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Dealer and his Bestowed Bride (The Rossi Family Mafia Book 2)

Page 4

by Avery Hawkes


  I looked up toward the front of the church. Standing there was Luca, my future husband. He wore a smart suit, black and formal. His brothers acted as his groomsmen and his sisters were my bridesmaids. His family all seemed nice enough, but for all I knew they could all be the worst criminals the underworld had ever seen.

  Armento’s mouth was next to my ear so I could feel his breath on my neck.

  “Don’t. Freak. Out.” he ordered in a whisper once we arrived at the point where he was supposed to give me away. He smiled and turned to embrace me as though he was my father.

  “No promises,” I replied through gritted teeth. At that point, I’d say whatever I thought would annoy him.

  When we stepped back from the embrace, Luca walked up to Armento and shook his hand, then looked at me.

  I wish I didn’t have to play the happy bride, but I did anyway. My smile was fake and both of us knew it, but I walked with him up to the center of the stage, where the priest stood.

  I had never been to a Catholic wedding and didn't realize how boring the process was. It seemed so formulaic for me, I wanted something more personal. But to be honest, this wedding was the least personal affair I could think of.

  We didn’t love each other, nor did we want to spend our lives together. We were two pawns that followed what the Mafia wanted. For some reason, they took pleasure arranging marriages and screwing with other people’s love lives.

  I stole a few glances around the room as the priest droned on. All of Luca’s family were teary eyed. Did they not know that this wasn’t permanent? I thought that his family was clearly tied to the Mafia.

  “You may now kiss the bride.” the priest said. It caught me off guard. I was starting to panic, not knowing what I should do. Luca came close to me, his hands touching my shoulders to bring me close. It had been years since a man had kissed me, and I wasn't sure I was ready again, but it was happening and there was nothing I could do about it.

  Luca was attractive, I couldn’t deny that. He was fit and tan and I could tell he was clever, everything I wanted in a man. But this was happening in the wrong way. He was a drug dealer, another Mafia criminal who would treat me like a piece of meat.

  He leaned in to me until I could feel his breath mingle with mine. My heart fluttered and I felt like I was betraying myself. There I was, committing my body and soul to a stranger when I had no love for him. How could I kiss this man?

  He paused for a second, perhaps having the same thoughts I did. We had barely spoken all week, no time to get to know each other before we were married off like it was medieval times.

  I looked into his eyes and they seemed to say, fuck it. He closed the gap and kissed me. He tasted like spices and musk. He was warm and it drove me crazy that I enjoyed myself as we kissed for the first time at the altar.

  I didn’t kiss him back, mostly out of stubbornness. No part of myself wanted to be married, but every part of me had enjoyed that kiss.

  I blushed deeply at the shame it caused me as everyone in the pews cheered. When we parted, I realized Luca was grinning ear-to-ear. Whatever had happened during the kiss, he had felt the spark too.

  I kept myself from glaring back at him, trying to play the blushing bride. We turned toward the group of people in the church seats, who hooted and hollered.

  Luca offered me his hand, which I snatched from him, not making any eye contact. All I could do was look ahead and not think about what we had just done. If I lingered on it at all, I wanted to fall into a ball and cry. In less than 30 minutes, I had lost my independence and was attached by law to a stranger.

  We ran down the aisle, smiling faces were on everyone we passed. Armento nodded toward me, but I ignored him too. At that moment, I was living second-to-second. The doors were opened for us and we stepped out into the cool fall air.

  Before us was a lovely car covered in scribbles that said “Just Married!”. Behind the car, a bunch of cans were tied to the back bumper. The entire group followed us out, throwing rice at us. I wanted to yell and throw the rice back in their faces, but I smiled for them and let Luca drag me into the car. As Luca closed the car door behind me, I felt as though I was being trapped in a prison that I had made for myself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Luca

  The reception was going quite well ... for an arranged marriage that is. My family had been good sports about it, probably under threat of retribution from my father. I watched the man as he walked from table-to-table, greeting extending family members.

