She is the picture of prim and proper, my lovely bride. Back straight, eyes looking down, and that delicate mouth set in a slight pout. A picture-perfect sight of submission, and I can tell the wedding guests are buying it. I heard the whispers earlier, quite laughable.
That Marino girl is so sweet.
That fucking Rossi devil is going to eat her alive.
How lovely is that girl? No wonder her parents have kept her hidden from the public.
So innocent…
Oh, they have no idea.
It's ironic, really. That I, too, believed Sofia Marino to be a fragile little thing I would need to constantly keep watch over lest she break. The memory of those pretty green eyes glaring at me back in the bridal suite has the edges of my mouth tugging into a grin.
"Which version is the real you, I wonder?" Those pretty eyes look up from the floor and meet mine. Lord above, they’re beautiful. “Is it this innocent naive face you put on for a crowd or the temperamental little thing that throws a fit in private?”
She scowls at me before she remembers herself and where we are, quickly softening her expression with a smile. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late to ask about my true nature?”
I spin her slowly, watching as she twirls before pulling her flush against me. I lean down and take a deep breath, the scent of her perfume filling my senses as I trace my lips over the curve of her cheek, smiling when she shudders. “I wonder what side of you I’ll see when I have you naked under me.”
Her gasp is soft, and when I pull back, I see the flush of her cheeks. “I’m not… I… This is not an appropriate time to say something like that." The pink in her cheeks deepens. “Maybe you are used to being lewd, but I was raised with manners.”
I chuckle. “That’s not what you were saying when I had my fingers buried under your dress earlier–”
Her hand comes up and clamps over my mouth, cutting off the rest of my words and, quite frankly, the rest of my thoughts.
A slight touch… and the glare in those beautiful eyes has my cock hardening in an instant. I’m half dizzy with need. Fuck, I’ve been trying not to think about what happened in her bridal suite.
The taste of her.
The feel of her smooth, silky skin against my hard, calloused fingers.
“What happened earlier…" she starts, slowly drawing her hand from my mouth, "will not happen again. I'm not… sleeping with you. I don't even know you!"
It should irritate me. Her constant denial of this union should piss me off, but there is a sick thrill at knowing just how exciting it’ll be to prove her wrong.
I will touch her.
And she’ll beg me not to stop.
It’ll be exciting to watch my stubborn little treasure come apart in my arms, but I don’t challenge her with the truth. Instead, I hold her close as we waltz in silence and in sync. My arms stay wrapped possessively around her narrow waist even as the music winds down and the dimmed ballroom turns bright with light indicating the end of the couple’s dance. We’re surrounded in seconds, and Giovanni is already taking my wife’s hand.
“I believe it’s time for the father and daughter dance,” he says. I let him take Sofia’s hand, keeping my eyes on her even as he leads her further away.
A hand claps my shoulder, pulling my focus away from my bride and her father. I’m met with the grinning faces of my groomsmen. My three brothers: Antonio, Dante, and Lorenzo, along with my best friend, turned stepbrother, Nicolo.
“Congratulations,fratello,” Antonio says, slapping my shoulder with a wide grin. “You got yourself a good one. Maybe I should ask you to find me someone, too.”
"As if any woman would want to marry your ugly mug," Dante teases him, earning him a glare from Antonio.
“You’re one to talk,” Antonio retorts before turning to me. “Now that you’ve fulfilled Dad’s condition. It’s only a matter of time before he retires and you become don.”
“How about we shelve the shop talk for another time,” Nicolo cuts in, reminding my brothers with a quick nod thatwe’re not exactly in a place where we can openly talk about family business. “Besides, today is all about Matteo and his beautiful bride.”
Before I can respond, a voice cuts in from behind. “Your brother is right, Matteo. Today is about you and Sofia.” I turn around to find my father approaching with his wife, Estella. I've always found it odd that my stepmother shares certain qualities with my late mother. A part of me has wondered if that’s why he married again twenty years after losing his first wife. Seeing an echo of the love of his life in another woman.
Nicolo walks toward Estella and greets her with a kiss on the cheek. There lies another oddity in our family. I never thought that my best friend and right hand would become my stepbrother. Marriage joins yet another family together. But where my father’s first marriage was arranged by his own father, this one was for love from the beginning.
I watch Estella whisper something to Nicolo and discreetly point to a table on the left. I follow their eyes to my other stepbrother, Bruno. He’s staring darkly into a glass of whiskey and clearly unnerving the other guests at his table. He must notice our attention on him because he lifts his glass in a toast with a grim smile that makes me wonder what the fuck is going on with him. Nicolo nods at whatever instructions his mother gives him and, with a last look at my other brothers, makes his way to Bruno. Estella excuses herself as well, followed by my brothers, leaving my father and me standing alone on the dance floor.
