"You two make such a lovely couple," coos an older woman I recognize as one of the Syndicate bosses' wives. I’m pretty sure her name is Bridget, and that she’s married to Ronan Delaney. "I'm sure you'll be very happy together."
"Thank you," I reply automatically, leaning into Cesare's side like I'm supposed to. "We're very excited to start our life together."
What a fucking lie.
Cesare's arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer. To anyone watching, it looks affectionate. But I can feel the possessiveness in his touch, the silent reminder that I belong to him now.
As the night drags on, anxiety builds in my chest. The champagne I've been sipping does nothing to calm my nerves. I know what's expected tonight, what I've been groomed for my entire life.
But the reality is more terrifying than I imagined.
Tonight, Cesare takes what's left of my innocence.
Finally, after what feels like forever, Cesare announces it's time to retire. Cheers and suggestive comments follow us as we leave the ballroom.
My legs feel like jelly as we head upstairs.
We reach Cesare's room, and the moment the door closes behind us, his hand falls away from my waist. He steps back, putting distance between us.
"You played your part well tonight," he says, voice cool and detached. "I trust you'll continue to do so in private."
I swallow hard, fighting back the fear and uncertainty threatening to overwhelm me. "Of course," I reply, proud my voice sounds steady. "I understand my role in this marriage."
Cesare's eyes narrow, studying me with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. But I hold his gaze, refusing to show weakness.
He reaches for his tie and starts undoing it.
This is it. The moment I've been dreading.
Cesare's eyes never leave mine as he removes his tie and starts unbuttoning his shirt. I stand frozen, unsure what to do or say.
"Turn around," he commands softly but firmly.
I obey, heart pounding as I feel him step closer. His fingers find my dress zipper, slowly pulling it down. As the dress pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but lacy white lingerie, I fight the urge to cover myself.
I've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable.
Cesare's hand trails down my bare back, his touch sending shivers through me. "Beautiful," he murmurs, breath hot against my neck.
I close my eyes, steeling myself. This is my duty. It’s what I was raised for.
He turns me to face him, his eyes raking over my body with unconcealed hunger. "Are you afraid?" he asks, voice low and husky.
I consider lying, but something in his gaze tells me he'd see through it. "Yes," I admit softly.
A small smile tugs at his lips. "Good," he says. "Fear keeps us sharp, keeps us alive in this world."
Before I can respond, his lips crash into mine in a searing kiss. Nothing like the chaste peck at the altar. This kiss is all heat and passion and barely restrained hunger.
I find myself responding despite my fear, body arching into his as his hands roam my curves. When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
Cesare leads me to the bed, gently pushing me onto the plush mattress. As he looms over me, his eyes dark with desire, I realize there's no going back now.
This is my life. For better or worse, I'm Cesare Mariano's wife.
"You're beyond beautiful," he says roughly. "Every man in that room wanted you tonight," he murmurs, hands running along my body. "But you're mine, Vittoria. No one else can have you."
His thumb brushes across my nipple, and I bite back a moan.
