Filthy Marcellos: Antony

by Bethany-Kris

  “She’ll make a good little mob wife. She’ll turn her cheek like her mamma does and pretend like she doesn’t know what you’re doing with other women. Yeah, marry her. I’ve wanted some bambinos to spoil.”

  Jesus Christ.

  “I’m faithful to Cecelia,” Antony said, wanting the man to know.

  Vinnie nodded. “Sure you are. Just like I am to my wife, kid.”

  The anxiety Antony felt earlier trickled out of his system, leaving disgust and anger behind. He barely held himself back from telling Vinnie that Cecelia was worth more than being just any man’s wife. That she was meant to be Antony’s wife for a reason.

  Antony understood why his girl despised this man.

  It just sucked that he was also Antony’s Don.

  Rules.

  His whole goddamn life was surrounded by them.

  • • •

  “Oh my God,” Cecelia whispered holding her hand out again and letting the sunrays catch the diamond on her hand again. “It’s beautiful.”

  Antony grinned, happy she was pleased with his pick for an engagement ring. Between them, Cecelia was the one with all the elegance. Antony was a black suit, black shoe kind of man. Cecelia was the colorful, stylish one. She was even majoring in design.

  Somehow, he picked the right goddamn ring.

  Antony suspected because it came from him, that’s why she liked it the most.

  Didn’t matter. He’d take it.

  “That’s a yes, then?” Antony whispered in her ear from behind.

  “That’s a huge yes,” Cecelia said, sighing as he kissed her neck.

  “Turn around, bella donna, so I can kiss you properly.”

  She did as he demanded, spinning in his arms before crushing her mouth to his. Antony reveled in the heat of her mouth and the silkiness of her lips moving against his. He adored the way this woman kissed him. It was like with a single press of her mouth and the tangle of their tongues, she owned him.

  Yeah, he was so fucking in love with Cecelia Catrolli it was ridiculous.

  “That’s a yes,” Cecelia repeated as she pulled away.

  Antony held her chin between his forefinger and thumb, keeping her gaze on only him. “I was given no time restraint on when, Tesoro.”

  “Oh?”

  “Nope.”

  Cecelia’s demure smile widened, flashing her white teeth. There was always something wickedly sinful in her smile and he didn’t even think she realized it. It was one of the things Antony liked most about his girl.

  Cecelia was sexy without trying. She wore dresses and heels, carried herself with a classy air, and always left him wanting more but never in a bad way. Honestly, they’d not been able to do much in the physical sense because she was always being chaperoned by her father’s choice of guards. Even stranger was the fact Antony didn’t mind. He’d been with women, but he didn’t mind waiting for Cecelia.

  No, he didn’t mind at all.

  “How about October for a wedding?” Cecelia asked.

  Antony considered it. “That’s only three months away, Tesoro.”

  “So, we can double up on classes and have it on time.”

  “There’s a lot of planning that—” Antony’s words cut off as he barked a laugh. “Planning, right. You’ll have that handled, I know.”

  “And my father will pay for it all.”

  “No,” Antony said swiftly, wanting to shut that idea down. “I will.”

  Cecelia glanced up at him, her brow furrowing. “But, fathers usually pay for their daughters to be married, Antony.”

  “I’m not letting Vinnie pay me for you, Cecelia. If I let him pay for everything, that’s exactly how it would feel to me. I’ll pay for our goddamn wedding.”

  She settled into his embrace. “Okay.”

  Antony kissed the top of his girl’s head, holding her tighter. He couldn’t help but notice the running car in the empty lot of the park. Cecelia always loved this place and whenever they went for a walk, this was the first destination in her mind. She enjoyed the peace and quiet, and there was a small pond where ducks swam.

  That car, however, always followed behind them.

  “I’ll be glad when I can kiss you without a babysitter,” Antony muttered.

  Cecelia laughed. “Oh, I don’t know how much kissing we’ll be doing.”

