Lou’s forehead wrinkles, and Anthony doesn’t look sold on the idea. “Maybe?”
“Not maybe. Definitely.” This is the way to keep her a Rossi, to make her my wife. Hell, she may already be carrying my child. Damn, why does the thought of Alessa holding our baby in her arms give me so many feelings? I can’t hold back my smile.
Lou and Anthony exchange yet another look, then Anthony shrugs. “Man, you look giddy. I like it. Not all brooding like usual. I’m in. If she makes you happy, then let’s do it.”
“Me too. I always like some family drama, maybe a little war, bloodshed, shit like that.” Lou grins. “Now you’re going to pick me as your best man, right?”
Anthony glares at him. “Fuck you, Lou.”
For the first time, I see a way through this. A way that keeps Alessa safe and by my side. Now I only have to sell the plan to the most powerful, most feared, and most long-lived mob boss in this city, maybe even this part of the country... my father.
10
Alessa
“It’s not right,” I huff. Tears sting my eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. What the heck is wrong with me? I’m never one to focus much on what I wear, but today is different. It’s not that I can’t pick something, it’s that nothing feels right because I’m not choosing it to walk down the aisle toward Torino.
“Then we’ll keep looking, honey. It will be fine. We’ll find something eventually.” Mom comes to stand behind me. “But you’re right. This dress isn’t you either.”
Her eyes meet mine in the giant mirror in front of us. I can see the salespeople scurrying around behind us trying to find me something else to try on. They probably think I’m a brat. I hate being rude.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You only get one wedding. Well, unless he kicks the bucket.” She smirks.
There was no love lost when my father died. If anything, I was happy. The way he treated my mom made me hate him. But I knew to keep my mouth shut because opening it would have only made things worse for her.
For the first time I wonder if she did something to help him kick that bucket... Which in turn makes me think if I could do the same thing with Finnegan. He could die on our wedding night. No one would ever suspect me. My own thoughts actually surprise me, but I’ll do what I have to do in order to be with Torino.
The girls have me try on a few more dresses, but they don’t work either. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m looking for. But if I want this to end, I'll have to pretend in my head I’m not planning my wedding with Finnegan but with Torino.
I decide that’s the only way I’m going to get through this. It’ll make it a bit more fun if I picture doing all this for him. That way I’ll be able to enjoy the wedding planning, trusting that Torino will come through with his vow to me.
“You know I wasn't sure how pink on pink would look, but really it’s perfect.” Mom shows me a picture on her phone that the wedding planner sent over for the table settings. We’re in the back of the limo headed home. It’s an explosion of pink, but she’s right, it fits.
“I think my groom can pull off pink.” The men will be in all gray suits with pink ties. I have no doubt that Torino’s men can make pink masculine.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Mom says, responding to the email.
No, Finnegan couldn’t pull it off. He’s a pussy, though. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at myself. I’ve been hanging out with Torino too much because I’m now calling Finnegan a pussy, too.
I gaze out the window, my mind going back to Torino. The past few weeks have been more than I could have ever expected from him. He wants me. The man can’t keep his hands off me. Even the nights he comes home late, he still slips into my bed and wakes me with his mouth between my thighs.
It’s a crazy change from how he used to be. I mean, before I could barely get him to stay in a room with me for more than a few minutes. He made sure to always keep some space between us but still had this way of hovering over me. I don’t know how he pulled that off, but he did. Now I wonder how long Torino might have wanted me. Is that why he’s always been so protective?
When I think back, I’m starting to think some of his outbursts about me weren't from being overprotective but from him being jealous. The thought makes me giddy on the inside. God knows I’ve had my jealous moments over him. Especially those nights he’s come home late. It’s so ingrained in me not to ask questions about what the men might be up to and to trust that they will share what they see fit. With my real father it made me feel beneath him, but with the Rossi men it’s different. They do it to protect us.
My phone vibrates in my purse. I pull it out to check it. My chest warms when I see it’s a text from Torino. It’s been fun sneaking around. As much as I want everyone to know about us, it’s nice having this special secret between us. I know it can’t last long, but I’m going to treasure it for now.
Torino: Get home. I need you.
His text is straight and to the point. I clench my thighs together, knowing what he needs. A small part of me fears this is only about sex. I can’t put that all on him, though. I’m jumping him the second we are alone. I can’t seem to get enough of him.
I don’t know about sex for other people, but I feel so close to Torino when he makes love to me. I’ve never had a connection like this with anyone else. And I never want to have it with anyone but him. I bite my lip, wondering if he’s had it with someone in the past.
I don’t respond to his text. Partly because I know it will work him up, and because I’m being petty about my own inner thoughts. My mood is all over the place lately.
“After your wedding, it might be time to find your brother a bride.”
My heart drops at my mom's off-handed comment. She is too preoccupied typing away on her phone to see my reaction.
“Stepbrother,” I tell her. She lifts her head. I’ve never corrected her before on it, but I can’t help but do it now.
“Stepbrother,” she agrees, her eyes staying locked with mine. I don’t break the stare. This moment is important. I never want to challenge my mom, but this is different. I can feel it, like a charge in the air.
“Okay.” She smiles.
I swear I see approval in her eyes, or maybe that’s just a foolish idea. Not as foolish as her trying to find a woman for Torino, though. If that happened, Finnegan won’t be the only one I’ll think about offing.
That’s not only meant for the intended bride either. By the time I’m done with Torino for agreeing to such a thing, the possibility for Rossi heirs would be dead in the water.
I smile to myself. Unless there’s already one inside of me.
11
Torino
Her big eyes watch me as she takes me to the back of her throat. When she gags a little, her mouth compresses around my cock, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from coming down her throat.
My hands tangled in her hair, I guide her along my shaft. She makes wet noises, her lips swollen as my fat head slips between them and slides along her tongue.