Chapter 11
NICO
Staying up most of the night talking to Lorenzo also meant we indulged in the liquor a little too much. The sun hurt my eyes, and I pulled the sheets back over my head, the brightness stabbing through my eyelids like knives.
Lorenzo had been my father's closest friend and right-hand.
After my father was killed, he'd taken care of my mother, and I could see how he looked at her.
The devotion in his eyes, the way he moved closer whenever she entered a room.
At first, it made me mad, but the more I realized he'd soothed my mom's heartache and made her smile again, I accepted their relationship.
A knock on my door startled me, and I groaned. "Come in." Slightly dreading who's coming through the door and what they want, I leave the sheet over my head like I'm five.
"Niccolò, get out of bed, it's your wedding day." My mother's voice managed to filter through the thin sheet, as if she were yelling in my ear. "Lorenzo is in no better shape this morning." She laughed and walked into my closet.
Flipping the blanket down, I sat up, careful not to uncover fully. "Mother, what are you doing in here?"
"Helping you get ready for your wedding." She walked out of the closet carrying one of the tuxedos. She held it up and frowned before shaking her head.
"You are aware I can pick my own clothes now." Her laughter flitted out of the closet, and I was transported back to when I was a child, when that sound filled this house every day. I missed her being close.
"I'm aware, but I suspect this will be your only wedding, so I am going to help you.
" She carried one of my Armani suits and laid it on the end of my bed, along with a shirt and tie.
The fabric was dark, almost black. "Okay, get out of bed, and get ready.
" She crossed her arms and waited for me to move.
"You're going to have to leave, Ma. I won't get out of this bed while you're standing there."
She frowned, and I watched her face as she realized what I was saying. Frowning slightly, she sighed. "Just like your father. Pajamas never killed anyone." She shook her head and moved toward the door.
"Ma, can you take something to Emilia?" I reached over to the table beside me and grabbed a pen and paper. Quickly writing down what I wanted her to know, I folded it and handed it to my mom. "It's confidential."
"Anything for you, my boy." She smiled and, opening it, she looked back at me. "Let me tie your tie?" I saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears.
"Of course." I nodded, and she walked out of my room. Flopping back down on my pillow, I sighed.
"Get out of bed." She yelled from the other side of my door. "Shower too, you're oozing whiskey."
Flipping the blanket off me, I walked to the shower. The cold water was a momentary distraction from my thoughts of Emilia. From what today means, what tonight would bring.
Grabbing the soap, I made quick work of getting ready for the day.
My hand brushed over my cock, and my thoughts were drawn back to my soon-to-be wife.
The feel of her lips on mine, our bodies pressed against one another, and her jealousy seemed to rear its head suddenly.
The way she'd staked her claim in front of Caterina was fierce and possessive.
My cock sprang to life, and I groaned. Wrapping my hand around it, I pictured Emilia's mouth, her lips spread, taking me into her warm mouth.
Those full, pouty lips wrapped around my shaft, her dark eyes looking up at me as she took me deeper.
Leaning against the wall, the water cascaded over my body, and I forgot all about the reason I was in the shower.
Moving my hand over my cock, I imagined her kneeling in front of me, her wet hair flowing over her shoulders, and her delicate hands hanging onto my thighs.
I could picture the way her nails would dig in, leaving marks.
The way she'd moan around me, the vibration driving me insane.
I stroked faster, my breathing growing ragged.
In my mind, she was eager, hungry for it.
Her tongue was swirling around the head before she took me all the way to the back of her throat.
The image of her gagging slightly, tears forming in those beautiful eyes, but never pulling away, made my cock throb in my hand.
My balls tightened, and I gripped my shaft tighter and pumped a few more times, my other hand braced against the tile.
I imagined finishing in her mouth, watching her swallow every drop, licking her lips afterward like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted.
The thought pushed me over the edge, and I groaned and shot hot cum all over the floor of the shower.
Rope after rope, my body shuddering with release.
Standing under the spray, I took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts before turning the water off.
The fantasy lingered, making me wonder what tonight would actually bring.
Would she be nervous? Defiant? Both? Grabbing the towel, I wrapped it around myself and walked out into my bedroom.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" I looked at Antonio, who was sitting in a chair by the fireplace with his feet on my coffee table.
"Your mom wanted to know what was taking so long. Would you like me to tell her you were thinking of your fiancé?" His smirk was annoying.
"Fuck off, ass hole." I grabbed the socks off my bed and threw them at him.
"One day this will be you, and I can't wait to sit there making fun of you.
" Picking up the suit mom had laid out for me; I tried not to think about the fact that I was about to get married.
About the fact that after today, everything would change.
"Nope, not me. Bachelor for life, I can't worry about a woman at home." He puffed on the cigar between his fingers. The smoke curled upward, gray and thick.
"Should we place bets on that?" I asked, turning to stare him down.
"Sure, a hundred thousand?" He blew smoke rings, and I watched them disappear into the air like ghosts.
"That's a level of confidence I haven't seen in a long time."
"Get ready to pay up." He stood and headed to the door. "I'll send your mommy in." I could hear his laughter in the hallway.
Leaving the quiet confines of my room, my tie draped around my neck, I went looking for my mother. I could hear commotion from the den, and I found my family having a party. "There he is, the most handsome groom on the planet."
"How much have you had to drink, Mom?" I asked as she grabbed my tie. A flash blinded me momentarily, and I stiffened.
"Relax, it's the photographer. I should have told you I hired one. Smile dear, you don't want to look like you're walking to your own funeral in your wedding pictures." She smiled up at me as another flash went off.
"True words, mother, and yes, it would have been beneficial. I was ready to reach for my gun." My words flat and mostly just to get a reaction out of her.
