by S. M. Dapelo
I turned around, “Our rooms? My rooms.” I put a finger up, “I doubt my father said you were sleeping with me.”
“That’s exactly what he said,” Luc smiled, “If you check the closets, you’ll notice one of them has all your things already unpacked into them, and one has mine. The sitting room is set up with your painting supplies. Elena insisted that you always thought of this room as the ‘happy room,’ whatever that means.”
“He’s really using me this way?” I sat down. “I know he’s never been thrilled with me, but an arranged marriage. In this day and age?”
Luc sighed and sat next to me. “He would have liked things to progress normally, but with your mother sick,” he paused. “She told him one of the things she didn’t want to miss out on was your wedding. He figured he’d push this, and hand the reins of his family to me, eventually.”
“You couldn’t turn that down,” I muttered.
“I could have.” He shrugged, “Hell, I was pissed when Marc came to me and told me what the two of them plotted. Then Marc pointed out that your dad gave me my favorite painting, and that you painted it. It’s this watercolor of a porch swing. It’s calming and was something I needed when I got it. Then I found you and watched you for a month.”
“That’s not creepy,” I muttered.
“It is creepy, but it’s what I do. We had to make sure no one tracked you. We couldn’t bring you back to early, or you’d be a target. We couldn’t let you know we were there, or you’d bolt,” Luc shrugged. “But as I watched you, I decided you were definitely someone I’d have wanted to know better anyway. Then I got you away into Montana. It doesn’t hurt that you cook better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
He pushed back a strand of my hair. “When we kissed,” he chuckled, “Well, that was the kicker. When I decide I’m in, I’m all in.”
I gave a tentative smile, then lost it as I thought of something else. “Do you know how long my mom has?” I asked with a quiver in my voice.
He took my hand, “A few months at most before hospice is going to be needed. Didn’t you notice that she’s in a wig? Elena’s been doing everything she could, taking her to the best specialists money can buy. Your mother helped her so much when Dom was killed. Now Elena’s helping her.”
I put a hand over my mouth, trying to control the scream that wanted to burst out of me. Luc grabbed me and pulled me into his chest as he had at the service. “I know this isn’t conventional, but they’re giving us time to get to know each other,” he spoke into the top of my head.
I took a few breaths and pulled back, “Really? So, if we decide we don’t like each other, we can cancel this?”
“If it’s not me, it’s my brother,” he sighed. “I love Marc, but there’s no way he’d be faithful. Not in this type of situation.”
“And you will?” I raised a brow, very much doubting what I heard.
“I’ve seen the poison that can infect a relationship when one side cheats. That’ll never be me. That’s why Marc pushed me into this and not himself,” he stroked my hair. “Marc knows his failings, he’s very self-aware. You two would probably be best friends, heck you probably still will be. But he’d never give you the commitment you need.” He pulled something out of his breast pocket, “That being said…” he put a jewelry box and held it in front of me.
“What’s this?”
He rolled his eyes, “I believe it’s tradition to give you an engagement ring.”
My mouth dropped open. “Oh my God, you were serious with Missy.”
“Just caught on to that, did you?” he asked dryly. He shook his head with an amused smile, “The ring was my mother’s. It’s been passed down through the family. It’s already been appraised for insurance purposes.” I flipped open the top to see a large round diamond accented by several smaller diamonds set in a platinum filigree setting.
“It’s beautiful,” I stared at it.
He took it out, “I had it resized when we were in Colorado.”
“How could you resize it? You don’t know what I wear,” I narrowed my eyes at him.
He didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. “Broke into your house and grabbed another one of your rings.” He slipped it on my finger, a perfect fit. I just stared at the ring. Luca cleared his throat, “I also got you this.” I looked up. He was holding a simple silver locket in front of him. I looked at him hesitantly, then took and opened it. Mom was on one side, my brother on the other, “I thought with the day you were going to have, those pictures would mean the most to you.”