  He didn’t need to be a genius to figure out her hidden meaning. His body turned hot as blood flooded his lower region.

  Christ. Yeah, three months sounded perfect. Antony didn’t think he could wait any longer than that to have this woman as his wife.

  “I’ll be kissing you through that, too, Cecelia.”

  “You better.”

  Antony smirked. “Always.”

  • • •

  “Cecelia!”

  Antony flinched inwardly at the high pitch screech of Kate Catrolli. Instinctively, he moved Cecelia slightly behind his frame as if to protect her from her sister’s wrath.

  The more time Antony spend near Kate, the worse he felt for Johnathan.

  Cecelia’s fingers locked around Antony’s wrist as Kate stormed into the Catrolli family kitchen. The girl’s face was red and she huffed her anger out like a pissed off bull looking for someone to charge.

  No way in hell would she go for Cecelia.

  Antony wouldn’t stand for that shit.

  What was her problem, anyway?

  Sometimes, with Kate, it could be practically anything.

  “Yes?” Cecelia asked, letting Antony go and resuming her task of mixing dough for bread.

  His girl could cook. He kind of loved that about her. She was a little maniacal about it and Antony had quickly learned to let her have her space or face the consequences. Those usually came in the form of sharp words or a wooden spoon smacking down on his knuckles.

  Nonetheless, Cecelia had skills.

  “It’s supposed to be me, Cecelia!” Kate shouted.

  Antony’s brow furrowed as he glanced back at his fiancée of only a couple of hours.

  “What is she going on about?” he asked Cecelia too quietly for Kate to hear.

  “Wait for it,” Cecelia whispered. “She’ll get there.”

  “You … you … you bitch,” Kate spat.

  Whoa, now.

  “Hey,” Antony barked. “That’s your fucking sister, Kate.”

  Kate sneered. “Watch it, Tony. Daddy might hear you cussing at me. What would happen to you, then, huh?”

  Antony literally had to force his body to stay seated. No other woman on earth made him want to be violent, but Kate did.

  Seems she had that effect on a lot of men.

  Cecelia, on the other hand, didn’t stay in her spot. She turned fast on her heel, moved to Antony’s side, and glared at Kate. “Leave him alone. He’s not yours to play stupid, silly games with Kate. Try that nasty shit with him again, and I promise it’ll be the last time you ever do.”

  Kate laughed. “You’re such a bitch.”

  “You already said that, Kate. Figure out something new.”

  “You’re only doing this because the attention isn’t on you, Cecelia. It’s supposed to be me.”

  “Yes, I’m getting married only because you are in three goddamn years, Kate. Come on, you’re ridiculous. This isn’t about you.” Cecelia waved at herself and Antony. He was only now finally catching up to speed and he agreed with Cecelia. Kate was ridiculous. “This, me and him, has absolutely nothing to do with you. It’s about us.”

  “It’s not fair,” Kate hissed.

  “That’s not my problem,” Cecelia replied, colder than Antony had ever heard her speak.

  Kate turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen as fast as she came. Cecelia went back to her task of mixing the dough in silence. Antony took an entire three minutes before he decided to speak again.

  “I’m starting to agree with John,” Antony said.

  Cecelia eyed him from the side, sadness coloring up her pretty green eyes. “About what?”


  “She needs a padded room and a diagnosis.”

  “It’s not about her, Antony,” Cecelia said fiercely.

  “It’s about us. I know.”

  “So, when she tries to make it about her, look the other way. She has to marry for business, but I don’t. I am not going to let her make this about her. Ever.”

  Chapter Seven

  October, 1984

  Antony turned, making sure his tux was as Cecelia demanded it be. Pressed where it should have been, not a thread out of place, and not a single speck of dust to be seen. His girl was a little crazy about having things her way, but Antony didn’t mind a bit.

  His wedding day, despite feeling like it took forever to actually get there, was going rather smoothly. He couldn’t help but feel a little sad that his mother and father would miss it, but he had his brother, cousins, and grandparents to share the day with, too. God knew Cecelia had more than enough guests from her side to fill up what he didn’t have.