  “Yes, yes,” I had heard him say. “Quite unexpected. They knew each other in school for a long time. We didn’t know how serious it was until recently.”

  I snorted. He was such a bad liar. It would be more believable if he went around telling people I had knocked up a stranger and was doing the honorable thing. Multiple aunts and cousins had already passed our table asking when the baby was coming. It seemed to be the rumor of choice.

  The hotel that the reception was held in was more than grand. Golden chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling, sparkling lights across the walls. The space was large enough to hold the Italian family reunion that our wedding had turned into. My mother had chosen red and gold as the colors, to match the fall season. Music played in the background as people ate their meals and mingled.

  “More wine, sir?” A server bent at the waist, holding up a bottle of red wine. I opened my mouth to decline, but was cut off by a voice next to me.

  “Yes.” Piper said, breaking the pact of silence she had seemed to adhere to all weekend. When the man brought the bottle closer to fill her glass, the woman took it from his hands and then took a swig straight out of the bottle.

  Both the waiter and I looked at her in horror, but the poor waiter quickly regained his composure and turned to me as Piper helped herself to the entire bottle like she was in a Gatorade commercial.

  “My apologies, it seems I am out of wine. Do you have a preference for wine?”

  “On the other hand,” I replied, “If you’re serving whiskey I’ll have one ... neat if you please.”

  He bobbed his head and stepped away, leaving me to watch my lovely wife nurse an entire bottle of red wine.

  “You have something,” I told her, motioning to my chin. It was a bit of an understatement, since red wine was dripping from her mouth from her last swig. She rolled her eyes at me and wiped her face with her hand, like she was some smarmy old man after a swig of beer.

  “Fuck you,” she slurred, then took another swig of wine.

  “This marriage seems to be starting off on the right foot,” I muttered. At least the pregnancy rumors would be stomped out as people started to stare at Piper’s blatantly bad behavior.

  “Oh don’t mind her,” I told a distant cousin as they ogled Piper in passing. “She’s half Irish. Strange customs, those Irishmen have.”

  She gave me a disapproving look, but pretended she didn’t see anything. Good woman.

  “Whiskey, neat.” The server said as he offered me my drink. I nodded to him before my wife thrust an empty wine bottle into his open hands.

  “What’s your most expensive wine?” she asked.

  “Well, we have the Chateau Petrus, 2000,” he said nervously.

  “I’ll have it.” She turned toward me. “This party’s on your Daddy’s dime, right?”

  I sipped on my whiskey and raised my eyebrows, not wanting to add to the train wreck going on in front of me. However, I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get hammered on a thousand-dollar bottle of wine.

  “You sure you can drink two bottles of wine?”

  “Ha,” she shook her head and glanced at the waiter. “Bring it to me.”

  I tipped my glass back and finished the drink. Hopefully, I could steal away the wine bottle before she drank the entire thing herself.

  “I’m not going to clean up after your throw up in our hotel room.”

  She blinked at me.

  “What?”

  “Y
ou know, the suite we have for our wedding night.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she replied.

  “Nope,” I shrugged my shoulders. “We’re husband and wife, I expect we’ll be doing all the things that married couples do.”

  She interrupted me, giggles bubbling up from her chest, which turned into a hearty laugh. It became so loud that the wedding party, my brothers and sisters, began looking at the both of us with worry.

  And here I was thinking I was going to get laid.

  Though she was loud and rude, the way she looked in her wedding dress made me want to take her right there in front of my grandmother and distant relatives.

  She was fit and nice to look at. While her breasts weren’t DD’s, they would make a decent handful. I glanced down to eye her cleavage with yearning since she wasn’t paying attention. At that point, I was afraid she’d slap me if she noticed my gaze. Oh well, I liked my women feisty, it was a bit more ... interesting.

  She was sexy and mysterious with a side of deadly and she was now my wedded wife. While I didn’t think it would last as long as my father anticipated, I hoped our marriage would last long enough for me to fuck her.

