"What do you enjoy doing?"
"I used to enjoy drawing."
"But you don't anymore?"
I shake my head reluctantly. "My papa didn't think I should carry on with it."
"Well, you can draw all you want once we get married," Vitto tells me with a generous smile. It's a way to appease me, and it should, but all it does is make me want to scream. I don't want his small mercies. I just want my freedom. To run away from him and never hear the Donati family name ever again. "I promise you, I will be a good husband. I'm delighted your parents picked me as your groom. And I believe we can make each other very happy. Don't you think so, Marzia?"
I nod even though I don't feel that way at all. I don't think I will ever be happy. It seems like that emotion is just out of reach for me - dangling right before my eyes, but never close enough for me to grab it and hold on to it.
"I was wondering," Vitto goes on. "I know this may be presumptuous of me and we have only just seen each other after years and years apart, but..."
I raise my eyes to his, and he takes it as an invitation to raise his hand, cupping my left cheek. I let out a gasp. No man has ever touched me like this before, except for papa. And I'm sure he wouldn't approve of this blatant display of affection. If Vitto weren't a Donati, he'd have his hand cut off for this.
"What are you doing?" I whisper, afraid of his answer. I hate admitting it, but his closeness repulses me. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want his hands on me. My eyes fill with unspilled tears and I hate myself for being such a child. But I can't bear this. My whole body vibrates with one wish only - for Vitto Donati to take his hands off me.
"Just getting a better look at you," he mutters. "You are so beautiful, Marzia..."
He sweeps his fingers over my cheek and I fight the urge to ask him to stop. He notices my discomfort and it makes him smile. He probably thinks I'm just shy. But that's not the case. I'd be more than eager for an interaction with Adrian Bernardi, but not Vitto.
"So innocent," he goes on. "Tell me, do you still remember that day in the docks?"
"How could I forget?" I mutter, still avoiding his gaze.
"Oh, I made an impression?" He winks at me and I groan inwardly. I need to pick my words better or else Vitto's going to think I've had a crush on him since I was seven years old, even though that couldn't be farther from the truth. "You liked me for a long time, then."
I remain quiet, avoiding answering his question as I hopefully glance toward the doors. "We should get to the party... Everyone will be wondering where the guests of honor are."
"I don't want to leave yet," he says, sighing heavily. "But you're right. Your father was kind enough to let me have a few minutes with you, but we shouldn't push it. Not on the first day we met. After all, he needs to be confident in the knowledge he's giving away a virgin at the altar, right?"
His grey eyes sparkle mischievously and something turns in my stomach. I have a bad feeling about this. And as the night goes on, it only gets worse and worse.
5
Adrian
The masquerade party is in full swing by the time I arrive. Getting past the guards is easy - too easy. The security around here is lax. I'd never let people near Marzia like this. But it speaks to my favor, and as I slip some money into the guard's hands at the door, he guarantees he won't tell anyone the Bernardis are in attendance.
Marzia doesn't make an appearance until three hours into the party. It gives us time to infiltrate De Luca's home. I have guards and shooters peppered through the house, all watching for my sign or a hint of trouble. Marzia's parents will be cursing themselves for inviting me here. That is, if they live long enough to see what I'm about to do to their sweet, innocent daughter.
The moment Marzia enters the grand hall, the entire atmosphere in the place changes. I feel her presence like a cold burn to my very soul, and my eyes search the room to find her. I'm not the only one who feels this change of pace, and it pisses me off to no end. There's applause and whistling as Marzia and her groom-to-be appear at the top of the double marble staircase leading into the grand hall. She's wearing a glittery pink dress that snatches her waist into a wasp-shape. Her tits are pressed up against one another, straining against the corset, and she's still tiny, despite wearing high ivory heels.
She's just as I'd imagined her. The little girl from those docks is all grown up and more irresistible than ever. Her hair is still the same shade of chocolate brown, her eyes a glittering shade of blue. Her skin is lightly tanned and olive-toned, and her body is thin, almost to the point of being frail. She looks... breakable. And that excites me.
Vitto Doneti stands behind her, a picture of masculinity. He's a head taller than her, his broad shoulders the perfect backdrop to Marzia's innocent posture. She's like a porcelain doll and he's the picture-perfect soldier toy ready to protect her at all costs.
My teeth grit together, my hands tightening into fists. I fucking hate seeing them together. The desire to rip them apart blooms inside me, making me mouth her name just so I remember the feel of it on my lips. Soon it won't be me saying her name. She'll be shouting mine as I bury myself in her silky depths.
The happy couple makes their way down the stairs, and I'm watching closely. My eyes follow them, glued to Marzia, eager for more of her sweet innocence. Donati reaches for her hand, but she pretends not to have noticed, making me smirk. She doesn't want his attention, which pleases me. I want her to turn him down. I want him fucking hurting because he wants her so much and she lusts for someone else. Me.
I can't take my eyes off her. The crowd parts, allowing them to pass through to the center of the room. Someone starts clinking their glass and then everyone does it. My fingernails dig into my palms. Like fuck am I going to watch them kissing right now.
I walk over to a tower of champagne glasses and bump into a woman standing next to it, blending into the crowd a second after she stumbles into the glass. It all comes crashing down, followed by gasps and cries. I smirk to myself. Mission fucking accomplished.
Soon enough, the crowd begins mingling again. I soon notice a guard trailing Marzia - it seems as if he's in charge, so I'll have to get rid of him first if I want a taste of Vitto's sweet virginal bride. She's like a magnet, pulling me in close with each second that passes, enticing me to come closer and closer. She won't recognize me, not with my mask in place. But I like to think her eyes are searching for me in the crowd, desperately seeking the man she should not want.
I know just how to get Marzia's attention, but first I need to create a distraction to make her guard take his eyes off my prize for the few seconds I need. I motion to one of my guys in the crowd and he gives a curt nod, sending a girl forward.
She's stunning - blonde, tall and willowy, and not my type at all. The girl approaches the guard who does his best to avoid her sensual words and the way she trails her fingers down his lapels, but he fails fucking miserably. Just like I knew he would.
It doesn't take long for the blonde to seduce the guard. It's all I need to slip closer. Meanwhile, Vitto is embroiled in a conversation with some business partner or other, and Marzia is standing to the side, looking abandoned. This is my cue.