  “Where’s my grandson?”

  Antony’s grandfather pushed through the men and women going in and out of the private hotel suite. They’d booked an entire floor for family and friends. Cecelia, however, had her own room closer to the bottom where there was less chance Antony would see her.

  He so wanted to fucking see her.

  “Cazzo, look at you, kid,” Andino said, tugging on the lapels of Antony’s suit. “Your father would have loved to see you all dressed up and smart like you are.”

  Antony felt stunned. His grandfather hadn’t once spoken about Ross Sr. since the man’s death months ago.

  “You always were his favorite, I think,” Andino added.

  “Why is that?” Antony asked.

  Andino laughed. “Because you were just like him and he knew it. You used to walk around making little guns with your hands. “Bang, bang,” you’d say. Telling everyone who would listen that your Papà was gonna get them.”

  “Yeah?”

  Antony couldn’t remember that.

  His grandfather shrugged like it didn’t make a difference. “Sure, kid. You look good, Tony. He and your Ma would be so proud of you. Big day for you, huh?”

  His nerves kept making an appearance.

  “Did I reach too high here?” Antony asked.

  Andino grinned. It was a familiar sight. The signature smirk all Marcello men knew how to turn on in a blink. “No way. Anybody with eyes can see that girl’s head over heels for your stupid ass. And don’t be fucking nervous, either. It’s a large crowd, but they’re all here for Vinnie, anyway. Ignore ‘em. Do what the priest tells you to. Smile for Cecelia.”

  At the mention of his future wife’s name, Antony smiled. “I haven’t seen her yet.”

  “That’s the point, kid. And don’t cry when you do. No man in la famiglia will ever let you live it down.”

  • • •

  Antony walked up to the altar to meet Johnathan where he stood waiting.

  John’s hand landed to Antony’s shoulder and squeezed tight. “Cristo, look at you.”

  “Stop it,” Antony muttered, brushing his best man’s hand off. It’d been a toss-up between John or Paulie, but Antony decided on John. Paulie hadn’t been offended, thank God. “Everyone keeps telling me that. Like I don’t look good on a regular day or some nonsense.”

  John laughed. “You do. But it’s your wedding day, so we have to—”

  “Hush, boys,” came a sharp voice behind Antony and John. “So far, one of you has taken the Lord’s name in vain and I’ve just about had enough.”

  Antony chuckled. “Shut up, John, or he won’t marry me.”

  John smirked. “Yeah, all right. You okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  Better than perfect, actually.

  “You got to be Paulie’s best man, so I think I’ll have him as mine,” Johnathan said quietly.

  “Sounds good,” Antony replied.

  John fell silent as the back doors to the cathedral opened. The wedding party wasn’t huge, but Cecelia had two bridesmaids who were cousins, her maid of honor which happened to be Kate, and a flower girl. The longer it took for those people to make their way down the aisle, the antsier Antony turned.

  He wanted Cecelia.

  He wanted her to be his wife.

  He wanted her to stand at his side.

  Soon.

  Now.

  Yesterday.

  When Cecelia came into view at the doorway with her father at her side, a veil shadowing her features and wearing a white dress that was long enough to sweep the floor as she moved, Antony stilled.

  God, he loved this woman.

  Sempre.

  Always.

  Forever.

  So, he thanked God for making her. There wasn’t another one like her.

  • • •

  “Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!”

  Antony accepted the kiss to his cheek and the hug that was far too tight from the millionth person he didn’t know. Cecelia, graceful and beautiful like always, did the same. The empty wine glass in his wife’s hand was passed over to a waiter and another one replaced it before the guest who had congratulated them gave Antony an envelope that was nearly an inch thick.

  John, right behind Antony, took the gift of cash and put it into a bag with the hundred others. The boss’s daughter had been married, the first of the two girls to tie the knot. It seemed like anyone who hadn’t been able to make it to the ceremony had come to the dinner and reception. The body count in the ballroom was so high Antony felt suffocated.