  When the server returned with the wine and Piper grabbed for the bottle once more, I took the bottle away before she could grab anything. She glared at me and I met her gaze, my eyes steady and hers like fire. Unlike the server, she didn’t try to jump me for the horribly expensive bottle, but watched as I uncorked the wine and then poured it into her glass first, then mine. I smirked and raised the glass to her.

  “To our marriage,” I said.

  “To our future divorce,” she replied.

  Piper proceeded to guzzle down the glass of red wine. I sipped the hundreds of dollars’ worth of booze in my glass. Ignoring my blushing bride as she spilled red splotches all over her dress. I noted oak, wheatgrass and maybe the hint of ash in my mouth.

  The traditions went by like a blur. Both of us were just as smashed as the cake we forced into each other’s faces. Lovely words were said about our non-relationship by my brothers and sisters.

  Then it came time for the fun part.

  “I’m not-” Piper hiccuped as we wobbled into the middle of the room.

  “You are,” I sat her down in the chair. The crowd was gathering around us and all of the bachelors were waiting behind me.

  Time for the garter toss.

  It took me a few seconds to gather my courage, afraid I’d get a broken nose if I adventured under the white satin of her dress.

  “Come on Luca! It’s not like you haven’t seen a pair of woman’s legs before!”

  There was a laugh that spread throughout the crowd. I glared at my older brother, Matteo. He was always acting like a dick, but it wasn’t like he was getting a promotion.

  Adventuring into Piper’s dress was probably the highlight of my night. Her legs were silky smooth and I could see up to her underwear, lacy and white. It barely covered her pussy. My lips stopped at her garter long enough for them to brush her skin. Before she could kick me, I bit down on the silk, giving her a small nip in the process.

  The garter slid down her beautiful long leg and then I grabbed it with my hand to pull the band from her ankle. When I exited her gown, the entire party cheered.

  My brothers and some cousins had gathered in a group in front of me. I stood up, looking down at my bride, who had her arms crossed against her chest and wasn’t in the mood to pretend anymore. I laughed nervously, which made the rest of my family laugh.

  “Looks like I’m going to be in he doghouse tonight.” They all chuckled nervously, even if Piper was giving them glares that could kill.

  I straightened myself, turning my back to the crowd of single men. The garter belt went flying behind me and I turned to see who was the winner.

  After what looked like a violent scuffle, Matteo’s fist finally rose up in the crowd. He was the winner? I doubted that he would be getting a wife anytime soon, whether he was forced to or not. I don’t think my Father trusted Matteo to not rough up whomever he dated.

  My other family members grumbled and left for the tables to lick their wounds as Matteo basked in his victory.

  The party went on for quite a while and finally it was time for us to get up and have the first dance. The DJ announced us and I turned to my new wife.

  She looked like she was going to be in tears, her eyes watering. Oh great, she was an emotional drunk.

  "Come on, dear," I told her. "Let's go show them what we’ve got."

  When she turned to look into my eyes, the angry and belligerent woman was gone. She had given way to a scared mouse of a girl.

  "Please, I c-can't-" She was starting to slur her words from the wine, but the bitch of a woman was replaced with a little girl who had her special day stolen from her.

  My stomach sank, did I actually feel sorry for her?

  "Hey," I said, grabbing her hand. "One dance, then we can get out of here. These people are all pieces of shit anyway."

  The tip of her mouth curved up in a smile, but it was soon lost. Her eyes were watering and her dress was stained with wine, but she let me lead her to the dance floor anyway.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Rossi everybody!" The DJ announced. The lights changed as we got to the middle of the dance floor, the spotlight glaring.

  Piper was barely standing. I was actually impressed she could teeter on such tall heels while being drunk as all hell. My hands wrapped around her waist, touching her curves. I could feel her body heat underneath all the satin. She wrapped her arms around my neck, practically hanging on to me for dear life.

  The DJ started to play The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra. I couldn't help but look down at the woman that had been chosen for me.

