Dealer and his Bestowed Bride (The Rossi Family Mafia Book 2) (5 page)

I didn’t have much in the way of family. As I walked down the aisle to the sound of a violin solo, I was able to count the number of people from my side who showed up on one hand. To be fair though, a week was not enough time to give people for a wedding.
 

My father had left my mother when I was a little kid. He was Italian and from what I had heard was no longer in the states. My mother was Irish American and a free spirit. While she was poor, she lived on a small piece of land in the Midwest with my step-dad. Two years ago, they cut off contact from me. I didn’t blame them.

There was my aunt who lived in New York, then my step-sister who I hadn’t seen in more than a decade, then other random family that I never spoke to. Most of them were only there because Luca’s mother paid them off, afraid that a side of the church would be empty.

The Rossi side was full to the brim with loved-ones. Catholic families ... disgusting. Even though Armento had told me that this wasn’t a real wedding, Luca’s side of the family certainly acted like it was.
 

Armento stood in for my father and I held his arm like my life depended on it as I walked down the aisle. The dress that had been picked out for me in the whirlwind before my wedding was heavy, and got in the way of walking. I had to thrust my legs out like I was trying to kick a soccer ball with each step, just to make sure I didn’t end up in a heap on the floor.
 

Thankfully, I hadn’t cried since the finishing touches were put on my makeup, even if my eyes were still a little puffy. The women, strangers who walked in and out of my dressing room, had told me I looked like a princess. I thought I looked like a freak.

I looked up toward the front of the church. Standing there was Luca, my future husband. He wore a smart suit, black and formal. His brothers acted as his groomsmen and his sisters were my bridesmaids. His family all seemed nice enough, but for all I knew they could all be the worst criminals the underworld had ever seen.
 

Armento’s mouth was next to my ear so I could feel his breath on my neck.
 

“Don’t. Freak. Out.” he ordered in a whisper once we arrived at the point where he was supposed to give me away. He smiled and turned to embrace me as though he was my father.

“No promises,” I replied through gritted teeth. At that point, I’d say whatever I thought would annoy him.

When we stepped back from the embrace, Luca walked up to Armento and shook his hand, then looked at me.
 

I wish I didn’t have to play the happy bride, but I did anyway. My smile was fake and both of us knew it, but I walked with him up to the center of the stage, where the priest stood.

I had never been to a Catholic wedding and didn't realize how boring the process was. It seemed so formulaic for me, I wanted something more personal. But to be honest, this wedding was the least personal affair I could think of.
 

We didn’t love each other, nor did we want to spend our lives together. We were two pawns that followed what the Mafia wanted. For some reason, they took pleasure arranging marriages and screwing with other people’s love lives.
 

I stole a few glances around the room as the priest droned on. All of Luca’s family were teary eyed. Did they not know that this wasn’t permanent? I thought that his family was clearly tied to the Mafia.
 

“You may now kiss the bride.” the priest said. It caught me off guard. I was starting to panic, not knowing what I should do. Luca came close to me, his hands touching my shoulders to bring me close. It had been years since a man had kissed me, and I wasn't sure I was ready again, but it was happening and there was nothing I could do about it.
 

Luca was attractive, I couldn’t deny that. He was fit and tan and I could tell he was clever, everything I wanted in a man. But this was happening in the wrong way. He was a drug dealer, another Mafia criminal who would treat me like a piece of meat.
 

He leaned in to me until I could feel his breath mingle with mine. My heart fluttered and I felt like I was betraying myself. There I was, committing my body and soul to a stranger when I had no love for him. How could I kiss this man?
 

He paused for a second, perhaps having the same thoughts I did. We had barely spoken all week, no time to get to know each other before we were married off like it was medieval times.

I looked into his eyes and they seemed to say, fuck it. He closed the gap and kissed me. He tasted like spices and musk. He was warm and it drove me crazy that I enjoyed myself as we kissed for the first time at the altar.

I didn’t kiss him back, mostly out of stubbornness. No part of myself wanted to be married, but every part of me had enjoyed that kiss.
 

I blushed deeply at the shame it caused me as everyone in the pews cheered. When we parted, I realized Luca was grinning ear-to-ear. Whatever had happened during the kiss, he had felt the spark too.

I kept myself from glaring back at him, trying to play the blushing bride. We turned toward the group of people in the church seats, who hooted and hollered.
 

Luca offered me his hand, which I snatched from him, not making any eye contact. All I could do was look ahead and not think about what we had just done. If I lingered on it at all, I wanted to fall into a ball and cry. In less than 30 minutes, I had lost my independence and was attached by law to a stranger.
 

We ran down the aisle, smiling faces were on everyone we passed. Armento nodded toward me, but I ignored him too. At that moment, I was living second-to-second. The doors were opened for us and we stepped out into the cool fall air.
 

Before us was a lovely car covered in scribbles that said “Just Married!”. Behind the car, a bunch of cans were tied to the back bumper.
The entire group followed us out, throwing rice at us. I wanted to yell and throw the rice back in their faces, but I smiled for them and let Luca drag me into the car. As Luca closed the car door behind me, I felt as though I was being trapped in a prison that I had made for myself.
 

