Aria’s lower lip trembled. “My mother would never do that. She won’t even talk to me about these things.”
I loved that Aria was only mine, but I wasn’t used to this level of inexperience. Only half-joking, I asked, “But you do know what happens between a man and a woman on a wedding night?” If I had to give her the sex talk, I’d have to fucking kill someone, or I’d seriously lose my shit.
“I do know what happens between normal couples. In our case, I think the word you’re looking for is rape.”
Fury burst through my body, making me want to lash out at anything and anyone. I’d gotten better at controlling myself over the years, but I still had to wait a moment before I was sure I wouldn’t snarl at her. “I want you to start taking the pill.” I handed her the packet the Doc had given me.
“Don’t I need to see a doctor before I start taking birth control?”
“We have a doctor who’s been working for the Famiglia for decades. This is from him. You need to start taking the pill immediately. It takes 48 hours for them to start working.”
“And what if I don’t?” she challenged. Anger was still simmering under my skin, but when wasn’t it? “Then I’ll use a condom. Either way, on our wedding night, you’re mine.” I opened the door. Aria staggered out. I hadn’t meant to terrify her, but she’d better get used to it. I wasn’t a kind man.
CHAPTER 5
Father sat with a self-righteous expression in the pew at the front as if this wedding was his ultimate triumph. I didn’t think a marriage to Aria would lead to indefinite peace with the Outfit. Maybe the euphoria of the union would carry us through a few more years, but that was it.
Matteo leaned closer when the string quartet and piano started to play, announcing Aria’s entry.
“Nervous? These are your last moments as a free man.”
I rolled my eyes at him. A marriage wouldn’t bind me the same way it would bind Aria. And free? That’s not something I’d ever been. From birth, I’d been bound to the Famiglia, and that wouldn’t change until my death. The Famiglia was the only thing that mattered in my life.
Matteo let out a low whistle and I followed his gaze toward the back.
Aria stood at the end of the aisle, white and golden. My eyes drank in every inch of her body, but a veil covered her face. My stomach did tighten for only a moment before I reined myself in.
When she and her father arrived in the front, he finally lifted her veil and, for the briefest moment, before Aria could mask it, I could see utter fear in her eyes. Damn it. Damn them all for forcing her into a marriage with me. But most of all, damn myself, because nothing in the world would have stopped me from making her mine, not anymore, not ever.
I held out my hand and Scuderi gave her to me with almost the same self-righteous smile my father wore on his face. Aria didn’t look at me. She was fighting for composure. Her hand was cold in mine, and a tremor went through her body.
I wasn’t sure what she expected of me.
The priest in his white frock greeted us, then the guests, before he began his opening prayer. It was tradition to get the church’s blessing, but I didn’t believe in a god. I doubted we’d all be here if there was one.
“Luca and Aria,” the priest addressed us. “Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage? Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”
Love. As if this marriage was about love. I didn’t love anyone and never would. Love was a weakness. Aria’s hand stiffened, and I wondered if she was stupid enough to hope for something like that. I would treat her with respect and perhaps even come to tolerate her as a partner, but love her? I almost laughed. The Famiglia, that was the only love I had. “Yes,” I said, because it was expected. Aria’s own yes held no hesitation.
The priest nodded, satisfied. “Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and his Church.”
I took Aria’s hands in mine and turned toward her. For the first time since she’d lifted the veil, she met my eyes. Her face didn’t betray anything, but her eyes couldn’t hide her emotions. Fear. Despair. Hopelessness.
Anger filled my bones. “I, Luca Vitiello, take you, Aria Scuderi, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”
I tried to ignore her shaking when I slipped the ring on her finger. “Aria, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
She was mine now.
It was Aria’s turn to put the ring on my finger, but she was trembling too fucking much. I steadied her hand. People didn’t need to see how terrified she was of me. Matteo with his fucking hawk-eyes noticed, of course, and gave me a smirk. I wouldn’t hear the end of it.
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said.
Aria’s head shot up. She stiffened further and her eyes held trepidation and embarrassment. Fuck. I squeezed her hands. I wasn’t even sure why.
I hated to share this moment with all the fuckers in the room. I’d kissed so many women, fucked just as many, but this first taste of my wife…that wasn’t something I wanted to share. I knew Aria would have preferred more privacy—of course she would, this was her first kiss.
Her first fucking kiss.
I leaned down and brushed my lips over hers. It was nothing. More air than touch. Not worth a second thought, but damn, my body sprang to life anyway. Aria was mine.
A blush spread on her cheeks, and it took every ounce of self-control not to throw her over my shoulder and carry her up to our room right away. I couldn’t wait to have her naked body under me, to bury my cock in her. As if she could read my mind, Aria shuddered violently, and my lust evaporated.
I didn’t want to consider the possibility that she might react the same way to my touch tonight. Fuck.
I took her hand and led her down the aisle. The men of the family gave me nods as they clapped. A waiter headed our way at once, balancing a tray with champagne glasses on his palm. I took one for my and one for Aria, handing it to her.
Aria clutched the glass in her delicate fingers but didn’t react otherwise, not even looking my way. Soon our guests crowded around us to offer us their blessings. It was a necessary tradition we couldn’t avoid, even when all I wanted was to fast-forward to my first night with my wife.
Aria’s gaze was distant, her lips a thin line in her pale face. I dipped my head down to her. “Smile. You’re the happy bride, remember?”
As if a switch had been turned, Aria’s face became a mask of happiness, all fake. I took a sip of the champagne, stifling my frustration over her apparent unhappiness. This marriage hadn’t been my idea. I wouldn’t have married at all. My life was devoted to the Famiglia, and a woman had no place in it.
The first guests appeared before us, my father and Nina. She stood a step behind him as he expected.
My father put a hand on my shoulder. He was my height, the only man at the party who was, and his eyes met mine. Gray eyes and dark hair like me. But that was the extent of our similarities, if you disregarded our streak of cruelty. “Luca, my eldest,” he said in a booming voice, drawing the attention of the surrounding guests to us. “Today marks a special day for you and the Famiglia.”