Chapter 9

There was chaos on the upper deck as men holding semi-automatic Beretta PMXs rushed onto my yacht.

Not expecting this level of trouble, I only had a skeleton crew with me. Despite the odds of four to one, my men had taken stronghold positions and were prepared to fight.

I raised my hand. "Hold."

A dark figure strolled down the dock and over the makeshift gangplank his men had extended onto my boat.

I leaned both hands on the railing as I watched him approach. "Didn't figure you for the pirate type."

Dante Agnello shrugged. "My girl likes the outfits."

He re-buttoned his Armani suit jacket the moment he stepped onto the deck. "Mines bigger," he observed, looking around.

Leaning against the railing with crossed arms, I responded, "You know what they say about men and overcompensating with fast cars and big boats."

Dante laughed as he extended his hand. "How are you, my friend?"

Unfolding my arms, I reached out and shook his hand. "As well as can be expected."

"And your father and Liliana?"

"The-most-interesting-man-in-the-world and his new bride? They are happy hermits up north at his ranch in San Vito di Cadore—but you already knew that."

He shrugged again. "I keep tabs."

With a flick of my hand, I motioned to his men. "So, what's with the welcoming party?"

Dante rubbed his forehead, then let out a frustrated sigh. "The girl's father is furious. He's threatening to tear apart Palermo looking for her."

"Interesting. Too bad he didn't show this much interest in her whereabouts sooner or we wouldn't be in this mess."

There was no point in diplomacy. If Antonius Carlo Fichera had shown even half as much interest in his daughter as he had in Liliana's godfather, Salvatore Giovanni Mangano, and his plans to try to oust Dante as the boss of their mafia syndicate, I wouldn't even be in Sicily preparing to marry her.

I placed the blame solely at her father's feet for letting her run wild and fuck inappropriate men under his command.

Clearly, the girl had been acting out for attention. I had since learned her mother ran off when she was just a young teen. It was all so classic rebellious teenager bullshit, it would be tiresome if she wasn't now in her twenties and my forced fiancée.

After a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure his men had maintained a respectful distance, Dante turned back to me. "On this, we are in agreement. However, that does not solve my problem this evening."

With a sweep of my arm, I motioned for him to join me in the forward deck lounge. "If you agree to leave your pets on shore, I could offer you a drink."

After a ghost of a smile, Dante kept his gaze on me as he called out, "Leave us, but guard the plank."

His men filed off my yacht, leaving only two to stand guard over the temporary gangplank they used to board.

As he followed me to the lounge area, he said, "No offense, friend, but you aren't going to serve me one of your family's wines, are you? I prefer to drink red only when I dine."

After stepping behind the bar, I placed two digestivo glasses on the upper counter. Holding up a bottle of Amaro Montenegro, I said as I unscrewed the cap, "No offense, friend. I only offer those bottles to invited guests."

Pouring the aromatic liquor in both glasses, I pushed one toward him.

He lifted the glass. "Cin cin."

"Cin cin," I responded, sipping the nutmeg-and-orange-sweetened bitters.

Making our way to the railing, we both looked out over the harbor for a moment, taking in the sparkling reflection of the moon off the water, the blinking green and red harbor lights bobbing in the distance, piercing the darkness.

The crisp winter air was acrid with the fragrance of char and roasted nuts from the steady stream of thick smoke rising above the stucco buildings marking the location of Piazza Garraffello. Carnevale continued in full swing amidst the glowing windows and streetlights of Palermo, as it would until way past dawn.

Dante leaned on the railing. "While I'm pleased that you are keeping your promise, I confess I'm confused as to why you would want to stir up trouble with your future father-in-law."

My knuckles whitened as I gripped my glass. "The man should thank me for dragging her away from Carnevale where she could have gotten into all sorts of trouble."

Like parading around in barely more than a corset, fucking a man in public, and offering me an anal threesome, to start with.

"I was doing him a favor. Trust me."

Dante frowned. "I hadn't heard she was at Carnevale. That's not like her."

I snorted and raised my glass to take a sip. "Really? Because it sounds exactly like her to me."

He shook his head. "Strange. Either way, I need to return her before her father and sister find out you were the one who took her."

Despite wanting to point out that her father's sudden Catholic concern for his daughters maidenly virtue was far too late, I bit my tongue.

As to why her sister would give a fuck, I had absolutely no idea.

I was aware Antonia had an identical twin sister named Antonella, Ella for short, but my sources said they were not particularly close. It was odd for twins, but not unusual, especially twins with such polar opposite personalities.

