kicked out of your own bedroom, you may as well have done something to deserve it.”
“I need a heavy object to throw at your head before I just start shooting.”
“Speaking of blondes, Sofia was out of bed very late. I caught her creeping back to the nursery on my way here not too long ago.”
That gets my attention. “Tell me more.”
Five minutes later, I’m knocking on her bedroom door. Sofia opens it with red-rimmed eyes and swollen lips. She’s been crying and she’s been kissed. There’s a half-eaten pint of ice cream in her hands, too. I push my way past her.
“You shouldn’t be out of your room so late with so many men loitering around the grounds tonight. Who am I killing? Or, did you jump the gun on your wedding night with Carlo?”
Her chin quivers like Caterina’s did earlier when she suspected me of cheating. “I will never sleep with him. I hope he dies. I need you to convince Dad to call off the wedding.”
Jesus, this girl is always so dramatic. She’s a lot like her mother, beautiful and vain. But, while if Bibi was on fire I wouldn’t even bother pissing on her, Sofia has a sweetness to her beneath the vanity that Bibi lacks.
“Explain that. Now.”
“I went to get ice cream earlier and… I saw him down by the pool.”
“The pool is far from the kitchen.” She rolls her eyes, and I decide not to point out the layout of our mansion any further. “Let me guess… you saw him with a woman.” His player reputation is well-known even if Sofia’s been wearing a blindfold by choice.
“With two of them!” she wails, clearly disgusted. “They were… he was… He’s a pig! I can’t marry him!” She bursts into tears at that point, and my very limited patience has already reached its limit for tonight after my wife held me at knifepoint.
But, I manage to hand her a tissue and give her a pat on the head before making a suggestion. “Go share your ice cream with my wife and let me sleep here.”
She gives me a questioning look. “Have you already fought with Caterina? Oh, Alessio…”
“Don’t even think of lecturing me, Sofia. Go share your ice cream with my wife before I ask who the fuck you’ve been kissing.”
She pales. “I never-”
“Don’t fucking lie to me. It’s obvious someone devoured your mouth if nothing else a short while ago and it sounds like it wasn’t Carlo. Tell me who it was or go to Caterina. Now.”
She hurries out of the room with her half-eaten pint, leaving me alone in her pink princess haven. “Fuck’s sake,” I grumble, collapsing on the bed.
I should probably find out who kissed Sofia.
That man will be very, very sorry for daring to touch her once I do.
The wedding with Carlo will go on either way.
Bibi has spoiled her, but Sofia must learn to deal with the hand she’s been dealt like Gia had to.
That’s the way it is with us. Divorce is not an option.
Only death ends a marriage, or a marriage pact, in the Trio.
It would be better if I could bring some harmony to my own marriage if I don’t want to crash in other people’s bedrooms every night. I just have to figure out how to keep my wife from trying to kill me.