Chapter 22
NICO
Glancing at my watch, I felt increasingly annoyed with each sweep of the second hand. She was late, ten minutes late. Mistakes happen when people don't follow the schedule. Pulling at the lapels of my jacket, I was ready to march up the stairs when I saw her, standing at the top.
She was a vision standing there in the burgundy dress chosen for her.
The colour was deep and rich like aged wine, with the fabric catching the light with every slight movement.
Emilia floated down the stairs, the light cape attached to her shoulders cascading behind her.
The rose pendant that had belonged to my mother was the perfect accessory, perched on her chest, with the diamonds glinting against her skin.
"I'm sorry I'm late, there was a problem with the zipper." She smiled up at me.
"You're forgiven." The lights caught the shimmering beads on the dress, and the plunging neckline offered a delicate glimpse of her breasts' curve.
That was a mistake, something I would need to pay more attention to when her shoppers picked clothing.
Every man in that ballroom would be staring.
"You look amazing." I reached for her coat and draped it over her shoulders.
The black cashmere settled perfectly over the gown.
Holding out my hand, she placed hers in mine, and we headed out to the car.
The venue was crawling with people, photographers lining the streets trying to get a glimpse of the Chicago elite.
Flash bulbs popped like fireworks, voices calling out names.
Our car crawled along until we pulled to a stop.
My door was opened, and I got out and reached back in for Emilia.
She shrugged off her coat as she stepped out of the car, looking up at me, smiling.
The cameras went wild, the flashes creating a strobe effect.
We both knew there would be eyes on us, and if there were any hint of unrest between us, it would be picked up on.
We walked up the red carpet, stopping occasionally to have a picture taken. The carpet was actual crimson velvet, flanked by white roses in massive arrangements. I clamped my hand around Emilia's waist and pulled her close. "I almost think you like this," I said through my forced smile.
"About as much as I like your hand on my waist."
"Come now, amore, you're not still mad at me."
"Still, never stopped taking your pick." She shrugged, and I looked down at her as she looked up at me, beaming, her eyes dancing with humour, and all I wanted to do was take her right now. Finally, we were through the doors and out of the cameras' view.
"We might be inside, but we're still in the zoo," I mumbled, and I looked at the frown crossing Emilia's face.
The foyer was opulent, all marble and gold, with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
"Still on display, still in the cage letting people watch our every move.
" I didn't miss the slight nod she gave me before wrapping her hand around my arm, smiling.
"Well, then we might as well give them a show." She bumped me with her hip, and I shook my head.
"Behave yourself, wife."
"Oh, don't worry, I won't."
"If you don't, I will make you pay when we get home."
"Relax, Nico, I'm not about to cause trouble, even though I could.
" She winked and pulled me along into the ballroom and found our table easily.
The ballroom was breathtaking, all white and gold with thousands of candles creating a warm glow.
Ice sculptures adorned the buffet tables, and champagne flowed from fountains.
I hated coming here, but the large donations I made to this hospital ensured that law enforcement was never called when my men needed more attention, so it was a necessary evil.
The evening wore on, and I'd lost my wife somewhere.
I was pulled into pointless conversations every time I turned around.
Someone wanted information about the downtown building my architecture firm designed, and someone else wanted to know whether the skyscraper on West Monroe would have space available for rent.
The constant chatter buzzed in my ears, and I grew increasingly alert that Emilia wasn't in the room.
Excusing myself from the interrogation, I went to the table and set my drink down. Crystal clinked against the white tablecloth.
Me: Where are you?
A buzzing sound came from the chair beside me. I felt around and found the clutch that matched her dress. "Fuck." I mumbled under my breath.
Me: Antonio, where's Emilia?
The text bubbles popped up almost immediately.
Antonio: I'm not sure, Nico. I’ll have the men look for her.
Everything was too calm; there were no threats here tonight. I'd had every employee and guest checked in, and unless there were some strange switch-a-roo, nobody here would pose a problem. A buzz in my hand made me look down at my phone.
Antonio: Watch the stairs.
Looking up, I watched my wife descend the stairs looking like a Christmas goddess.
Her dark hair elegantly piled on her head, a few artful curls framing her face, the gown was perfection, and a smile that would warm even the coldest of hearts.
Sighing, I shook my head. She was safe for now, and we were going to discuss her leaving her phone behind.
Getting up from my chair, I needed to be close to her, so I made my way to where she was standing.
When I finally reached her, she was talking to a man.