As far as I had learned, Ella was a shy little thing who was only interested in her studies and playing the cello. By all accounts, she was absolutely nothing like her sister, Antonia.

I couldn't even find evidence of Ella having a boyfriend. It was crucial that I know of all the males surrounding this situation in case one decided to play knight in shining armor to Antonia's damsel in distress. Including Ella's boyfriend if she had one, since I wouldn't put it past Antonia to cross that line if it suited her purposes.

Judging by her innocent ingenue act earlier, it was a necessary precaution.

Dante continued. "Her father hasn't given his full blessing to this union yet. If he deems you a threat more than an asset, the plan is done.

"There is no need to remind me. I'm meeting him tomorrow when I play the gracious future son-in-law for Shrove Tuesday dinner after the parade."

Martedi Grasso, the last feast day before Lent, was not one of my favorites. It was traditionally full of obnoxiously rich sweets as Italians cleared out their pantries before the weeks of fasting.

He drained his glass. "Good. I will not ask questions about tonight, but from this point forward, I need you to truly act like a fucking groom and stay away from the sister."

The sister? Ella? The shy cello player?

After tossing the rest of my drink over the railing, I turned to him with a furrowed brow. "Dante, what the hell are you getting at by warning me away from her sis?—"

Before I could finish, the bride in question, defying my express order to stay in the room, appeared.

My anger intensified when she stepped fully into the light.

She looked beautiful—and thoroughly fucked—even though we didn't get that far.

Her golden curls were tousled and teased. Her lips cherry-red and swollen. Her cheeks still had a high blush that I was certain would match the lower cheeks I had whipped with my riding crop. It didn't help that she looked sexy as fuck wearing one of my white dress shirts tied off at the waist over her voluminous skirt. Neither did it help that I knew under that shirt was a white lace corset and that her torn panties were probably still laying on my bedroom floor.

With her head bowed and her hands twisting the fabric of her skirt, she whispered, "Good evening, Don Agnello, is Father really mad?"

Dante smiled with warm affection at her as he approached and lifted her arms to kiss the backs of her hands. "For you? I lied and said you were with me and some associates enjoying a musical concert at the church. I told him I would have you home soon."

I viewed the touching scene with growing anger.

Antonia in church? Seriously? That wasn't even remotely believable.

Was Dante also one of Antonia's lovers?

He could have fooled me the night I was on his yacht with my father and Liliana. All of Dante's body language toward Antonia showed he found her to be an annoying troublemaker. He expressed the same sentiment during the wedding. Right before he told me he needed to marry her off before she caused a civil war in his syndicate by sleeping with two different, powerful married men.

My bride wrapped her arms around Dante's waist and buried her head in his chest. "Thank you, Don Agnello."

What the fuck?

He tipped her chin back and winked. "You're still going to catch hell for forgetting to tell your father I asked you to join me for evening Mass."

Her lips thinned. "Yes, sir."

Sir?

My fingers clenched into a fist as I stepped forward. "Get your hands off her."

Even if he were one of her lovers, that ended the day he asked me to be her fucking fiancé.

Dante didn't turn to face me. Nodding, he instructed her, Go with my men. I'll be right there."

I clenched my teeth. "She isn't going anywhere, not until I say so."

She looked between Dante and me, then quickly pivoted on her heel to race toward Dante's men and down the gangplank.

My gaze narrowed. She was going to pay for her disobedience.

Dante turned to me and threw his arms in the air. "What the fuck was that? What did I just say about only concerning yourself with your bride and not the sister?"

Really? What the fuck is with him and the damn sister?

"Antonia will soon be a Cavalieri, and that means she and her sister, Ella, will be under my protection and therefore my concern, not yours. Remember that."

I could only assume Antonia would want her twin sister, Ella, to be with her to have family near while in Abruzzo. If what I learned about the shy sister was any indication, hopefully she would be a positive, calming influence on my bride.

"Soon, but not yet. The Fichera girls remain under my protection until then. See that you remember that."

Dante was a powerful Don in Sicily and a tentative, if reluctant, ally of the Cavalieri family. It would serve no purpose to continue arguing with him. By the end of the week, I would be back in Abruzzo at the Cavalieri winery with my troublemaking bride, planning our ill-fated wedding.

I watched as Dante joined her on the dock and walked toward his car.

All the while thinking of how I would maneuver to get her alone Tuesday night before dinner, to punish her for her open defiance of me.

My cock hardened as several intriguing disciplinary options crossed my mind.