Chapter 36

36

Massimo

"You ready for this?" Adrian asks from near my elbow.

I should be more nervous. I've seen my brothers get nervous at their weddings. I saw them shuffle their feet and roll their shoulders to relieve tension as they waited for their brides to walk up the aisle. I had to calm them, joke with them, until they settled down.

I should be more than nervous. I should be petrified at the thought of joining myself willingly in matrimony to a woman who, clearly, doesn't want to marry me. A woman who doesn't feel the same way I do. A woman who, possibly, hates me for how I manipulated her into marrying me. A woman who's going to find every opportunity to avoid me and stay in a different country after she marries me.

I should be angry with her for having tried to pass off someone else as her fiancé, but I'm not. All that heartache and struggle, and trying to figure out a way to bind her to me, was worth it because she's marrying me now. And once she's mine, I'll never let her go. Something she's going to find out soon enough.

"I'm good," I reply.

He shuffles his feet and I side-eye him. "What is it? You seem more nervous than me."

He peers about the gathered crowd and his face falls.

"She's not here, is she?" I murmur.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he snaps.

"Sure you do. You're looking for Cass, and you're disappointed she's not back for my wedding."

"This is her family. She's loyal to all of us. I'd have thought she wouldn't miss your wedding."

"She probably doesn't know about the wedding, and even if she did find out about it, maybe she's too far away to get here from wherever she is. It's not like I gave anyone enough notice to prepare for the wedding."

"Maybe." He locks his hands behind his back. "Still, I can't believe she'd leave without having a way to keep in touch with what's happening back home. She's loyal to the Sovranos."

"Maybe she doesn't want to come. Maybe she wants you to go to her. Have you thought of that?"

He raises a shoulder. His expression giving nothing away.

"You need to figure out your shit before it's too late, fratello ," I advise.

"You mean like you did, by coercing Olivia to marry you?"

"The ends justify the means. She's marrying me; the rest will fall into place."

"I'll remind you of that when you're wondering what the hell hit you. If your wife's not happy with you, trust me, your marriage can turn to hell very quickly."

"And you have experience with that?"

"Maybe not personally, but I've seen enough marriages turn to shit when the missus is fed up."

"That's not going to happen in my case," I say. At least, I think not. I hope not. "Once we're married, I'll be sure to make it up to her."

"And if she doesn't give you the chance?"

"I'll make sure she does. I?—"

A shimmer of electricity runs up my back. The hair on the nape of my neck rise. I don't realize I've turned to glance down the aisle until I see her. She stands there at the entrance to the conservatory in a shimmering steel gray-blue gown that dips just enough in the front to hint at her cleavage before nipping in at the waist and flowing down to her feet.

The music starts and she glides forward. The gold threads through the fabric shimmer and undulate with every step she takes forward. The full-length sleeves only accentuate the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the perfectly guitar-shaped figure of hers that caught my attention the first time I ever saw her.

I didn't realize I'm someone who prefers curvy hips until I saw her. But one sight of her glorious behind, and I was a goner. In her hands, she carries a spray of white flowers. Her hair is twisted up, and she wears a gray-blue netted veil that flows down to cover her eyes. She looks ethereal yet earthy, gorgeous yet natural, aloof yet so filled with passion. She looks like she was made for me. Like she wore that dress only for me. Like her gaze is only on me.

The rustling of clothes, the sound of someone coughing, of shuffling feet—all of it fades as she draws near. When she reaches me, she turns to face me, her lips adorned in a transparent lip color which, along with the netting that falls over her eyes, makes her look mysterious, and secretive, and so very seductive.

The officiant, who was roped in to preside over the ceremony, clears his throat. I barely listen to him as he recites the necessary words. I can't take my gaze off of her face as she says, "I do."

I make the appropriate noises when it's my turn, then slide the ring I purchased onto her finger. I hold out my hand for her to slip the wedding band onto mine. When he pronounces us husband and wife, I close the distance to her and raise the veil over her eyes. Her green gaze holds mine. Her eyes are clear, and her lips part as I lower my head to hers. I brush my mouth over the scar on her cheek, and she shivers. A noise escapes the back of her throat, and every cell in my body shifts into high alert. I drag my lips down to hers and kiss her firmly. Her mouth trembles under mine, and sensations unlike anything I've ever experienced course through my veins. Ownership, possession, wanting to protect her from the world, to hold and to cherish her, to show her every possible joy, to shield her from hurt, to ensure I give her everything she needs. To love her, to keep her happy, to satisfy all of her desires, to teach her just how good it can be between us. To show her what it means to be desired by me. To be mine. Only mine.

I raise my head and glance at her through half-closed eyelids. Her own are heavy with lust, her cheeks flushed with color. She's staring at me as if she's only now realizing what she agreed to do, and she's unable to wrap her head around it, unable to comprehend exactly what it means to be married to me. If I'm being honest, that expression of surprise gladdens me. Best to keep her a little off-kilter. At least, until she develops feelings for me.

"You okay?" I tuck a strand of hair that's come loose behind her ear.

She draws in a sharp breath, her gaze still fixed on mine.