  Her first impression wasn't as grand as it could be, no, but there was something underneath those rough edges. That something seemed to come out with a great deal of alcohol. Perhaps I'd be able to crack her, find that person beneath the tough facade without the help of wine.

  "You look beautiful." I said, so only she could hear. Finally, a woman who caught my interest more than the hundreds of tramps that filed through the club.

  She didn't tell me to fuck off, or answer me for that matter. She just looked defeated, sad, and distraught. I wanted to do something to help her, but I doubted anything would help on the dance floor.

  As we swayed to the music I tried my hardest to bite my tongue. There was so much I wanted to say, but that could wait for the honeymoon. What I had to do quickly was to get my bride out of the reception before she threw up on a family friend or found herself passed out in the cake.

  Finally, the song ended. Piper blinked and then finally looked at me for the first time since the song started, gripping my shoulders.

  "Why's the room spinning?" she groaned.

  She clutched at me, almost falling over but I caught her. Luckily, the DJ changed the music to something more upbeat and invited people out onto the floor to dance. Strobe lights started to flash everywhere and suddenly the reception turned into one of our clubs. Simone must have given my mother a list of the vendors we used for our business.

  As I thought of my twin I spotted him across the way, watching people dance with a dark look on his face. Having to interact with family was not his strong suit.

  I grabbed Piper and let her lean against me.

  "Let's get out of here," I told her, slowly bringing her off of the dance floor and toward my brother. When he caught sight of us, he raised his eyebrows.

  "Yeah, yeah," I told him, waving him off. His judgment was so apparent that he didn't have to say anything. "You try having an arranged marriage and see how sloppy drunk you get." I cleared my throat and bumped Piper with my hip before she drifted off to sleep while standing.

  "Wha?" She jolted awake only to stumble a bit into me. I winced and Simone hid a chuckle.

  "Cover for me, I can't take a minute more of this."

  "What about the send off?" he asked.

>   "Just … FUCK. Say we were so excited to be married that we couldn't keep our dirty little paws off each other. That'll make all these old perverts happy."

  My brother shook his head and stood, coming over to stand before me. He smiled and placed his hand firmly on my shoulder.

  "I'll take care of it," he said. "That and your business. I'll make sure nothing goes wrong while you're gone."

  "Just don't let those Russians near the warehouse," I joked. He grinned back at me.

  "Congratulations, to the both of you. I mean it." he said.

  "I don't know whether to thank you or tell you to fuck off," I replied. "I’m leaning towards the later."

  Simone rolled his eyes and turned his body to motion me toward the exit. Piper was having issues with her tall heels and was starting to find it difficult to keep a grip on me, so it was our time to depart. I nodded to my brother and then we made our way out of our false wedding, with no one the wiser.

  I slid the card in our hotel suite door and the light blinked red. "Damn it," I swore as I tried to swipe it again. Piper was leaning against the wall, her hands gripping her dress.

  "All I want to do is sleeeeeep!" she whined as I struggled to open the door. I had underestimated the amount of booze I had consumed during the party while trying to make sure my blushing bride didn't black out. It was to the point where I was like a pirate who hadn't gotten his sea legs.

  "Shhhh! I'm trying to open this door...." I said, finally turning the keycard the correct way, the light blinking green.

  We both stumbled into the hotel room and I flipped on the lights. It was an amazing suite. It overlooked New York City and was enormous. There was a bottle of champagne that was chilling in ice and rose petals that lead to the plush bed.

  "We'll pass on the champagne," I muttered, holding Piper's hand as I led her to the bed. She flopped down on it face-first and groaned.

  I shook my head at the woman. She had gone more than overboard on our wedding, but I didn't blame her. It was a lot for a woman to go through, being married to some sleazy drug lord. I knelt down to her feet and helped take off her shoes as she muttered and groaned on the bed. They were taller than I thought. Why wear such impossible heels when you couldn't even see them underneath the dress?

 

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