I’m marrying a man who’s so gorgeous it needs to be listed with his other sins. The bastard has the look of a killer meets Superman. Technically we’ve never met in person, but we’ve had two close encounters—and one lives so vividly in my head.
Given our family connections and the business they’re in, I should have met him more often than that, but I’ve been locked away since I grew tits and one of my classmates noticed. It happened shortly after my favorite almost meeting with Domani Bianchi. Trying to make a move on me, a classmate, Franco found out the hard way that you don’t fuck with a mafia princess. He only got his broken arm as a warning to stay far away. He’s lucky it was only that, because my family can be crazy, deadly crazy. He’s even luckier that I don’t have an older brother. Those motherfuckers in our world are bananas when it comes to their little sisters.
Still, the Bianchis are much worse than that. They run this city and don’t hesitate to kill anyone who crosses them. There are other families in the Chicago area, but there’s no mistaking who’s the true boss. Even my father defers to him. I’ve heard tail ends of calls that prove how dangerous my future husband can be.
Domani Bianchi’s the head of the family now that his father has retired, and now that the dark prince has become king, he’s looking for his queen.
From what my mother told me, my dad presented photos to Domani with the mention of my innocence, and the family decided on our marriage. I’m to be his queen in two days here in our family home in front of two hundred strangers from other mafia families. There are four families, but there has been a truce so they will all attend. I’ve asked to be let out of the marriage, but to no avail. I don’t want to be stuck in a loveless marriage. I’ve already barely seen much of the outside world, and I’m going to miss out, marrying the most ruthless son of a bitch around. Although I wasn’t exactly locked away, I became homeschooled and hardly ever spent time with friends over the past two years, so much so that most don’t even bother to text me anymore. I’ve become an outcast when I was the most popular girl. It wasn’t the popularity, but rather the loss of having something to look forward to.
Tonight, I’m to meet my husband-to-be at a dinner hosted at his home, where I’ll be given a tour of my future residence and all the glorious elegance inside. I rolled my eyes at the way my mother described their home. Shouldn’t I have seen it first?
I stare around my insanely massive bedroom, knowing we have an amazing mansion as well. If that’s their selling point, it’s not a good one. Been there done that kind of thing. Although my room has seen better days. Most of my room has been packed up with boxes lining the walls, signaling my fate is nearly here. I do my best to stay headstrong and resist, but I know my efforts are futile.
My hands are shaking as I brush my hair, avoiding my sister’s glare through my large vanity mirror. “Don’t you have a family that needs tending to?”
“Don’t be a jerk. You’re my sister and my family as well. Besides, my husband is getting them ready for bed.” I look at my watch. It’s a little early for bed, but they have a whole routine that they do no matter where they travel and because her husband is from Ireland, they travel a great deal.
Still, my nerves are on edge, and I wish she’d leave me alone. There’s so much that this man could do to me; not only can he physically hurt me if he wants to, but emotionally too. I’m afraid of the butterflies I get in my stomach when I see pictures of him. He’s a thousand times more potent when he’s near, and in the two years since our last encounter, I can still feel his eyes on me. It’s painful the way my body wants to gravitate toward him that elevates my shitty mood. I’m going to be the lovesick puppy while he has whores at his beck and call whenever he deems me not enough.
“Just give him a chance. He’s handsome, wealthy, and powerful. Isn’t that enough for now? You two haven’t even met. What if you both fall in love?”
Scoffing, I stand up and walk over to my bed where she’s sitting and plop down beside her, giving her a downward stare. “I highly doubt that. The man will probably make me sick with his affairs.”
There’s a knock at my bedroom door. “Girls, it’s time to go,” my papa says.
“We need a few more minutes, Papa,” Gloria shouts.
“So unladylike,” I whisper with a smirk. She nudges me and sticks out her tongue, proving my point again.
We both hold back a laugh as my father adds, “Domani won’t like to be kept waiting.” I roll my eyes because I don’t give a shit if he doesn’t like something. My father’s so anxious to hand over the reins of the Grasso family to Domani that he’s trying to appease the handsome thug.
“Pity. He’ll have to get used to it,” I hiss under my breath.
Gloria signs the cross over her chest, kissing the cross she wears. “Heaven help him. He’s got his hands full with you.”
“Damn right.” A deep growl comes from my bedroom door that flies open. I gasp and stare. Domani Bianchi is standing there in my doorway in an all-black suit with a deep blood-red tie, as if he knew I’d be wearing the same red tonight.
“Please leave us,” Domani Bianchi orders my sister. His tone is firm, yet not cruel. She doesn’t miss a beat and scurries out of the room. “Careful, you’re with child, Signora Delaney.” She slows down and walks out, closing the door behind her with a smirk on her face, sticking her tongue out at me one more time for good measure.
“Aria.” I jerk my eyes away from my bedroom door to his face. The sound of my name off his lips is smooth and rushes over my skin, making my every nerve tingle.
“Yes, that’s my name,” I inform him with an air of indifference even though my heart’s thumping against my breastbone.
He arches his right brow, rakes his gaze over me from head to toe, and then remarks with an upturned lip, “It looks like you have no intention of coming tonight.” Immediately, I understand he’s not talking about his house, but rather, my body. My already heated flesh reddens with lust, and I need more of his sultry voice.
“Oh, I plan to come,” I hiss, leaving the sexual innuendo in the air like blood in the water for a dangerous predator. He crosses the distance, leaning over me as I sit on the edge of my bed, and shakes his head. “Just not with you.”
“Aria, you won’t be coming at all if you keep this up,” Domani warns me, inching alarmingly close that I can feel the heat of his body across my skin.
Needing to defuse my body’s natural reaction to his magnetism, I clap my hands together excitedly and give him my thousand-watt smile. “Ooh. Does that mean we’re not getting married?”
He slides his strong hand down my cheek, feathering his fingers over my throat, and continues to move them down my body. “Oh, we’re getting married.” Domani’s touch is gentle as he loosens the tie on my robe, revealing my bra and panties to his gaze. His eyes return to me, and there’s nothing but lust and determination in them. Can he tell that between my clenched thighs the material is drenched?
Gripping my thighs, he nudges them open and then cups my pussy. His other hand thrusts into my hair, tugging my head back as he leans over me, staring into my eyes. “It’s not wise to tease a man on edge, cara mia.” His mouth brushes against mine. “Are you going to be a good girl and get dressed?”