I closed it; and launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you,” I whispered and hugged him. Then gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a pretty nice kidnapper.”
“A ring worth fourteen thousand dollars gets barely any response, but a fifty-dollar locket gets you in my arms,” he chuckled into my ear. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He ghosted his lips over mine, then licked my lip, then nipped. I gasped, and he deepened the kiss, grabbing the back of my neck and firming his lips. He slowly let up his assault.
I pulled back a bit embarrassed. He cupped my chin and looked at me. “We’ll make this work. I don’t have a doubt about that.” He leaned down, and his lips glided over mine, slowly deepening the kiss until I ended it. He was frowning. “Alley, how are experienced are you?”
“I’m twenty-two,” I got up from the bed, still looking at the locket.
“That’s not what I asked.” He got up as well, then took the locket and put it on me.
“My father’s one of the most notorious mobsters in the area. My brother made sure everyone knew who I was.” I shrugged, “How experienced do you think I am?”
“You went to college,” he started slowly.
“I went to the art institute here in town. With bodyguards. I think one of them eventually earned the same degree I did. I lived with my father when I did that,” I sighed.
“You dated?”
“Not really. I already told you about them,” I shrugged.
“So back to my original question,” he put his hands on my shoulders. I started to tell him what he could do with his question when there was a knock. “We’ll finish this later,” sighed Luc as he opened the door.
A maid stood there, smiling. “Mrs. Amato wanted to make sure Miss Alley changes. She said she shouldn’t be wearing black for the announcement.”
I rolled my eyes, “Did she mention any specific color I was to wear?”
“Violet,” she smiled at Luca. He raised a brow and nodded. Then shut the door.
“I guess you need to change,” he ran a hand through his hair. “You do that, and I’ll check my phone for messages.”
I gave a small nod and opened the door to the closest closet; it was full of men’s clothes. “You weren’t kidding about them moving you in here.”
He looked up and smiled, “Nope.”
I tilted my head, “So where are you sleeping? Because the settee doesn’t look big enough for you.”
“Funny, button. You’re already used to sleeping with me,” he drawled as he pointed to the other closet. “Go change.”
I walked into the closet and realized that my stepmother had been busy, or at least Missy had. “You know, buying me gifts with sweet meanings behind them is going to ruin your reputation as a badass,” I called out.
“We’ll keep it between the two of us,” I heard answered. I grabbed a dark purple wrap dress that hit right above my knee and went into the bathroom and changed.
I walked out, the necklace still on. “Are you sure we can’t get out of this?”
He walked over to me and took my hand, walking us out the door, “Who says I want to? This stops any talks of a mob war.”
“And you inherit the family business,” I sighed.
He frowned at me, “For the next month, we’re spending as much time as possible together, except for when I’m training the additional guards.”
I stopped and stared, “The next month
?”
“We’re getting married at the beginning of next month. Your dad already rented out the cathedral. The invitations go out tomorrow.” He frowned at me, “Missy just sent a dozen dresses over here for you to choose from.”
I realized I was starting to shake. Luc put his hands on my shoulders, “This isn’t ideal, I understand that. But this is a hell of a lot more honest than me pretending to run into you at a coffee house or art exhibit. Which, by the way, was originally suggested to me. I won’t tell you by who.” Then he treaded his fingers through mine and led me into the ornate ballroom where everyone else was.
I felt the eyes on us as he wound me around the guests to my father’s side. My breath was coming in short bursts. I was always ignored by the family, never paid attention to unless they wanted to pick on someone. I used to complain about it, however, now I wished for it. Marco was talking to Mom and Elena next to Dad, and when we reached him, my father turned, saying something to him. Then my father took a spoon and hit his glass. The room went silent in under five seconds.
