by Lilly LaRue
Chapter Two
A cacophony of voices woke her. Blinking, disoriented, and with a killer headache, it took her a moment to realize she was curled up against a warm body. A warm male body, belonging to Aronne. Memories of last night flooded through her, but she had no time to process them before the yelling started.
Aronne jumped, apparently sleeping deeply. As soon as his vision cleared, and he saw both sets of parents, along with Molly and Cristiano, standing over them, he cursed. A second later, they were somehow both sitting, and he’d given her the lion’s share of the afghan.
Warren Powers looked like he was going to have a heart attack, and she was genuinely worried for her dad by the red stain on his face. That didn’t give her enough courage to speak.
“What the hell is happening?” asked Tracey. “Molly, has he hurt you?”
“No, Mom.” She cupped her head, wincing as their voices reverberated through her. Santo Giannis launched into a tirade in Italian, and she was glad she didn’t understand the language.
“How could you do this, Molly?” demanded Margot, tears falling from her eyes. “This is my night, and you’ve ruined it.”
“I doubt that,” said Aronne, sounding annoyed. “You’re still just as engaged, aren’t you?”
Molly frowned at how bitter he sounded.
“How dare you do this?” yelled her father. “Have you no decency, Aronne Giannis?” He turned to Santo. “Is this how you raised your son?”
“No,” said Santo, his expression grim.
“Hey, hold on. You’re acting like I raped her or something.”
Sophia Giannis clutched a tissue and dabbed her eyes as Molly’s mother demanded, “Just what do you call coercing a seventeen-year-old into sex?”
“Seventeen?” Aronne suddenly lunged from the couch, scooping up his pants and putting them on as he turned to confront her. “You’re only seventeen?”
Molly hung her head, reluctantly nodding.
He cursed in Italian.
“You despicable bastard.” Warren seemed on the verge of attacking the much younger, fitter man.
She made herself look up. “He didn’t force me to do anything.”
Aronne seemed stunned, and rage burned in his dark eyes. “She led me to believe she was much older.”
Tracey wore a severe expression. “Is this true, young lady?”
Trembling with fear, she made herself say, “Yes. I mentioned having finished school, and he assumed college. I didn’t correct his assumption.”
He cursed again. “I had no idea she was so young.” His gaze felt like it scorched her. “I have no time to play games with silly little girls.”
“You have to get married,” said Santo loudly.
Sophia nodded. “Of course. That will fix everything.”
“What?” asked Aronne and Molly together.
Her mouth hung open for a second before she closed it with a click. “We aren’t getting married,” she said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Aronne.
Santo’s anger matched Aronne’s, and he seemed almost the same height as his taller son when he stiffened his spine. “You will do the honorable thing, or I will disinherit you.”
Aronne scoffed. “You’d destroy the company if you made Cristiano your heir. She isn’t worth that.”
Molly flinched at the way he said it. She’d known he would be angry, but she’d half-hoped she could persuade him to get over it. Of course, she hadn’t counted on them being discovered in flagrante delicto. Her vague plan had assumed they would be alone when he found out. The random thought that she’d remembered a little of the Latin she’d taken in high school flashed through her hung-over brain.
“You can put no price on honor,” said Santo.
After a second, he said through clenched teeth, “Fine. Disinherit me. I don’t care.”
“You’re going to marry her, or I will call the police. It won’t matter that she consented. In their eyes, this is statutory rape, and I suspect you’re too old to fall under the protection of Romeo and Juliet laws.” Warren’s unexpected contribution made Molly gasp.
“Dad, you can’t do that.”
“Not another word.” He vibrated with an anger she had never seen.
“I’m not marrying him,” she said again. “You’re acting like this is Victorian England. We did nothing wrong.”
“Wrong, cara,” said Aronne coldly. “You lied, and I foolishly believed you.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she looked away. It was nothing more than the truth. She had lied by omission to get a kiss from her crush. That it turned into something more was still her burden. “This is all my fault.”
“Yes,” said Tracey, eyes glittering. “You’re a whore.”
Molly gasped at her mother’s words. “I’m not a whore. I’ve never even had—” She broke off abruptly, realizing her confession of her previously virginal status wouldn’t help anything.
“Porca troia,” said Aronne, sounding like he was in pain. “You were a virgin.” He leveled the accusation like it was akin to committing murder.
Refusing to answer, she turned her gaze away, meeting Cristiano’s by accident. His sympathetic expression threatened her already tenuous hold on her emotions, and she swallowed thickly.
“You see!” Santo pointed at her. “She was an innocent. You will marry her.”
“Or go to prison,” said Warren, sounding firm.
Molly shook her head. “Stop this.”
Aronne’s expression changed from anger to something else. Defeat? His shoulders slumped. “Very well. I see I have no choice.”
What? He was agreeing with this madness? Molly pulled the afghan tighter around herself and stood up. “Are you all crazy? I’m not marrying him.”
Her father turned his cold gaze on her. “If you don’t marry Aronne, I’ll make sure he’s imprisoned for dishonoring you.”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t. Daddy, please—”
“Well, decide, Molly.”
