First was her beloved Cesare, once the unforgiving executioner of herfamiglia, but whose icy heart melted under the innocent warmth of his once-lost bride Penelope.
Next was her charming Massimo, whose wicked smile hid a cruel streak. But in Ysabella, he had met his match, and nearly losing her for good had made this grandson of hers a changed man.
Third was her precious Ezio, who, until now, was a mystery to many, and the same could be said with his wife, Cattleya, who once worked as Potenziana's most dutiful secretary.
Her only granddaughter, Gazelle, was the fourth to be presented, her quiet loveliness a perfect mask for her equally quiet resilience; she was the princess who had tamed the Beast of New York by not wanting to tame him at all.
And finally, it was her eldest grandchild's turn, and even Potenziana found it impossible to keep her voice from breaking as she introduced the two people whose wedding they were celebrating today.
"Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I present to you Giancarlo and Sarica..."
The newly married couple stepped out into view on another balcony, and the reaction from their audience was thunderous.
Sarica did her best to smile and wave likeLa Stregahad told her to do even as feelings of every kind threatened her composure. For so many years of her life, she had felt as if there was no place she could be safe, no person she could belong to.
But now, more than ever, she understood how all the things she had to suffer were part of His perfect plan, and even though there were times her hope and trust in Him had faltered—-
Thank You, God.
Not once did He leave her side.
He was always there for her and Giancarlo.
And always would be.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Giancarlo drew his wife close for a kiss. They waved one last time before retreating from view, and as soon as the balcony doors slid closed, Giancarlo wasted no time in reaching for the girl he had loved from the moment he laid his eyes on her.
They didn't even make it to the bed and didn't even manage to undress, with Giancarlo simply bending his wife over the console as he plunged into her from behind.
Sarica's head fell back at the first thrust. He was so, so deep inside of her, and the way he moved oh so slowly was driving her out of his mind.
"P-Please..."
She wanted him to move faster and harder.
She wanted him to...close the blinds!
Because was that an actualdroneoutside the balcony windows?
Giancarlo froze at his wife's sudden cry. "What's wrong?"
"Drone," Sarica gasped. "Outside! We forgot to—-"
Her cry of protest was short-lived, her embarrassment whooly forgotten as he began moving again, his hands tightening on her hips. Sarica wanted to argue, to push him away and close the blinds, but the pleasure coursing through her was too intense, too overwhelming to resist.
She could only cling to the edges of the console as her husband moved in a punishingly slow rhythm while his hands dipped inside her wedding dress to start playing with her nipples.
“Giancarlo,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. "P-Please."
"Beg for it."
A dark and possessive whisper, and the sound had Sarica writhing under him in uncontrollable need.
"P-Please..."
Her husband obliged with a chuckle, and even though his arrogance made her want to kick him—-
Aaaah.
