No. I’d taken the knife and she didn’t flinch.
“What are you up to?” I poked her again in vain. “Okay. You brought it on yourself.” I went too far and touched her mouth with mine. Not a blink, and her lips were cold.
Merda. She wasn’t faking it, and I was kissing an unconscious woman. Now that was sick.
Marrying my sister-in-law, my twin’s wife, after offing him might have been much sicker to some, but not to me. Did that made me a psychopath? Probably. Who gave a shit? Not me. Bianca wasn’t my type, and I had no interest in her or her body, but she was taboo, and that made our thing…interesting. Even if I wouldn’t admit it to her.
But touching a girl who wasn’t sober was as sick as fucking a corpse. Fucked up—and again might be hot to some. I was in no position to kinkshame anyone. They didn’t call me Il Tagliatore because I was good in the kitchen—but not my kind of fucked up.
The door opened. Marta holding Mario, Vincenzo and the doctor waltzed in.
“Couldn’t wait for your bride to wake up?” Vincenzo mocked as I got my mouth off Bianca’s.
I licked my lips and smirked, but his expression and my mother’s said, “Cut the crap. You’re not fooling anyone.”
The doctor approached while Alfarez barked outside. Mamma told my uncle to get out and give Bianca some privacy. Then she gave me Mario and told me to handle the angry father.
My uncle exited, but I wasn’t planning on leaving the room or leaving Marta with my wife. Besides, I wanted to know what was wrong with her. Was it just nerves getting the best of her? Or was she sick or something?
I held Mario with a hand and the door with the other, and peeked at Alfarez between the two bodyguards. “I’ll let you in when the doctor is finished.”
Without waiting for a response, and ignoring Marta’s quizzical glance, I shut the door and took a seat.
Chapter 6
Bianca
Wake up, principessa.
“Cosimo.” I saw his face in the lifting darkness, fading away like a picture made of smoke. “No. Please don’t go.”
A dark, heavy weight yanked me out of the dream and hurled me back into reality. I blinked, slowly regaining awareness of where I was. Then I bolted upright as the memory of my fuckup flashed in my head. It was dark, but I could tell I was in the hotel suite, in bed. My hand rushed to my thigh only to find I was no longer in the wedding dress, and the garter was gone along with the knife.
“Looking for this?”
I gasped as yellow lights burst around me, revealing Enzio in a chair, still in his tux, his bowtie loose, holding Alfarez’s knife.
I swallowed. My first instinct was that my life could end now, but I wasn’t scared for myself. My life didn’t matter. Only my baby’s did. “Where’s Mario?”
His chin tilted to my left. “Sleeping in the cot.”
That was the first time I saw a baby cot in the suite. He must have brought it during the time I passed out. A wave of calmness washed over me as I saw Mario’s peaceful, deep in slumber face.
“He was hungry so Marta fed him some canned baby food, but he’s a little fussy. He’s hungry for your tits.”
A disgusting chill ran through me. The last thing I wanted to hear was Enzio dirty talking about…any part of my body.
He rose and walked toward me, playing with the knife. “He wouldn’t sleep outside this bedroom either.”
My fists clenched around the sheets, my body tensing with fear. “Babies smell their mommies. He misses me. Like you said before, the boy needs his mother.”
When he sat next to me, I held my breath. He smirked as he seemed to be savoring the fear sketching my face. I swallowed again. “How long have I been out?”
“Less than an hour. The doctor gave you something and said you’d be fine when you woke up.”
“Is the reception…canceled?”
He shook his head. “Everybody is downstairs having their fun, eating, drinking, dancing. We can still join if you like.”