She slapped at my chest, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Honey, you aren't carrying on your wedding day."
"Mom, today of all days, you can bet your ass I am. I don't trust all these families in the same room for one second." Her quiet sigh was more than enough confirmation that she knew I was right. That she'd been thinking the same thing. "Let's get this over with."
I walked out of the room, followed by the rest of my immediate family. My mother took my arm, and Trixie took Lorenzo's, and we walked down the aisle. The women in my family had transformed the ballroom from a bland room to something that looked like a flower shop threw up.
Red rose petals lined the aisle, and bouquets sat or hung from every possible spot in the room.
The only light in the room was what looked like a million candles burning.
The flames flickered, casting dancing shadows that made the space feel almost ritualistic.
So not only was there a chance a war would break out between the families, but she was also trying to burn my house down.
Looking up, I caught the eye of Emilia's mother, and if she could have killed me with her glare, I'd truly be at my own funeral instead of a wedding. The hatred in her eyes was palpable, visceral. She would be just as much of a problem as her husband.
The music changed, and I looked up to the opposite end of the room.
She stepped through the doorway, and all thoughts disappeared from my mind.
Emilia was gliding toward me in a dress that shimmered like the stars in the sky.
If I thought last night's dress was a distraction, this was a million times better.
The bodice hugged her torso, and her perfect tits were on display in the strapless gown.
It seemed like years and seconds all at the same time until she was standing next to me. I let my eyes trail over her body, and all breath escapes me. "Who gives this woman to this man?" The officiant said, startling me out of the haze I was in.
"I do." Her father said without looking at me.
Now, let's talk about a person who looks like they were at their own funeral.
He was dressed in all black, and I was pretty sure the man didn't know how to smile.
I could hear him grinding his teeth. Vincent didn't kiss his daughter's cheek or even give her a second glance as he walked away from her.
That fucker, I should kill him right where he sits.
He's the one who forced her hand to take over his family, and then signed her life over to me; he didn't get to pretend he hated this idea.
"Take one another's hands, please." Emilia looked from the officiant to me, and Trixie reached out for the bouquet.
Hesitantly, she took my hands, and we looked at one another before she let her gaze fall to the floor.
Her hands were trembling. "We have gathered here today to join Niccolò and Emilia in matrimony.
Marriage isn't something to be entered into lightly; it's more than just a contract between two people.
" Emilia's eyebrow raised quickly before she lowered it, and I squeezed her hands.
"It takes two people committed to one another, two people to share in life's hardships and rely on their love to see them through.
" Murmurs went through the crowd, skeptical and knowing.
I turned and looked over the attendees, and they fell silent instantly. The silence was absolute, oppressive.
"Emilia, do you take Niccolò as your husband?"
"I do." I had expected her voice to be soft, but those two words were spoken with so much confidence, I wondered who she was trying to fool—herself or me.
"Niccolò, do you take Emilia to be your wife?"
Looking in her eyes, I spoke the same two words she had just said. They felt like a vow and a threat all at once.
"Emilia, repeat after me. I, Emilia Carminatti, promise to love, honor, cherish, obey, and vow my loyalty until death do us part." The man looked at her and waited.
"I, Emilia Carminatti, promise to love, honor, cherish, and vow my loyalty until death do us part." Her smirk and death stare were letting me know that obedience wasn't on the table.
"You forgot to obey." He whispered.
"Move along," I said quietly, and he looked at me with surprise all over his face. Fear, too.
"Niccolò, repeat after me. I, Niccolò Venosa, promise to love, honor, cherish, and obey until death do us part.
" Not one person was breathing in the room; I could feel it.
The tension was thick enough to choke on.
They were all wondering what I was going to say.
Wondering if I'd assert dominance or give ground.
"I, Niccolò Venosa, promise to love, honor, cherish, and obey until death do us part." Emilia's eyes were as round as frying pans, and her hands started to shake.
"Is there anyone in attendance who has a valid reason why these two should not seal the vows they have just spoken?
" People shifted in their seats, and my men stood straighter as they observed the room.
Hands moved closer to concealed weapons.
The moment stretched, dangerous. "I am pleased to pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Niccolò Venosa. Kiss your bride."
Emilia stood welded to the spot on the floor, so I took a step toward her.
Lowering down, I kept hold of her hands and pressed my mouth to hers.
Her lips were as soft as I'd remembered from last night, but something was different.
There was a hesitancy, and she wasn't returning my kiss like she had last night.
Letting her hand go, I roughly pulled her to me, and the jolt awoke her, and she kissed me as she meant it.
I felt her heart thundering against my chest, and the quiet sigh she let escape made me kiss her harder.
As she leaned into me, our guests stood and clapped. The mood changed, and everyone was ready for a party. Pulling away from me, Emilia looked up at me, and I smiled. "Hello, wife." Her nervous smile returned, and we walked up the aisle arm in arm.
Standing in the foyer, we greeted our guests and waited for them to filter through to the dining room for cocktails and appetizers. The procession felt endless, each handshake a potential threat. "You look beautiful," I whispered during a lull in the flow of people.
Her appreciative look made me wonder whether no one had mentioned it to her.
I watched her speak to people and couldn't get over the heavy makeup someone had used on her.
She didn't need it, and if I had anything to say about it, she wouldn't be wearing it again.
The mask obscured her, hid the woman I'd seen in that warehouse.
Being pulled in five different directions was growing tiresome. "I'm done. Emilia, please come with me." I was tired of having people around, and I needed my wife. I watched her grab the massive skirt, and I motioned for her to go upstairs.
"Nobody follows," I said to the security guard standing at the stairway. The command was absolute. He nodded, understanding that anyone who disobeyed would pay for it.