“Two years is two years. I’d like to see her again before she marches down the aisle. She might be ugly now.”
“Fucking liar. I’m loyal to you, but I have eyes. I’ve sent you photos.”
Yes, he has. Several of them. But, always taken on the sly. Always with her looking away, off into the distance, speaking to someone else. Never one of Caterina looking into the camera, never one of her staring back at me like she did in my room that day. Her innocence is… intoxicating. The demon inside loves the notion of corrupting that.
“I’ll come to town to find out what Nico gave her since you didn’t, and I need to remind her of a few things.”
Namely, that she is mine and her brothers will soon be a distant part of her past. I’m still half tempted to slit Nico’s throat during the wedding speeches. The thought brings a smile to my lips as I arrange for the private jet.
***
The women’s inane chatter dries up as I enter the bridal boutique. “Alessio, what are you doing here?” Frankie asks, stunned but pleased.
“I was in the neighborhood,” I answer as she bounds up for a hug.
She’s so fearless when she should be fucking petrified. She has no idea how many of our men would see her beaten and used like a whore because of the actions of her father. The Trio does not forgive rats, and Brian Donnelly has not only earned the hatred of the most powerful branch of the Italian mafia in the United States but also the rag-tag remnants of Boston’s Irish mob, the Black Rose Gang. It’s only my father’s pride and familial senseof duty to my Aunt Beatrice that prevents the women from being torn apart as Frankie’s older brother was upon news of the father’s betrayal.
Gia steps forward next with a careful embrace. My wrath stirs remembering the text Armando sent a short while ago –
Armando:
He's still beating her. Give me permission
I’d denied Armando that, not for the first time. Much higher-ranking than an old bodyguard, Barzetti knows he’s safe here in Chicago. If an opportunity should present itself in Las Vegas though…
There’s a flutter of protest when I move toward the dressing room, but I silence them with a look. Only Caterina and her mother are missing. I raise my eyebrows at Armando, and he leads the way.
“Alessio’s here to see you.”
“Alessio’s…WHAT?!”
Zeta Morelli pokes her head around the door as Armando steps back out to where the other women wait. “Alessio! You can’t be here. Caterina is in her-WAIT!”
“You’ll find I’m the exact opposite of patient,” I rasp, carefully pushing my way past her and closing the delicate door in her face.
When I turn, my lack of patience is rewarded. What a fucking sight. Layers and layers of white lace, it looks like something from one of those insufferable princess movies my sisters used to watch. She’s angelic. No other word seems to fit.A pure slice of Heaven served up to the Devil.
“My beautiful bride…” I drawl as unexpectedly fierce brown eyes glare back at me. The tourmalines couldn’t do them justice. Our girls are raised to be submissive, but I’m glad of the anger I see in Caterina’s eyes. It turns me on. I’d rather fuck this rage outof her on our wedding night until she’s moaning my name than have her trembling and crying beneath me.
Her pretty face and that long, lush black hair hanging around her delicate shoulders, Caterina was a lovely girl at sixteen. Two years later, she’s a fucking goddess.And, she’s soon to be mine in word and deed.My cock twitches at the thought.
“What are you doing here?” she snaps. “And, haven’t you ever heard it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding?”
“Luck is a daydream those losers in our casinos chase. I don’t believe in luck. But, I do believe in seeing my bride before we say ‘I do’ when I happen to be in town.”
“You… you’re in Chicago for business?”
“Sure,” I lie. “Thought I’d visit the whorehouse where my brother died while I’m here, too.” She flinches and, for some reason, I feel compelled to add, “I’m kidding about that part.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “My father didn’t mention you being here.”
Her father has no idea I’m in town, and he’ll lose his shit when he hears. Her brothers will probably come at me with guns blazing as soon as they know. I would welcome the chance to take them both out, but I suppose that would put a damper on the wedding festivities.
“What’s under all those layers?” I ask, stalking around her in her full skirt. I’ll have to use my knife to cut her out of this contraption when it’s time for the bedding. Just the thought of it makes me hard.
“Just me,” she replies, uneasily. The spark in her eyes is already fading. I scare her. Knowing what my father expects of me, she has every right to be scared.She’ll be fun to break, some twisted memory inside my head whispers.
“Just you,” I murmur, coming to a halt in front of her. The top of her head doesn’t reach my chin. So petite. Delicate. “How much does that dress weigh? Nearly as much as you, I’d bet.”
