Chapter 2

Two

Romeo – Age Twenty-Six

"What kind of woman wears a long white dress to her own sister's wedding?" Leonardo asks, leaning around Antonio to speak to me.

I shake my head as I straighten my bow tie, my eyes scanning the guests to ensure there's no threat, despite the hundreds of men we have surrounding the church.

Antonio snorts, answering, "A whore who wants someone she can't have while trying to play the victim."

I hum in agreement, my eyes going to the bitch. Liliya is sitting front and center, looking more like a bride than the bride's sister. Her hair is curled around her face, which is covered in so much makeup, you don't even know where her fucking skin is, and then there's the jewelry fit for a bride, right down to the black diamond choker, a replica of the one I bought Elena two years ago.

Fuck, she even has a tiara on, and Antonio's wife has been glaring daggers at her since she arrived, knowing exactly what Liliya's doing.

The woman may hate my brother but abide’s by the girl code, and my soon to be sister-in-law hopes to take her sister's place.

She hopes Elena will run, but I know she won't, and so do my brothers. Her school means everything to her; it's her way of living a normal life, and as promised, I'm allowing her to continue it after we wed.

I need all the ammo I can get so she actually wants to spend time with me. So far, in the past two years, she's been forced to even be in the same room with me. She never makes eye contact or speaks to me, all while Liliya hangs off my fucking arm.

"Does Elena know her sister is dressed like that?" Leonardo asks curiously, and I look at him to see that even he's staring daggers at Liliya, but that's expected.

My little brother loves Elena like a sister. At most parties she's forced to attend by my side, he becomes her protector, even from her sister. Fuck, he's even helped her with her tests at school.

I'd be jealous if I didn't know he fucks a nurse on the regular, trying to punish some girl at the college my soon-to-be wife attends, who wants nothing to do with him.

It's also how I knew a professor tried to corner Elena after hours and frightened her. The girl confided in my brother after she saw Elena knee his balls before running out of the room with tears in her eyes, worried for her and the repercussions, knowing that certain professor would have her charged for assault.

Safe to say, the fucker is now six feet under, after he squealed and admitted to threatening her grades if she didn't suck him off like her sister did.

I go to speak, but Antonio opens his mouth and states, "Right now, that shouldn't be his biggest problem. My fucking wife walked down the aisle in a black dress; he needs to hope and pray Elena doesn't do that." I raise a brow, and he shrugs. "I saw the way she was grinning at Maya when she was dragged down the aisle toward me, she may have been given some ideas."

I smirk, looking out at the guests again, before side-eyeing him. We both know Elena won't wear black. That first day in her father's office, she was fiery, yes, but she’d been given a massive fucking shock, and since then, she has calmed down. Her main focus has been on school.

It's how her father has managed to keep control of her, but only succeeded in pushing her away further.

Antonio's eyes go to his wife, and he narrows them, and mumbles, "The bitch cut holes in all my fucking pants last night. I don't know what her problem is."

I grin. The fucker has been married for two months, and so far, it's not going very well for them.

"You fucked a stripper the night you got married," I remind him.

He shrugs, not at all fazed by his infidelity, and replies, "And? She made it clear, a week after our wedding, that she fucks around, so why not. She hates me, and I hate her. Our marriage is one made in hell. Let's just hope you have a better one, brother."

I sigh as I look toward his wife whose head is down, looking at her wedding ring with sorrow.

" Fratello , you're an idiot.” I look his way. “Your marriage is fucked because she sat in the tub all night, listening to you fuck some whore."

His eyes widen, and I shrug one shoulder. "Turns out women talk. Maya told her aunt, who told her mother, who told our mother, who called our father. After being questioned so much over the past few months as to why she hasn't made an effort with you, she mentioned what you did and how she stayed in the bathroom until you both passed out. She told you she's fucking around to punish you, fratello ."

He groans, mumbling, "Ah, fucking shit," making me chuckle.

I state, "You have a lot of work on your hands, Antonio, because through the women’s grapevine, Maya is looking for a way out of your contract, even if it means betraying her father.” He whips his head toward his wife, a look crossing his face that I can’t decipher. I shake my head, my eyes going to Liliya, who’s licking her lips at me yet again, and I say, “And as for my bride-to-be, I doubt our marriage will be happy, especially after our meeting with Mikhail last night."

Leonardo cuts in and chuckles. "I can't believe the sister fucked the cartel leader while he was drunk again."

I hum in agreement, my eyes going back to Liliya. She grins at me before licking her bottom lip, trying to be seductive, not caring about the trouble she's now caused. Mikhail called to explain the situation, and as per the terms of the fucking contract and the stipulations that were added behind our backs, I now have to look out for both his daughters, when all I fucking want is one.

The stupid woman now has the cartel's wife after her. She's already had two attempts on her life, and Miguel's hands are tied. His woman is crazier than he is, and won't step between her and her revenge. They had a deal, and Liliya broke it by fucking the idiot last week, trying to punish her father for allowing my marriage with Elena, which means I'm a million down for no reason.