A man who wasn't me. He was dressed in an expensive tuxedo, his hair perfectly styled.
He didn't have a ring on, and he was paying a little too much attention to my wife, playing a little too coy.
Could he not see the giant rock on her finger?
I would buy her a new, bigger one. Did she just laugh at him?
Her smile looked sincere, and her eyes were soft, making it seem as if she was interested.
Walking up behind her, I wrapped my hand around her waist, leaned down, and kissed her neck before whispering, "you know you're mine right?" She moved closer to me and licked her lips.
"Nico, I'd like to introduce you to." I didn't let her finish because, honestly, I didn't care. His invitation would somehow get lost in the mail next year.
"Yeah, nice to meet you. I need my wife." Gently, I pulled her away from the man.
"Nico, that was incredibly rude." She whispered forcefully.
"No, what would have been rude is me having to kill him for flirting with you."
"He wasn't flirting. Oh." She frowned and looked over her shoulder. The man was already focusing on a new woman, a blonde in a silver dress. "Nico, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention."
"What had your mind occupied?"
"I was looking for you."
"Sure, you were amore," I said, guiding her through the crowd back to our table.
The orchestra was playing something classical, violins soaring above the conversation.
"I have to make a speech, and then I want to get you home.
There will be no more nameless men vying for your attention tonight.
The only name on your lips will be mine.
" Kissing her cheek, I left the table and went to stand behind the curtains.
I hated public speaking, not because I wasn't good at it, but because it was all so pointless. A room full of stupidly rich people being patted on the back for doing the bare minimum. I understood the hypocrisy of my thoughts as I was no different.
Applause rang out through the hall as I took my place at the podium.
Taking a deep breath, my eyes locked on Emilia.
Her slight smile, the dark eyes that sparkled when she was under me, and her attention solely on me.
She was radiant under the chandelier light, the burgundy of her dress making her look like royalty.
Exiting the stage, I shook hands with some of the organizers and headed to find Emilia. "Niccolò, your speech was fantastic." A woman's voice called out as I walked past. I stopped, turned, and looked at her. Lilly Morrison was dressed in a gold sequined gown that was two sizes too small.
"Thank you, Lilly." There wasn't any need to carry on this conversation, so I turned to go.
"Is it true you're married?" She threaded her arm through mine, pressed her breasts against me and looked up with doe eyes. Her perfume was overpowering and not a scent I wanted to remember.
"Yes, it's true," I said flatly, trying to make her get the hint I wasn't going to talk about it.
"I bet she's not nearly as good in bed as I was." Her words were breathy and annoying.
"She's better, actually." Arching my brow, I hoped that would be enough for her to release the death grip she had on me without making a scene.
"Oh, Nico, you're so funny. Nobody's better than me." She slapped my chest and let her hand linger. Her nails were long, red, and predatory.
"I assure you, I've had no complaints from him.
Now, if you would get your hands off my husband and take your attention elsewhere, I'd be very pleased.
" Smiling, I watched Emilia clear the few steps still between us.
She glanced down at my arm still nestled between Lilly's breasts.
"I've asked you nicely to remove yourself from my husband’s side once; I won't do it again.
If I have to ask again, I will have no problem putting a bullet between your eyes. You do know who I am, right?"
"You're a Carminatti." She said her words dripping with disdain.
"No, I'm Niccolò Venosa's wife. One word from me, and your life is over.
Get away from my husband, and if I see you at one of these events again, I will take you out myself.
" She spoke calmly and never let the smile leave her face, so as not to create a scene.
To anyone watching, we were just three people having a pleasant conversation. "I trust you've heard the rumors?"
I watched Lily closely, and while she didn't actually acknowledge what Emilia had said, her wide eyes and large pupils let me know she'd heard.
"If you don't want me to prove the rumors are true, you'll leave this gala, and never show your face at an event again.
Don't make me dirty any of my ballgowns.
" Emilia arched her brow all the while looking uninterested in the conversation.
She glanced at her nails and frowned before pretending to rub a mark off one.
If anyone had walked past, they would have just thought we were having a nice chat. As if she'd been burned, Lilly let go of my arm and backed away, stumbling slightly in her stilettos.
Reaching for Emilia's hand, I pulled her along behind me. "Nico, what are you doing?"
"Getting you out of this place. I want to tear that dress off your body and worship you until you can't breathe." The valet couldn't bring our car fast enough. My wife had just threatened to kill someone in a ballroom full of Chicago's elite without breaking a sweat, and I'd never wanted her more.