“The priest is on his way. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes. We need to get you ready for the ceremony,” she said matter-of-factly.
My eyes widened. “So soon?”
Mother nodded. “The Vitiellos want to return to New York as soon as possible, which is probably for the best.”
I rose from the bed, then slowly walked toward Mother. “Father will be glad to see me gone.”
‘What about you?’ I wanted to ask but didn’t dare to.
Mother lifted her hand and brushed my cheek for the barest moment before taking a step back. “You shouldn’t have run. You ruined your reputation.”
“I don’t care about my reputation.”
“But you should.” She turned to my wardrobe and opened it. “Now let’s see if there’s a dress you can wear for the ceremony. Of course I wish I could have seen you walk down the aisle in a beautiful white wedding dress.” She sighed. Was she trying to make me feel guilty? Because it was working.
Aria moved to my side and squeezed my shoulder before helping Mother look for a dress. Eventually she chose a backless crème-colored floor-length fitting gown that I’d worn for New Years. Aria helped me with my make-up, though it didn’t hide my fat lip.
“I’ll see if the priest has arrived,” Mother said, before hesitating in the doorway with a wistful expression. She opened her mouth but then turned and closed the door.
I tried not to take it to heart. I’d known my parents and most of the people in my world would condemn me for what I’d done, so why was it hurting so much?
“Do you think Lily and Fabi will be allowed to watch the ceremony?” I asked in a embarrassingly hopeful voice.
“Let me talk to Father. I’m sure I can convince him,” Aria said.
I didn’t protest as she walked out. If someone could convince Father, then it was Aria. I faced the mirror. My eyes were sad and tired. I didn’t look like the blushing happy bride. Not that anyone expected me to. This wasn’t even a real wedding. Despite my best intentions, regret gripped me once again. How could my life have become such a mess? All I’d ever wanted was to be free to make my own decisions. Maybe I would have married Matteo if he’d ever bothered to ask me instead of ordering me to do it. And now I wouldn’t ever get a real wedding or a beautiful dress. I’d always thought I didn’t care about these things but now that they were lost to me I felt saddened.
Aria returned. “It’s time. The priest is waiting in the living room. Fabi and Lily are there too.”
I mustered a smile. “Then let’s get married.”
MATTEO
Even without a wedding gown, Gianna was a fucking sight to behold. The dress hugged her curves; curves I’d take my time exploring when we were back in New York. I couldn’t wait to lay claim to every inch of her body. I’d make her forget everything that was before me.
Gianna met my gaze as if she knew what I was thinking. And I really didn’t bother to hide my want for her. I’d fuck her tonight, no matter how tired and jet-lagged I was. I’d waited too long for this. Gianna stopped beside me and I took her hand. The priest was looking down his nose at her. I couldn’t wait to leave Chicago behind. Not that people in New York would look upon Gianna more kindly, but at least they were too scared of me to show their disdain openly.
Gianna’s hand was cold in mine and she avoided my eyes as the priest spoke the wedding vows. When it was her turn to say ‘I do’ I half expected her to say ‘no’ and I really wasn’t sure what I would have done then but she didn’t. Gianna was a clever girl; she’d hide her hatred for our bond until she was a safe distance away from Chicago and her bastard of a father.
When it was finally time to slip on the wedding ring, she actually shivered. Somehow that annoyed the crap out of me. She should be grateful I wanted her as much as I did. Her stupid actions could have cost her everything. She could at least pretend to be grateful.
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest intoned.
I didn’t hesitate. I cupped her face and pressed my lips against hers. Gianna stiffened, making my blood boil even more. When I pulled back, she met my gaze head-on. She was really intent on provoking me. If she liked to play with fire, fine. I didn’t mind getting burned. I’d walk through flames for her.
***
Less than sixty minutes later we were back in the air on our way to New York. My body was humming with desire as I watched Gianna in her sexy dress. She and Aria huddled together in the last row on the plane.
Luca sank down beside me and handed me a glass of Scotch. I swallowed it in one gulp. “An espresso would be better. I need to be awake.”
Luca followed my gaze toward the girls. “You intend to have your wedding night once you’re home.”
“Damn right.”
“From what I know about Gianna, she probably won’t make it easy for you. What are you going to do if she fights you?”
I hadn’t considered that. In every fantasy I’d had about Gianna, she’d been a willing participant. I wanted her to scream my name in pleasure, wanted to make her wet. Would she really refuse me? “She won’t,” I said with more conviction than I felt.
Luca’s eyes were practically x-raying me. “Nobody would blame you if you took what you wanted against her will. It’s not like she hasn’t already done the deed.”
My hands curled to fists but instead of following my first impulse and punch Luca, I counted to ten in my mind. Luca often said things like that to gauge someone’s reaction. I didn’t think he was being serious. Maybe before Aria I would have doubted him more.