The “Wedding March” starts, getting our attention, and I stand straight, looking toward the double doors while trying to keep an eye on Liliya.

Every mafia made man is here today, including the fucking cartel leader and his psychopathic wife, and I can't take any chances. The bitch gets killed, and mine and Elena's contract is void; Anastasia ensured it, just like she ensured Liliya would still be my problem, even after I married her youngest.

After reading it, my father and Mikhail blew up. Mikhail cut her off financially for her blatant disrespect for me, her husband, and her daughter.

The doors open, and the Mikhailovs come into view. My attention lands on Elena, and instantly my knees feel weak.

Fuck me, she is stunning.

"Fuck, only Elena can go elegant on her forced wedding day, instead of creating drama," Antonio mutters, and I nod in agreement, my eyes sliding to Liliya, who glares at her sister.

I look back at my bride, taking her in.

Her head is down, and she is not looking at anyone.

A satin dress flows from a butterfly pendant just underneath her full breasts, which are held in tight, thick straps over her shoulders. Her hair, which I have yet to see down, is in some fancy twist, and even from here, I can see she barely has any makeup on.

The only jewelry she's wearing is the choker I got her, and her engagement ring.

"She's fucking perfect," I mumble.

And she is, right down to the innocence that radiates off her.

"I honestly thought she was going to say no at the I do's. I mean, fuck, her mother wore black, for Christ’s sake," Leonardo mutters from next to me at the bar.

He's right. Elena was quiet for a few minutes, struggling to get the words out, until I squeezed her hands. I was looking at Liliya when the priest asked her if she'd take me as her husband.

I am pretty sure her mother's face was red for the rest of the ceremony, thinking it was disrespectful, when in reality, her daughter was struggling to sign her life away.

"She said it; that's the main thing," I reply as I swig my beer.

Leonardo hums in agreement and comments, "Probably would have said it quicker if you weren't staring at her sister for most of the ceremony."

I nod. "I know, but the bitch has a price on her head, and Renata was in the crowd. She dies, the contract is void."

"Surely not now that you're married?" he questions.

I huff. "Anastasia ensured to write it in the contract, and unless Elena gets pregnant soon, I'll be bound to watch over her sister, which means I have to keep myself cold with my wife in public until then to keep her safe. It only takes the wrong fucking hitman to use Elena to hurt me, to get to Liliya, without Renata knowing. Miguel already stated Renata has no idea how ruthless hitmen are."

Leonardo grumbles next to me in frustration, and I nod. My father didn't think I'd need to re-read the fucking contract before signing. It's safe to say he's regretting that now.

I'm fucking bound to watch Liliya until Elena is with child, which hopefully will be soon, but then I have the fucking struggle of making her fall for me, so she doesn't divorce me after the baby is born.

I feel like I can't fucking win right now.

Sighing, I look around the room until my eyes land on Elena. My bride stands alone in the far back, staring at her hand with the same look Maya had before the ceremony.

"She looks ready to bolt, fratello …" Leonardo rasps, and I nod, already picking that shit up. Handing him my beer, I move toward to her. I can see her eyes darting toward the door, and I smirk.

A part of me hopes she'll try to bolt just so I can chase her, while the other, the saner part, knows how bad it'll look on both mine and her father's organizations, if she walks toward those doors.

It'll make us look weak.

Just as she is about to take a step, I stand in front of her, making her gasp in shock. Her eyes make contact with my own for the first time and, fuck me, she has swirls of blue in her violet eyes.

They are fucking mesmerizing.

She sucks in a breath and mutters, "Romeo."

"Elena, you weren't about to leave now, were you?" I ask coldly, causing her to flinch, and I instantly feel like an ass, but I can't have anyone know what she means to me, not right now.

Until Renata has given up on her revenge, I need people to believe this is just an arranged marriage that we're both forced into, not that I orchestrated it.

Renata is aware Liliya is under my protection; Miguel thought she'd back off, but unfortunately, it didn't stop her; she tried to stab her with a steak knife an hour ago, and despite speaking with my wife earlier, who praised her for her fucking efforts, the hitmen she’s been hiring have no boundaries. I can't have them go after Elena all because Liliya is under my protection, because then I would have to kill Renata, which would mean war with the cartel.

Miguel may not love his wife, or so he says, but he has to honor her, and he did fuck someone else, twice.

I give Elena a pointed look, and then say, "It's time to leave, Elena. Say your goodbyes."

Her eyes glaze over with fear, disbelief, and fucking defeat, before she blinks it away, hardness taking over. I know she's scared. All of her belongings have been brought to my home in the suburbs. She has to officially move in with me, something she’s clearly been trying to forget.

Straightening her shoulders, she states, "I have no one to say goodbye to. I'll wait for you near the door." Then she does as she stated, and I flinch. She has barely said two words to her father since our engagement, and I know Mikhail is hurt over it.

Sighing, I walk over to where our parents are, along with a sulking Liliya.

All eyes come my way as I state, "We’re taking off. Father, I'll call you in the morning to discuss business." Papa nods as Mikhail looks behind me, only to sigh, noticing his daughter near the door. I say, "She’ll come round."