“This morning we mourned my son, Dominic, who was taken from us six months ago,” my father started in a clear voice. “While we will never forget him, the time for mourning him is done. Before he was stolen from us, he sent my daughter Alessandra away. He hid her well because I sent over a dozen of my men to find her with no luck.” He looked around the room. A few men were jutting their jaws out or crossing their arms. “A month ago, I contacted Marco Romano, whom I had helped in the past and made a deal with him. If his group found my daughter, there would be lasting peace between our families. He sent his brother, Luca. He found her in a week.” Muttering started around us.
“Because Luca found her, she is back with us. She is my only child. As a symbol of faith, as proof that there is now peace between our families, Luca will be helping me restructure our organization. Some of you won’t like it.” My father took a drink out of his glass. “Tough. The Romano family will be joining with the Amato family. It begins unofficially now.”
“When does it officially begin,” someone yelled from the back.
My father raised a brow, “In a month, when Luca and Alessandra are married.” Voices started raising as everyone tried to make heads or tails out of what was going on. A glass was shoved into my hand.
“Enjoy some prosecco,” Marco smiled at me, “and watch the show. This is going to be better than the Walking Dead. Every man who ever ignored you and every woman who ever insulted you are going to be kissing your ass. Hell, your uncle looks like he’s going to barf.”
I downed the glass and leaned my head toward Luca, “What’s a walking dead?” I asked. He laughed, grabbed my face in his hands, and kissed me.
He leaned back as the room quieted almost immediately. “Don’t ever change,” he whispered against my lips, his eyes sparkling. “I’m having too much fun getting to know you. And everything I’ve seen so far, I adore.”
“You’ve known me less than two weeks,” I whispered back.
“And what a two weeks it’s been,” he smiled. Then he took my empty glass and handed me another, “To Alley, the woman who will always come first in my life.” He tilted a glass toward me as I took another sip.
“As I said before,” my father’s voice rose in the quiet. “The time for mourning is over. Luca found Alley when none of my men could. He will find Dom’s killer. He takes over the position Dom held, my second, from this moment forward.”
“How can he be your second and his brother’s?” my uncle’s voice rang out.
“I’m great at multi-tasking,” answered Luca.
“My wife, Elena, Jennifer, and Alley have dresses to look at if any of the ladies would like to accompany them to the Green Salon. Now is time for the men to discuss business,” my father announced as Mom pranced up and took my arm, leading me from the room. I looked back, and Luca gave a small smile to me before going to stone as he looked over the men in the room.
9
“I convinced Missy to get us twelve different gowns from one of the top stores in town,” smiled Elena, “All you have to do is to try them on and find one you like. They’ll do the alterations here, and we’re set.”
“Elena, I don’t know how to thank you,” Mom smiled at her.
“It’s nothing compared to how you helped me,” Elena grabbed Mom’s hand, squeezing it.
“I’ve entered the twilight zone,” I said under my breath.
“Try this on,” Elena handed me a bag, “It’s supposed to be the latest style.” She looked around. About a dozen other women had joined us. “Maggie, grab the champaign. Get the good stuff from Cosmo’s private selection.” I sighed and walked into another room. Then struggled for about twenty minutes, trying to zip the damn dress up before a tall, curvy brunette looked in.
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“Please,” I sighed. “I can’t figure out this zipper.”
She giggled and closed it up, “I’m Cindy, Rudy’s wife. We’ve only been married a couple of weeks.”
“Isn’t Rudy sixty?” I glanced at her, she was in a tiny gray dress that left little to the imagination and looked my age.
“Maybe, but he has the stamina of a twenty-year-old. We met when I went to his restaurant,” Cindy giggled. “Come on, your moms are already half-way drunk.”
I shook my head and headed out. “Ohhhh,” my Mom clapped her hands in excitement. “Do you love it? It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s trimmed in black,” I deadpanned. I heard Cindy snort.
“It’s couture.” Elena smiled as she finished her drink, then she did a double-take, “And trimmed in black. It might send the wrong message.”
