"Get ready to pay up." He stood and headed to the door. "I'll send your mommy in." I could hear his laughter in the hallway.
Leaving the quiet confines of my room, my tie draped around my neck, I went looking for my mother. I could hear commotion from the den, and I found my family having a party. "There he is, the most handsome groom on the planet."
"How much have you had to drink, Mom?" I asked as she grabbed my tie. A flash blinded me momentarily, and I stiffened.
"Relax, it's the photographer. I should have told you I hired one. Smile dear, you don't want to look like you're walking to your own funeral in your wedding pictures." She smiled up at me as another flash went off.
"True words, mother, and yes, it would have been beneficial. I was ready to reach for my gun." My words flat and mostly just to get a reaction out of her.
She slapped at my chest, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Honey, you aren't carrying on your wedding day."
"Mom, today of all days, you can bet your ass I am. I don't trust all these families in the same room for one second." Her quiet sigh was more than enough confirmation that she knew I was right. That she'd been thinking the same thing. "Let's get this over with."
I walked out of the room, followed by the rest of my immediate family. My mother took my arm, and Trixie took Lorenzo's, and we walked down the aisle. The women in my family had transformed the ballroom from a bland room to something that looked like a flower shop threw up.
Red rose petals lined the aisle, and bouquets sat or hung from every possible spot in the room. The only light in the room was what looked like a million candles burning. The flames flickered, casting dancing shadows that made the space feel almost ritualistic. So not only was there a chance a war would break out between the families, but she was also trying to burn my house down.
Looking up, I caught the eye of Emilia's mother, and if she could have killed me with her glare, I'd truly be at my own funeral instead of a wedding. The hatred in her eyes was palpable, visceral. She would be just as much of a problem as her husband.
The music changed, and I looked up to the opposite end of the room. She stepped through the doorway, and all thoughts disappeared from my mind. Emilia was gliding toward me in a dress that shimmered like the stars in the sky. If I thought last night's dress was a distraction, this was a million times better.The bodice hugged her torso, and her perfect tits were on display in the strapless gown.
It seemed like years and seconds all at the same time until she was standing next to me. I let my eyes trail over her body, and all breath escapes me. "Who gives this woman to this man?" The officiant said, startling me out of the haze I was in.
"I do." Her father said without looking at me. Now, let's talk about a person who looks like they were at their own funeral. He was dressed in all black, and I was pretty sure the man didn't know how to smile. I could hear him grinding his teeth. Vincent didn't kiss his daughter's cheek or even give her a second glance as he walked away from her. That fucker, I should kill him right where he sits. He's the one who forced her hand to take over his family, and then signed her life over to me; he didn't get to pretend he hated this idea.
"Take one another's hands, please." Emilia looked from the officiant to me, and Trixie reached out for the bouquet. Hesitantly, she took my hands, and we looked at one another before she let her gaze fall to the floor. Her hands were trembling. "We have gathered here today to join Niccolò and Emilia in matrimony. Marriage isn't something to be entered into lightly; it's more than just a contract between two people." Emilia's eyebrow raised quickly before she lowered it, and I squeezed her hands. "It takes two people committed to one another, two people to share in life's hardships and rely on their love to see them through." Murmurs went through the crowd, skeptical and knowing. I turned and looked over the attendees, and they fell silent instantly. The silence was absolute, oppressive.
"Emilia, do you take Niccolò as your husband?"
"I do." I had expected her voice to be soft, but those two words were spoken with so much confidence, I wondered who she was trying to fool—herself or me.
"Niccolò, do you take Emilia to be your wife?"
Looking in her eyes, I spoke the same two words she had just said. They felt like a vow and a threat all at once.
"Emilia, repeat after me. I, Emilia Carminatti, promise to love, honor, cherish, obey, and vow my loyalty until death do us part." The man looked at her and waited.
"I, Emilia Carminatti, promise to love, honor, cherish, and vow my loyalty until death do us part." Her smirk and death stare were letting me know that obedience wasn't on the table.
"You forgot to obey." He whispered.
"Move along," I said quietly, and he looked at me with surprise all over his face. Fear, too.
"Niccolò, repeat after me. I, Niccolò Venosa, promise to love, honor, cherish, and obey until death do us part." Not one person was breathing in the room; I could feel it. The tension was thick enough to choke on. They were all wondering what I was going to say. Wondering if I'd assert dominance or give ground.
"I, Niccolò Venosa, promise to love, honor, cherish, and obey until death do us part." Emilia's eyes were as round as frying pans, and her hands started to shake.
"Is there anyone in attendance who has a valid reason why these two should not seal the vows they have just spoken?" People shifted in their seats, and my men stood straighter as they observed the room. Hands moved closer to concealed weapons. The moment stretched, dangerous. "I am pleased to pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Niccolò Venosa. Kiss your bride."
Emilia stood welded to the spot on the floor, so I took a step toward her. Lowering down, I kept hold of her hands and pressed my mouth to hers. Her lips were as soft as I'd remembered from last night, but something was different. There was a hesitancy, and she wasn't returning my kiss like she had last night. Letting her hand go, I roughly pulled her to me, and the jolt awoke her, and she kissed me as she meant it. I felt herheart thundering against my chest, and the quiet sigh she let escape made me kiss her harder.
As she leaned into me, our guests stood and clapped. The mood changed, and everyone was ready for a party. Pulling away from me, Emilia looked up at me, and I smiled. "Hello, wife." Her nervous smile returned, and we walked up the aisle arm in arm.
Standing in the foyer, we greeted our guests and waited for them to filter through to the dining room for cocktails and appetizers. The procession felt endless, each handshake a potential threat. "You look beautiful," I whispered during a lull in the flow of people.
Her appreciative look made me wonder whether no one had mentioned it to her. I watched her speak to people and couldn't get over the heavy makeup someone had used on her. She didn't need it, and if I had anything to say about it, she wouldn't be wearing it again. The mask obscured her, hid the woman I'd seen in that warehouse.
Being pulled in five different directions was growing tiresome. "I'm done. Emilia, please come with me." I was tired of having people around, and I needed my wife. I watched her grab the massive skirt, and I motioned for her to go upstairs.