Her gaze flickered between Aronne and her father, before touching on her sullen sister, and the irate mothers. Coming full-circle, she met Aronne’s gaze, and the naked contempt shredded her heart. Tears streaked down her face. She couldn’t let her dad put him in jail—clearly a plan Santo agreed with—but how could she force him to marry her? She didn’t want to marry anyone, even him.
Completely expressionless, Aronne said, “Given the choice, you are preferable to prison, cara.” The endearment was cold and sarcastic. “Barely.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she somehow managed to say, “Okay,” through trembling lips. Could this really be happening?
♥♥♥
It was, and it did. Apparently deciding not to give either of them a chance to change their minds, both sets of parents made it their task to organize a wedding as soon as possible. Somehow, it all came together within four days. That morning, Molly stood in front of a full-length mirror in her closet, stunned at the sight looking back. The plain white dress looked bridal with the addition of lace gloves. A pillbox hat with a small white veil sat atop her hair, which the stylist had curled and pinned up into a mature, sophisticated style. She looked like a young woman about to get married.
Inside, she felt like a terrified child. Aronne hadn’t spoken once to her since the morning in the study when their parents had decided to ruin their lives. No, she couldn’t say that fairly. She had ruined their lives by misrepresenting who she was, knowing Aronne wouldn’t have looked twice at her if he’d known just how young she was.
It didn’t have to be for long. If he would just listen to her, she already had a plan. They wouldn’t consummate the marriage, and she could file for an annulment as soon as she turned eighteen. He would still hate her, but at least he wouldn’t be trapped in a marriage he didn’t want.
The sound of her bedroom door opening broke her musing, and she looked up, seeing Margot standing behind her. Turning to her sister, she took in the skinny jeans and T-shirt
, and her heart sank. “You aren’t going to be my maid-of-honor?”
“Are you insane?” Margot scorned. “I only pretended to go along with it because Mother insisted. I wouldn’t be at that farce if you paid me.”
“I wouldn’t either, if I could stop this,” said Molly softly. It stung to know how little her sister cared for her.
“I was supposed to get married first. It should be my wedding Mother’s planning, not this sham.” Angry tears sparkled in her hazel eyes, making them look greener today. “I’ll never forgive you for this as long as I live, Molly.” She stormed out.
“Join the club,” said Molly softly. She already knew Aronne wouldn’t forgive her. How could she forgive herself? She’d gotten one night with him, but look what it had cost everyone. Feeling sick, she somehow trudged out of her bedroom to meet her mother on the landing.
“Where’s Margot?” asked Tracey.
“She’s not coming.”
Tracey’s lips pursed, but she nodded. “I can’t blame her. She so hurt and disappointed by your behavior, just like the rest of us.”
Molly closed her eyes in an attempt to control the urge to reply. She’d done nothing but argue with her mother since the morning after, but nothing had changed. Nothing would change, except her entire life, at least for the next few weeks.
Her father waited at the bottom of the stairs, and he tucked her arm into his. Giving her a reassuring smile, he said, “It will work out. You’ll soon see this is the best resolution to the problem.”
She couldn’t summon even a shaky smile, but she nodded. At least he wasn’t acting as cold to her as her mother and sister. Once she’d capitulated about the marriage, he seemed to have gotten over a lot of his anger. She knew his forgiveness would be complete as soon as she signed the marriage license.
Hoping against hope that Aronne wouldn’t be standing in the salon with his brother, parents, and a justice of the peace, her stomach clenched when she saw him. He wouldn’t have been able to get out of it either, though he’d probably spent the last few days trying to find a way.
Cristiano stood at his side, looking relaxed where the elder Giannises were tense. Her gaze met Aronne’s, and she shivered at the ice she found there. It was physically painful to meet his eyes, and she looked away. She could almost feel his rejection as she stepped up beside him. Her groom made no move to touch her, which stung, though she knew it shouldn’t matter. He must hate her, and how could she blame him?
The justice of the peace was an older woman, and she sped through the ceremony. When it was time for Aronne to repeat his vows, the small collection of guests seem to collectively hold their breath as he took her hand, holding a gold band. His eyes burned with recriminations when he said, “I promise to take Molly as my lawfully wedded wife, for sickness and health, and better or worse. Not that things could get any worse,” he said sardonically. He had completely skipped over the section about loving, honoring, and cherishing her. After a brief hesitation, the justice of the peace turned to Molly.
Molly barely kept from bursting into tears as she tried to repeat her vows. Like him, she skipped the love, honor, and cherish. When the celebrant indicated they should kiss, his lips barely touched her cheek before he stepped back. They followed her over to sign the marriage license, and he stalked out of the room as soon as it was done, even before their fathers had a chance to sign as the witnesses.
Torn, Molly finally went after him, needing to tell him her plan for the annulment. He went straight to the guestroom her father had insisted he use the past four days, apparently to keep him from fleeing. The door slammed behind him, and she opened it without knocking. “I need to talk to you.”
“Get out.”
Ignoring him, she closed the door. “I have an idea how to fix this.”