“Agreed,” I smiled at her and ran back into the other room. Cindy followed and handed me a drink.
“New game,” she smiled, “Every time they ask if you love it or they say they love it, we have to drink a glass.”
“It might make this bearable,” I smiled at her as I downed the bubbly.
She helped me into the second dress and tilted her head to the side, “I like the style, but the empire look kinda implies you’re preggers. You’re not, are you?”
“So not,” I shook my head. “But it’s sooo comfy. It could only be better if it had pockets.”
“Get it over with,” she smiled as she opened the door.
“Oh,” went the voices in unison. “It’s beautiful. It’s the one. You love it, don’t you?” a tall red-head asked.
“And no one will ever think your pregnant,” smiled one of my cousins. Bianca, I hated her.
“Don’t worry, they’ll be busy looking at you,” I fake smiled at her. She preened. “You’re what? Six months?”
“You bitch,” she ground out.
“Next,” Cindy said as I turned and walked away. Cindy handed me a glass and drank hers along with me.
The next dress was skintight, strapless, and looked like the bottom was a bunch of large flowers. “I’m drinking now.” I downed another glass as Cindy joined in. “If anyone says they love it, I get to punch them, right?”
“Let’s see who it is first,” Cindy gave a small shake of her head. “If it’s Elena or Jennifer, you wouldn’t want to.”
I sighed, walked out, and did a complete about-face when Mom squealed.
The next was a tight lace minidress with a huge detachable tulle skirt. “This is a joke, right?” Cindy asked. “Even I wouldn’t wear that, and I was a stripper.”
I sighed and walked out, walked to Elena, grabbed her glass, and chugged down her champaign, “No.” I said, turned and walked into the other room.
The next was a lace bodice with a tulle skirt. The front of the skirt went so high I was worried about sitting without flashing everyone, and the back trailed on the ground. The one after was a lace overlay on a nude material. It was also a jumpsuit. With a cape. It only got worse from there. By the time we had finished the eleventh outfit, a pantsuit, I was close to tears. And extremely drunk, because those women th
ought Mom or Elena chose the dresses and were kissing up.
“Don’t cry, sweety,” cooed Cindy, “We’ll sneak out of here, go to a local bridal shop and find you the perfect dress.”
I sat in the middle of a bunch of lace and tulle looking around. The world was spinning. I crawled to my purse, pulled my phone out, and made a call.
“Hello,” came a deep voice.
“Where’s my daddy,” I wailed.
“Alley? Is that you? Are you okay? It’s Marco. Your father’s dealing with something, can he call you back?”
“They’re all ugly,” I bawled. “I’m marrying someone I barely know, and he’s prettier than me, and all the dresses I’ve tried on are ugly. One was black, and one wasn’t even a dress. Those Stepford Wives keep telling me they love it, and I have to take a drink every time they say it. The only wife I like is Cindy.”
“Cindy?”
“Rudy’s new wife.”
“Oh.”
“She gets to be my matron of honor.”
“Really?” Cindy perked up.
“You’re the only honest one,” I shrugged.
A distinct voice came over the phone. “Alessandra, what’s wrong?” Dad asked.
“I can’t explain myself again. Get the cliff notes version from Marc,” I sighed, laying my head against the floor. “I just want a pretty dress. One that’s not black or cut down to my stomach, or makes me look naked.”
“The wedding dress made you look naked?” Dad sounded outraged. “Luca’s on his way.”
“He can’t see me in a dress before we get married,” I started crying again.
“How much have you drunk?” Dad asked.
“I don’t know. It’s the Stepford Wives’ fault. They keep telling me they love everything I put on, but it’s all ugly,” I sobbed again. I sobered a moment, “Cindy’s my matron of honor.”
“Cindy?”
“Rudy’s new wife.”
“Oh. Why?”
“She’s the only honest one,” I replied. “I might beat the shit out of Bianca. I hate her. She said I looked pregnant.”