"Via?" I whisper my knuckles across her cheek, and she blinks. Then nods.

"I'm good."

"Good." I allow my lips to twist in a smile as I lower my hand and twine my fingers with hers.

We walk forward, and her friend Jeanne is the first one to rush forward to congratulate us. She throws her arms around Via and congratulates her as Adrian shakes my hand.

"You did it, man."

"It's your turn next." I bump his shoulder with my fist.

He chuckles without comment, then steps back as my other brothers surround us.

An hour later, I glance to my right where my wife is sipping prosecco from her flute. She laughs at something her friend Penny says. She hasn't said a word to me since that exchange right after I kissed her. Clearly, she's avoiding me. Perhaps she's still reconciling herself with the change in her status. The ceremony was mercifully short, at least. Now, we just need to get through this dinner.

Given the choice, I'd have returned home with her, but no way would my brothers allow us to leave without partaking in the feast. Karma mentioned to me that Nonna's old chef, Gino, had pulled it together specifically for us. So, I led Via to the dining room, made sure she was seated, and took the chair next to her. All of which was accomplished without her so much as meeting my eyes. She can avoid me all she likes, but both she and I know we'll have to talk soon. There's time for that, though.

For now, I glance around the table. To my right is Adrian. My other brothers and their wives sit in the other chairs. On one end, Solene and Declan sit next to each other. There's enough space between them that they don't touch. They're not looking at each other, and not talking to the people next to them. They seem to be focused on staring straight forward, as if trying to avoid each other's eyes. That should be an interesting relationship.

Olivia's mother congratulated both of us, but opted not to stay for dinner. Not that I'm complaining. Besides, she's in mourning, which was obvious to me as soon as I saw her dressed all in black. I don't regret what I did to Diego, but it stands to reason that his mother's pissed-off at me. Although if she is, she didn't let on when she came face-to-face with me. Either she silently agrees with what I did and recognizes it was the only way to save her daughter from the unimaginable fate her brother intended for her, or she knows how to hide her true feelings. Either way, I admit, I wasn't too sad when she left with Olivia's aunt, uncle, and cousins right after the wedding.

As for Solene, I doubt she has forgiven me, but she's here for Olivia, and that's what matters.

The staff serves us our starters, tops off our flutes, and steps back.

Michael rises to his feet. He raises his flute, and everyone quiets down. "I am truly happy to have our entire family together today. We have been through a lot in the last few months, and my heart is full seeing my entire family in my home, at my table." He glances around the space, until his gaze alights on me. "I want to start by wishing Massimo and Olivia the very best in the journey they are starting together. May you find happiness and discover the joys of a true partnership."

"Hear, hear," Christian raises his glass.

"I also want to, once more, welcome Jeanne, Elsa, Theresa, and Aurora to our family. You have all been a welcome addition to the lives of my brothers and have changed the energy of this family to one of hope, joy, and anticipation for the future. You've given all of us a reason to come home safely at the end of the day, and for that, I'll always be thankful to you."

Jeanne smiles, Elsa chuckles, Theresa nods. Aurora tilts her head in Michael's direction. She's a doctor, and we relied on her father, and then on her to nurse us through various wounds at the time when we were more actively engaged in the traditional Cosa Nostra business. As my brothers married, the realization that we couldn't continue to risk our lives, and that of our loved ones, dawned on us. Which is why we're in the process of legalizing our businesses—something that's taking longer than expected, given the vast number of enterprises we're involved in. The intricacies of this switch have kept me busy, but I hope we'll see the end of it very soon. It's a shift that I'm glad to make, and I'm confident it will prove to be seamless.

"I also want to toast my wife, Karma. You're the most incredible woman I have ever met. I'm lucky to have you in my life and I can't wait for our child to arrive so we can be a family."

He bends down to kiss her lips. He deepens the kiss to choruses of "ooh," and "get a room, guys."

They continue kissing, and Luca throws a roll at Michael's head. It misses, barely—which is intentional, as Luca is the best shot I know—and Michael straightens with a smirk on his face.

Karma leans back in her seat, her features slightly paler than usual. The pregnancy has been hard on her, and Michael has seldom left her side since she announced her pregnancy.

Michael glances around the table again, and his features sober. "I also want to take a moment to remember those who are not with us anymore: our brother, Xander and Nonna."

"Xander?" Olivia turns to me. "Couldn't he make it today?'

I shake my head. "Xander was Christian and Axel's triplet. He died in a car bomb explosion rigged by our father."

She gasps. "Oh, my god, that's awful. I had no idea." She places her palm over my hand, and her touch travels straight down my arm, down my waist, to my groin. Fuck. At this rate, I'm going to throw her down and rut into her in front of everyone, and while that picture is highly appealing, it's not how I want to start our marriage. Not that I don't want to consummate our relationship, but it has to be when she's ready for it. I draw in a breath and her scent, that elixir of vanilla and coconut, fills my senses. My cock throbs, and goddamn, she better be ready to consummate this marriage soon. There's no telling how long I'll be able to hold out.

I pull my hand out from under hers, then raise my glass. "I'd like to propose a toast."