He nods but doesn't look convinced. I give him a nod and kiss Mamma's cheek, and then, out of respect, Anastasia and Liliya’s. Liliya turns her head at the last second, catching my lips, and I pull back. She tries to grab my arm to keep me close, and I glare at her with a growl, knowing several fucking people probably saw her action, including my fucking wife.

She flinches back as I sneer at her, “Do that again, and next time I’ll make sure a hitman hits his mark.”

Mikhail sighs as I turn and leave as I look toward my wife to see she’s already leaving out the fucking door.

Fuck’s sake.

At the penthouse, I stare at my new wife, unsure of what to do next.

"Bathroom is through the double doors, Elena," I state as we walk into the penthouse suite at Russo's Plaza. She hasn’t said a word on our way over here, not once looking my way, and even now, she doesn't say anything to me as I remove my watch and unbutton my shirt, my suit jacket long gone. Instead, she walks past me to go to the bathroom but stops just shy of the doorway.

I tilt my head and watch her. She's at war in her head, and I know exactly why. Without giving her time to debate, I walk over to her and stop just behind her. I lift my hands, and pull the tie at the back of her dress that's holding her belt, causing her to tense. I very gently unbutton the tiniest fucking buttons on earth, making her body lock up.

"Who in the fuck designed this thing?" I mutter as I get half her buttons undone a few minutes later. My wife snorts, making me smirk, but she doesn't answer me.

Once the dress is open, the first thing I see is the butterfly tattoo her father mentioned two years ago, which causes a little smile to appear on my face.

It’s no bigger than a dollar bill, full of color. However, when my eyes lock on the several belt mark scars just above it, anger overrides everything else.

I turn her to face me, causing her to gasp and grab hold of her dress at her tits. Her eyes are wide as I gently cup her cheek, our eyes connecting. She furrows her brows, slowly bringing her hand up as her finger traces my scarred brow, and she whispers, "Your eyes are the same color as my engagement ring…."

I ignore her words, and ask as gently as I can, "Who whipped you?"

She blinks, moving her finger from my face, coming out of her trance, and I instantly miss her touch. She tries to step out of my grip, but my hand on her lower back forces her closer to me, and I command, "Who, farfalla ?"

Butterfly slips out, but I don't give a shit; the nickname suits her.

Her eyes widen as she takes a small step back. Confusion waves off her as she assesses me. Clearing her throat, she admits, "It doesn't matter anymore, Rome."

Rome. Fuck anyone else, I would have slit their throat for calling me that, but coming from her lips….

I can't hold back anymore; I lean forward and press my lips against hers. She gasps in shock, giving me the perfect opening. I shove my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers, instantly groaning at the champagne mixed with chocolate taste.

Her hands come up to my chest, and I expect her to push me away, but the sexual attraction we've had burning between us pulls her, and she grips my open shirt, pressing herself against me.

Fuck yes….

Groaning, I grab the straps to her dress and pull them down, causing the dress to fall to the floor. I break the kiss to get a good look at her. Instantly my mouth waters at her perky breasts, her nipples hard, only a flimsy bit of white material covering a cunt that I just know will be delicious.

I look at her face and see it's red. Smirking, I move my hands to her juicy ass, and lift her, causing her to wrap her legs around my waist. Pressing my lips against hers, I blindly walk us over to the bed, not willing for her to change her mind when her libido calms down.

I lay us down, my body going over hers as I remove my shirt, before my hands go to her tiny panties. I grab the material and tear them from her body, my fingers going to her drenched entrance. I feel her tense, and I quickly move my fingers to her nipples, gently playing with them, making her gasp against my mouth and relax a little. Once she’s writhing underneath me, I move my hand to her entrance again. Gently, I circle her clit, causing her to push against my hand, and I rasp against her lips, "Tell me, my farfalla , has anyone touched you here?"

Her face brightens as she shakes her head, and I smile, commenting, "Good," before kissing her hard again, and gently pushing my finger inside her tight channel, which grips my digit instantly.

Fuck me, she's so fucking tight and responsive.

I slowly move my finger, adding two, then three, ensuring she can take me, stretching her.

Not once do I take my lips off hers as I get her ready. I undo my slacks, pushing them down.

It's only when I place my hard cock at her entrance do I break the kiss. I place my forehead against hers, linking our fingers near her head, and make eye contact with her as I push inside her.

Her walls instantly suck me in, squeezing me, and it takes everything in me not to fucking come like a teenager.

When I hit her barrier, I pause momentarily and lift my head to look at her. She squeezes her eyes tightly, and I kiss her eyes, making them fly open. “Keep your eyes on me, farfalla ,” I murmur before I pull out a little, then thrust forward hard, causing her to tense and gasp.

Tears leak out the corner of her eyes. I bend down, licking them away while keeping myself rooted deep inside her. I wait for her to show me she's ready, and when she does, my whole fucking body tingles.

I groan, putting my lips against her neck, silently promising to make her fall for me so I can always be inside her.

Fuck, she's perfect.