Anger makes that little devil in me bolder. “That’s the only thing he’d prize in a daughter. Is that what you want out of your wife?”
He smirks without answering. “No more champagne until dinner.”
“What if I disobey? Are you going to cut off my fingers so I can’t lift my glass?”
“No. I’ll cut off the fingers of whoever refills your glass and make you watch me do it.” I shudder beneath the weight of his gaze because I know he’s capable of that. “I won’t fuck you if you’re comatose, and I am looking forward to making you mine tonight, wife. Now, smile like the happy bride you are.”
Trembling, I paste on my social smile as his father and Bibi are first to offer their congratulations. “My son,” Silvio says, his voice booming with pride when he claps his shoulder. “Your bride is the picture of loveliness.”
Alessio inclines his head in agreement as Silvio drags me into an uncomfortably tight embrace. Alessio immediately stiffens beside me. “Don’t worry, child,” Silvio says. “The bad blood will diewithyou.”
With me.The champagne flute slips from my fingers, shattering on the floor as all the blood drains from my face.
“A little clumsy, aren’t we?” Bibi tuts, rolling her eyes. The servers hurriedly sweep up the mess as she whispers in my ear. “Don’t cry tonight when he breaks you in. A woman’s tears to a De Luca are like blood in the water to a shark.”
I start shaking where I stand, unable to control my trembling until Alessio wraps his arm around my waist, tugging me away from his father and stepmother. “What did she say?” he huffs in my ear. I can’t bring myself to repeat it, worried he’ll only say something worse in return and then I’ll never make it through this.
I’m saved from responding by my parents who are next in line. My brothers and Margareta stand behind them. My parents and Margareta speak but Dante, Nico and Alessio only stare at each other. The tension is so thick it could be cut with the knife as they wait for someone to flinch. I rush forward to hug Dante, knowing he’s most likely to act rashly. He holds me tightly, but I know he’s still busy trying to murder Alessio with his eyes.
The arrival of Don Vicini and his family immediately after that helps prevent any violence, and I paste on a bright smile for them, knowing Sofia will soon be wed to the future Don.
Armando steps forward next, introducing his father, Giovanni. Gia has said he's one of her father's most valued men, but he has not been rewarded with the advancement he deserves, and he remains a soldier. He's around ten years older than my father with a surprisingly kindly air about him. Some men hide their monster better than others though. "I understand you were stuck with my son as your guard for nearly two years in Chicago, you poor girl." I can't help grinning at his obvious playfulness.
When he turns to Alessio, I'm struck by something else. His hand rests on Alessio's shoulder, much as his father did earlier, but Alessio does not seem stiff or eager to shake off the touch. Instinct tells me my new husband respects Armando's father and the affection between them feels more natural. "This is a special day for you, Sio. You have been blessed with a radiant girl. Remember what I told you."
"What did he tell you?" I murmur once Armando and Giovanni have moved on.
"Never let your guard down around a Morelli."
I frown, suspecting a lie but not knowing him well enough to be sure. "My brothers told me similar things about your family, but I like your sisters, Frankie and Valdo very much." He's not looking at me, but I catch a glimmer ofsomethingbefore he masks it.
The rest of the receiving line passes in a blur beyond one of the De Luca captains leering at me. “Lorenzo.” The way Alessio says the man’s name is a clear warning.
“Oh, I mean no disrespect. I’m admiring with my eyes, no more,” the man says, still leering. “Wouldn’t want to wind up like that old bodyguard.”
“What did he mean? What old bodyguard?” I ask Alessio after the man moves on.
He keeps his eyes facing forward when he replies, “No idea.”
That's a lie, and I want to know more, but the line keeps moving and suddenly the tall man Gia and Sofia pointed out stands before us. The bastard half-brother.
He’s wearing a jacket but no tie. Where his shirt is open I can see burn scars on his throat, leading up to his left ear. His three-headed wolf tattoo is smaller, beneath his right ear for that reason. There’s no warmth in his eyes when he rasps in flawless Italian,“I migliori auguri a te.”
“Grazie, Nerio,”Alessio answers with equal coldness. That was the least convincing best wishes and thanks I’ve ever heard.
The man leaves us without another word. “He didn’t kiss my hand or speak to me,” I comment, not offended by his lack of social graces but surprised, nonetheless.
“There would’ve been blood had he dared.”
Looking into his eyes, I realize Alessio is deadly serious. “He’s your other half-brother, right?” I ask, at a loss for what else to say.
Momentary surprise flashes across his face before his cool mask slips back in place. “Those girls do love to chatter in the nursery.” I scowl at his dismissive tone. “Yes, he is, but don’t worry. My father sent him to work in Salt Lake City years ago. He rarely comes to Vegas and only when the old man invites him.”
“Why would I worry about him coming to town?”
“If you knew him, you’d know why.”
With that ominous non-answer, I clasp my hands together and turn to the next in line.