  Cecelia hadn’t left his side once. That helped.

  “You over this, yet?” John asked.

  Antony nodded. He’d been over it hours ago.

  Italian weddings were always large, loud, and never-ending. The culture of people who gathered to send the couple off into their life did so with a bang of epic proportions. Add in the fact half of the guests were also of Cosa Nostra origins, and that only made the event that much more important.

  Antony wished he had prepared better for this.

  Cecelia took it all in stride.

  The soft kiss of his wife’s lips pressing under his jaw and her hand fisting into his tux jacket brought Antony’s attention back to where it needed to be. She looked amazing in her wedding dress with her makeup and hair flawlessly done. Hell, his girl always looked perfect, but something about today made it a lot different.

  Like the fact he was going to learn what she looked like in nothing at all.

  Antony couldn’t wait for that.

  “You’re not a spotlight kind of man, are you?” Cecelia whispered in his ear.

  “No,” Antony admitted.

  Cecelia winked. “Well, we’ve cut the cake, had our dance, been here for hours, and said all the needed hellos …”

  “What are you dancing around, Tesoro?”

  Her fingers skipped lower to the belt of his slacks. “How about we say our goodbyes, now, too?”

  Jesus Christ.

  Yes.

  “Let’s do that.”

  Cecelia placed a searing, fast kiss to Antony’s mouth before pulling away far too soon for his liking. It didn’t matter. That quick kiss had woken up every single nerve in his body like nothing fucking else. He’d been aware of her at his side all night. Antony couldn’t ever forget she was there, but now … now, good God.

  His fucking cock was hard. Lust and desire swirled through his gut, pooling in his stomach and promising something wicked and divine.

  Antony never was any good at waiting for something he wanted.

  He had to be slow and wait for Cecelia. She wasn’t the same.

  She deserved much, much more.

  “I’ll go find my mother and father to let them know.”

  “Sure, sweetheart.”

  Antony let her go without an argument.

  Johnathan and Paulie sidled up beside Antony the moment Cecelia disappeared into the crowd.

  “Do we get to say cong
rats, too?” Paulie asked.

  “And goodbye,” John added. “You’re looking far too excited, Marcello. Wipe that shit off your face before Vinnie gets over here and sees you looking like a dog panting after his daughter, huh?”

  Antony laughed and shrugged. “I am, though.”

  “Yeah, we all know it. He doesn’t need to.”

  “True.”

  Paulie clapped his hand to Antony’s shoulder. “Have a very good night, man.”

  Antony grinned. “You know I will.”

  “And I’m gonna go find my wife and get her home myself,” Paulie finished with a chuckle.

  “Later.”

  Once Paulie was gone, too, Antony and John faced one another.

  “Thought it’d be me getting married first,” John admitted. “Between the two of us, I mean.”

  “You’ll get there.”

  John nodded but his stare was distance. “Yeah.”

  Antony didn’t need his friend to say the words he was thinking.

  But not to the one I want.

  That was probably what Antony felt the worst for when it came to Johnathan. He’d made the choice to marry Kate for business, sure, but there was no taking it back, now. Marriage in their world wasn’t a for now kind of thing.

  It was for life.

  “I’m glad you found the right one, Antony,” John murmured.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t,” Antony replied.

  John smiled, but it wasn’t true. “I did, but I was fucking stupid about it. Don’t ever be stupid about yours, man.”

  “I won’t.”

  • • •

  Antony hadn’t even gotten the hotel room door closed completely before Cecelia was on him.

  On fucking him.

  Her kiss was forceful, demanding. He reveled in the taste of her mouth and the way her tongue warred with his. Never had she kissed him so brazenly before. It was fucking heaven. She let her hands roam beneath his jacket, tugging his dress shirt out of his pants. When she couldn’t work the buttons out of the loops fast enough, she simply pulled on the fabric until they popped apart.