Aronne turned on her, striding forward to grab her upper arms. He shook her slightly. “Fix this? You can never fix this, Molly. My parents have no respect for me. I have no respect for myself. I let a pale substitute sway me.”
She frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand.” When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “I’ll be eighteen in a couple of weeks. We’ll file for an annulment, and that will be the end of this.”
Aronne scowled. “Are you really that naïve? My father has already made it clear I will be out of the family if I divorce you in the near future.” A hard laugh escaped him. “I had to promise to stay married to you for at least two years, to give our marriage a fair chance.” He raked her with his contemptuous gaze. “As if there is a chance in hell I will stay married to you even a day longer than I must.”
She reeled back, cowering from his anger and the knowledge they had to stay married two years, or he would be disowned. Molly assumed it went deeper than running a company he didn’t want to head. They had seemed like a close family, and she had seriously undermined their connection. She couldn’t make him lose his family entirely. “Okay, so we’ll file for the annulment in two years.”
A smile crossed his lips, but did nothing to warm his frigid eyes. “There’s a problem with that, cara. There’s no way I’ll be trapped with you for the next two years and not take advantage of what you so eagerly offer. When this charade ends, it will be with a divorce. There will be no annulment.”
His implication penetrated her confusion, and she shook her head. “That will just make things worse. We can’t.”
“We can.” His hands loosened on her arms, but only to find her zipper to pull it down. The wedding dress slid to the floor, leaving her in a white slip and panties. With the dress being so long, she hadn’t bothered with pantyhose.
“I don’t want to.”
“Liar.” He cupped her breast, immediately provoking a response and leaving the mound heavy and full-feeling. “You’re dying for it. Since you went to such trouble to get it, not caring about the consequences, I’m going to give it to you.”
Molly resisted, but he soon had her melting against him as he touched her with cold accuracy, designed to arouse her but unable to reach her emotions. She was torn between tears and moans when he swept her up and took her to the bed. It was wrong. It felt wrong on every level but physical when he pulled off his wedding suit and joined her on the bed. She wanted to turn away, to reject him, but her body was pliant when he moved over her, surging inside her heat with one hard thrust.
He brought her to an orgasm before letting himself find release. As the pleasure swept through her, relaxing her tension for just a moment, he leaned closer. She thought he was going to kiss her, since he hadn’t at all, other than that peck at the ceremony.
Instead, Aronne got near her face, staring deep into her eyes. “Just my luck to end up with the wrong sister.”
Molly’s eyes widened. “What?” she whispered.
“I wanted Margot. She loves Cristiano, and I would never come between them.” He sneered. “Unlike you, I have some decency. When I saw you, I thought the resemblance to Margot might be enough, but it isn’t. You are a severe disappointment.”
Her mouth quivered, but she bit down hard on her tongue to keep from bursting in to tears. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” Abruptly, he rolled off her and stood up.
Feeling numb, while lacerated at the same time, she watched him dress in casual clothes. Her stomach tightened when he started shoving items into the suitcase his brother had brought him a few days ago. “What are you doing?” Was he planning to move in to her room? Was he taking her to his home?
“I’m leaving. I agreed to two years, but I never promised I would stay with you physically. I’ve arranged to take over the management of our hotel groups in Brazil.” His cool expression betrayed nothing. “You won’t lay eyes on me ever again, with luck. In two years, I’ll file for divorce, and I can forget this whole nightmare, and what you turned me into.”
Molly wet her lips. “What did I turn you into?”
“A creep who fucks young girls.”
She flinched at the expletive. “You d
on’t have to do this. You can stay here, in the city, without living with me.”
He shrugged. “I probably could, but it will be easier this way. Besides, I need to get over my infatuation with your sister.” Without another word, he finished packing and left the room. Molly stayed on the bed for a while longer, trying to staunch the flow of tears so she could make it to her room.
When she walked into her bedroom, she closed the door and sagged when she saw Margot sitting in a chair. “Please just leave. I can’t go through more emotional scenes today.” Without waiting for a reply, she reached for a robe and slipped it on over the slip. Her panties and the wedding dress remained in a heap on the floor, beside his discarded suit, in the guestroom. She never wanted to see it—or him—again.
As she sat on the bed, she was surprised when Margot sat down beside her. “Please don’t. I’m sorry I ruined your party and your wedding. I didn’t mean to. Can we please leave it at that?” Her fragile self-esteem couldn’t take another blow right then. It was still trying to regroup in the face of the news that her husband was in love with her sister, and he’d only been attracted to her because she looked somewhat like Margot.
To her surprise, Margot put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, sis. I shouldn’t have said those things, and I shouldn’t have refused to come to your wedding. I know none of this was your idea. You and Aronne were both manipulated by our parents.”
She couldn’t remember the last time Margot had really noticed her, let alone offered comfort. New tears burst from her eyes, and she hugged her sister. “What made you change your mind?” she asked in a wet voice.
“I’d like to say it was maturity and common sense, but it was Cristiano.” Molly lifted her head. Margot smiled. “I know. He pointed out how ridiculous I was acting and reminded me you were going to need support.” Her smile faded to a frown. “I don’t know how to tell you this gently. Cristiano said Aronne is going to Brazil.”
