Chapter 24
Bianca Ferrucci
When we arrived at the restaurant, I felt every gaze turn toward me, as if each person there were judging even the way I breathed.
Instinctively, I lowered my eyes and glanced down at myself, searching for something out of place.
The dress, the shoes, my hair, everything seemed right, and yet I still felt out of place, an intruder in a world that wasn’t mine.
“Lift your head, Bianca.” Tiziano’s firm voice cut through the air with authority.
I raised my face, and my heart immediately sped up. I didn’t have the courage to look at him, but I could feel the weight of his gaze on me.
“You carry my name now,” he added, leaning slightly toward me. “And no one here would dare challenge the Don’s wife.”
His hand rested lightly at the small of my back, a subtle touch guiding me, showing everyone there that I was with him.
The restaurant was grand, filled with elegant details such as crystal chandeliers and tables dressed with impeccably arranged linens.
People whispered among themselves as we passed, and I could feel their stares burning into me.
Some women smiled stiffly, others examined me with contempt, while the men avoided looking directly at me, perhaps out of fear of Tiziano.
“Breathe.” His voice came close to my ear, low enough that only I could hear.
I swallowed hard, straightening my posture. I didn’t want to disappoint him.
We reached a table in the center of the dining room, where several men and their wives were already waiting for us.
“Don Tiziano, always punctual.” One of them stood to greet him, shaking his hand. “And this must be your wife. Bianca, correct?”
“Yes,” Tiziano confirmed, pulling out a chair for me. The gesture was polite, but nothing about him seemed gentle.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Constanzo. I couldn’t attend the wedding, but I was told it was magnificent.” The man smiled.
“Thank you,” I murmured, trying not to look away.
I sat down while Tiziano took the chair beside me, his body relaxed, but his attention was on everything and everyone. It was as if he could see beyond the obvious, as if he could hear the whispers before they were even spoken.
The conversation at the table began casually, but I knew nothing there was truly casual. They were moves disguised as courtesy. While some talked about investments, exports, and new trade routes, others made indirect comments about the marriage, casting furtive glances in my direction.
“With Don Constanzo in charge, the family remains strong,” one of the men commented, twisting the ring on his finger as though it were a nervous habit. “But I believe the investments in the southern port could be risky.”
Tiziano smiled, that smile capable of freezing the blood in anyone’s veins.
“Nothing attached to my name is risky.” His voice was calm. “It’s already handled.”
Meanwhile, my hands remained steady in my lap. I was learning to grow accustomed to the weight of being the wife of a man like him.
“Excuse me,” I said as I stood. “I’m going to the restroom.”
Tiziano’s eyes followed my movements, but he said nothing. He only watched.
I walked through the dining room with my heart racing, trying to ignore the feeling that his gaze was still on me. The restroom was at the back of the restaurant, and the hallway seemed longer than usual. When I finally stopped in front of the mirror, I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself.
“I need to learn how to deal with him,” I murmured to myself, feeling my cheeks burn.
“Talking to yourself, wife?”
The deep voice sounded behind me, making my heart leap. I turned so quickly I nearly tripped over the rug. Tiziano was standing there, leaning against the doorframe.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to sound firm.
He took a step forward.
“I came to get what belongs to me.” His answer was simple, but the provocative tone sent a shiver through my entire body.
“I only came to the restroom,” I tried to explain, my breathing uneven as he moved closer.
“I know.” He smiled. “But I couldn’t help myself. Watching you get up from that table in a dress that barely covers your curves only made my cock harder.”
My mouth opened, but no words came out. He was so close now that I could feel his warm breath against my skin.
“You’re blushing, Bianca,” he murmured. “What am I supposed to do with you?” His eyes locked on my lips, and before I could process it, he kissed me.
The kiss was possessive, like everything involving Tiziano. His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer, his hard cock brushing against my abdomen. My legs trembled.
“Tiziano…” I murmured against his lips when he finally stopped kissing me, while a crooked smile appeared on his face and his hands slowly traveled up my thighs, sliding the fabric of my dress upward, unhurried, without asking permission. His fingers reached the lace of my panties.
“What are you doing?” I asked, startled but unable to push him away.
“Removing something that’s no longer useful.” He pulled the delicate garment down firmly, sliding it along my legs until it fell into his fingers.
Tiziano lifted the panties in front of me, folded the fabric, and slipped them into the pocket of his jacket.
“You’re forbidden from wearing these for the rest of the night.”
“What?!” My voice came out in an almost horrified whisper, but he only smiled.
“I’ll be smelling your pussy while imagining it wet, dripping down your legs enough to stain that expensive dress.” His fingers slowly brushed the inside of my thigh, traveling upward until they stopped exactly where he knew he would make me gasp.
My breathing turned uneven, my knees weak. I pressed my fingers against the counter to keep myself upright, my face burning.
“This is… this is insane…” I murmured, unable to look at him.
“No. This is you being mine.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear, enough to make my entire body tremble.
“Now go back to the table like the good wife you are. And every time you cross those legs, you’re going to remember this finger pushing into your pussy like this,” he said, sliding two fingers inside me and stimulating my most sensitive spot.
He slowly stepped away, leaving me there completely breathless, my body hot and the space between my legs throbbing with arousal.