Chapter 9
EMILIA
"He's going to die when he sees you," Trixie said as she took a sip from her wine glass.
Glancing in the mirror, I couldn't help but slightly panic as I shifted.
The dress was body-hugging, plum purple, with flowy sleeves with a cuff for added detail, and a V-neck that didn't plunge, but it wasn't modest. The fabric shimmered slightly in the light, catching and reflecting like silk.
The ruched waist enhanced my shape, and just below my breasts, there were small cut-outs from my ribs around to my back, and the hem fell just below my knee.
The exposed skin felt daring, dangerous.
"Has he seen this?" Trixie asked, jumping off the bed, standing behind me.
"No," I whispered. “Letty and I had picked it before he got back into the store the other day, and it was tucked into the middle of the clothing pile on the checkout counter.
With all the commotion happening, he didn't pay too much attention to things I'd picked before he got in the shop.” The memory of gunfire and chaos made the dress feel like a small rebellion.
"Shit, he's going to lose his mind. Let's go." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the door.
"No, I need to change." Trixie stopped dragging me behind her and turned to look at me.
"Who are you?"
"Emilia Carminatti." My voice was almost non-existent.
"Who ran her god damned mafia family for two fucking years. Did you tremble and worry then?" I shook my head. "No, you didn't, and who will you be in roughly eighteen hours?" She stood straighter and arched her brow, her gold eyes blazing with intensity.
"Emilia Venosa."
"That's right, Emilia Venosa, wife of one of the most powerful men in the Italian mafia.
And the only wife who knows exactly what it's like to give the orders.
Get your ass down to that ballroom and show every person in that room why you deserve to be there.
" She turned on her heel and grabbed my hand in hers.
Damn, I needed to keep Trixie around more. Her pep talks are amazing.
She was right and for a brief moment, I'd forgotten who I was. I straightened my spine, squared my shoulders, and let the killer settle back into my bones.
I stood in front of the closed ballroom doors, and I nodded.
The sound of the music and conversation filtered through the wood, a low hum of anticipation.
Nico's men swung the doors open, and I stepped through them as the powerful woman I was.
All eyes turned to me, and the crowd parted, revealing my soon-to-be husband.
The room fell silent, conversations dying mid-sentence.
I watched his eyes scan my body and freeze on the exposed skin, that muscle in his jaw twitched, and his brows furrowed so slightly I doubted anyone other than me noticed.
His gaze was hungry, possessive, burning a path down my body.
Walking across the room, he held out his hand, and I slid mine into it.
The band started, and we swayed across the now-empty dance floor, all eyes on us.
"Where did that dress come from?" He growled quietly in my ear.
"Letty's." My eyes scan the room for the woman. I found her in the crowd, and she was grinning from ear to ear. She quickly brought her hand to her mouth and gave me a chef's kiss.
"I looked at every one of the outfits you were buying, and somehow this managed to end up in your bags. Did I pay for this?"
Leaning back from him slightly, I didn't hide the smile on my face.
"You didn't see every outfit because of whatever was more important outside, and yes, you did.
" His eyes flashed with anger and lust before they lowered to my cleavage.
He pulled me tighter to him, and there was no missing what this dress had done to him.
The hard length of him pressed against my hip.
"When this dance is over, you're going to have to stand in front of me for a moment or two." His breath across my neck sent a shiver through me. I wasn't scared of this man, but I was worried about my inexperience. About what would happen when he touched me and realized how little I knew.
The song ended, and applause filtered through the room.
Nico turned me and wrapped his hand around my side as we walked away from the guests who were now dancing.
His fingertips brushed the bare skin along my ribs, and my body hummed at his touch.
Heat pooled low in my belly, unfamiliar and intoxicating.
We were inundated with congratulations and well-wishes.
Nico kept me in front of him, and he rested his hand on my shoulder.
His thumb traced small circles on my collarbone, a gesture that looked casual but felt deliberate.
He didn't shy away from talking to anyone who approached us, and some of those conversations were business discussions, which he openly discussed with me present.
The staff brought out food, and everyone took their seats.
The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air, along with wine and expensive perfume.
"You look confused, Emi," he said, placing his arm on the back of my chair as he leaned in toward me.
Everyone watching us would think we were in love the way we were acting, which was exactly what they needed to believe.
Dropping my head slightly, I rested my elbow on the table and shielded my mouth with my hand. "You had conversations about your business in front of me."
"Oh, my sweet Emi. I'm doing it to let everyone in this room know I trust you. Nothing I'm talking about is sensitive."
"So, you don't trust me." I arched my brow.
His low chuckle and focused gaze, for the first time, gave me a glimpse into the man who was the don.
"I don't trust you at all. There's even a part of me that believes you'll shank me in my sleep tomorrow night, but the world has to think I do.
" He moved his arm and ran his fingers along the exposed skin on my back and ribs, and I ached for more.
The touch sent electricity through me, making it hard to breathe.
I was pulled away by one of Nico's aunts, and I tried to focus on what she was saying, but I caught a glimpse of a woman walking up to Nico. She was beautiful, tall, and willowy with dark hair and red lips. Thankfully, the conversation was over, and I found Trixie and Letty.
Pulling them aside, I drained the wine from my glass. The alcohol burned going down, but didn't touch the fire building in my chest. "Who's the bitch-tits all over my fiancé?" Both women turned and stared. They wouldn't be effective for surveillance, that's for sure.
"Caterina Russo. The ex." Trixie said flatly. "They broke up over a year ago, but she's had a very hard time letting go. I'm shocked she's here tonight, wasn't it invite only?"
"It was supposed to be. What do you mean she's not over it?" I wasn't even hiding the fact that I was staring at them. The woman had her hand on Nico's arm, leaning in close enough that her breasts pressed against him. Nico's eyes locked on mine, and he licked his lips, smirking.
"She thought he would propose, and she took him dumping her badly. She called him every day for a month, begging him to come back."
"She even bought a wedding dress, and booked the Holy Mary Cathedral, and the Waldorf," Letty said as she looked back at me. "What are you going to do? You've got a funny look."
"Stake my claim or start a war, I'll decide on my way over." Handing my glass to Trixie, I moved stealthily across the room. My heels clicked on the marble floor, each step deliberate and measured.
The woman moved closer to Nico, her breasts pressed up against his arm now, and I was laser-focused.
His smirk never left his face, and his eyes never left mine.
I watched Caterina realize his attention wasn't on her but on something else.
She looked over, and her sweet demeanor changed to that of a ruthless woman ready to fight for what she wanted.
He moved his arm, and I walked into it as he wrapped his hand around my waist. Before I gave it a second thought, I looked at his perfect, pouty lips and pressed mine to them.
The grip he had on me tightened, and my heart fluttered, my hands shook, and something stirred, leaving a heat between my legs.
The world fell away, the room, the people, everything but the sensation of his mouth on mine.
My head spun as I moved my hand to his chest. His heart raced beneath my palm, matching mine.
Gently, he pressed his tongue against my lips, and I opened my mouth to let him in.
Slowly, he ran his tongue against mine, and I was sure my heart was going to stop.
The taste of him, whiskey and mint, the heat of his mouth, and the way his hand tightened on my waist like he never wanted to let go.
Pulling away, I looked at him and saw something that scared me and made me ache for something I hadn't ever wanted.
Him.
The crowd cheered, and I turned to the woman. "Hi, I'm Emilia, Nico's fiancée, and you are?" I held my hand out, and every eye was on us.
"Caterina Russo." She mumbled as she shook my hand.
"I wish I could say it was a pleasure, but we'd both know I was lying.
" Taking a step closer to her, I gripped her hand more tightly.
"If you don't want a scene here, I suggest you fake an illness and leave.
And if I ever see you within fifty feet of my soon-to-be husband, I'll find a construction site to dump you in. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes." She whispered.
"You might as well burn that wedding dress and remove the open-ended bookings from the cathedral and the Waldorf. You aren't going to be needing them." I watched her chin quiver, and she left the room, practically running.
"Remind me never to make you mad," Nico whispered in my ear before spinning me to look at him. "Or were you jealous?" He asked, his eyes gazing down at my lips.