The reception was going quite well ... for an arranged marriage that is.
My family had been good sports about it, probably under threat of retribution from my father. I watched the man as he walked from table-to-table, greeting extending family members.

“Yes, yes,” I had heard him say. “Quite unexpected. They knew each other in school for a long time. We didn’t know how serious it was until recently.”

I snorted. He was such a bad liar. It would be more believable if he went around telling people I had knocked up a stranger and was doing the honorable thing. Multiple aunts and cousins had already passed our table asking when the baby was coming. It seemed to be the rumor of choice.

The hotel that the reception was held in was more than grand. Golden chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling, sparkling lights across the walls. The space was large enough to hold the Italian family reunion that our wedding had turned into.
 
My mother had chosen red and gold as the colors, to match the fall season. Music played in the background as people ate their meals and mingled.
 

“More wine, sir?” A server bent at the waist, holding up a bottle of red wine. I opened my mouth to decline, but was cut off by a voice next to me.

“Yes.” Piper said, breaking the pact of silence she had seemed to adhere to all weekend. When the man brought the bottle closer to fill her glass, the woman took it from his hands and then took a swig straight out of the bottle.
 

Both the waiter and I looked at her in horror, but the poor waiter quickly regained his composure and turned to me as Piper helped herself to the entire bottle like she was in a Gatorade commercial.

“My apologies, it seems I am out of wine. Do you have a preference for wine?”

“On the other hand,” I replied, “If you’re serving whiskey I’ll have one ... neat if you please.”

He bobbed his head and stepped away, leaving me to watch my lovely wife nurse an entire bottle of red wine.
 

“You have something,” I told her, motioning to my chin. It was a bit of an understatement, since red wine was dripping from her mouth from her last swig. She rolled her eyes at me and wiped her face with her hand, like she was some smarmy old man after a swig of beer.
 

“Fuck you,” she slurred, then took another swig of wine.
 

“This marriage seems to be starting off on the right foot,” I muttered. At least the pregnancy rumors would be stomped out as people started to stare at Piper’s blatantly bad behavior.
 

“Oh don’t mind her,” I told a distant cousin as they ogled Piper in passing. “She’s half Irish. Strange customs, those Irishmen have.”

She gave me a disapproving look, but pretended she didn’t see anything. Good woman.

“Whiskey, neat.” The server said as he offered me my drink. I nodded to him before my wife thrust an empty wine bottle into his open hands.

“What’s your most expensive wine?” she asked.
 

“Well, we have the Chateau Petrus, 2000,” he said nervously.

“I’ll have it.” She turned toward me. “This party’s on your Daddy’s dime, right?”

I sipped on my whiskey and raised my eyebrows, not wanting to add to the train wreck going on in front of me. However, I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get hammered on a thousand-dollar bottle of wine.

“You sure you can drink two bottles of wine?”

“Ha,” she shook her head and glanced at the waiter. “Bring it to me.”

I tipped my glass back and finished the drink. Hopefully, I could steal away the wine bottle before she drank the entire thing herself.

“I’m not going to clean up after your throw up in our hotel room.”

She blinked at me.
 

“What?”
 

“You know, the suite we have for our wedding night.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she replied.
 

“Nope,” I shrugged my shoulders. “We’re husband and wife, I expect we’ll be doing all the things that married couples do.”

She interrupted me, giggles bubbling up from her chest, which turned into a hearty laugh. It became so loud that the wedding party, my brothers and sisters, began looking at the both of us with worry.
 

And here I was thinking I was going to get laid.
 

Though she was loud and rude, the way she looked in her wedding dress made me want to take her right there in front of my grandmother and distant relatives.
 

She was fit and nice to look at. While her breasts weren’t DD’s, they would make a decent handful. I glanced down to eye her cleavage with yearning since she wasn’t paying attention. At that point, I was afraid she’d slap me if she noticed my gaze. Oh well, I liked my women feisty, it was a bit more ... interesting.

She was sexy and mysterious with a side of deadly and she was now my wedded wife. While I didn’t think it would last as long as my father anticipated, I hoped our marriage would last long enough for me to fuck her.

When the server returned with the wine and Piper grabbed for the bottle once more, I took the bottle away before she could grab anything. She glared at me and I met her gaze, my eyes steady and hers like fire. Unlike the server, she didn’t try to jump me for the horribly expensive bottle, but watched as I uncorked the wine and then poured it into her glass first, then mine. I smirked and raised the glass to her.

“To our marriage,” I said.
 

“To our future divorce,” she replied.
 

Piper proceeded to guzzle down the glass of red wine. I sipped the hundreds of dollars’ worth of booze in my glass. Ignoring my blushing bride as she spilled red splotches all over her dress. I noted oak, wheatgrass and maybe the hint of ash in my mouth.

The traditions went by like a blur. Both of us were just as smashed as the cake we forced into each other’s faces. Lovely words were said about our non-relationship by my brothers and sisters.
 

Then it came time for the fun part.

“I’m not-” Piper hiccuped as we wobbled into the middle of the room.
 

“You are,” I sat her down in the chair. The crowd was gathering around us and all of the bachelors were waiting behind me.
 

Time for the garter toss.
 

It took me a few seconds to gather my courage, afraid I’d get a broken nose if I adventured under the white satin of her dress.

“Come on Luca! It’s not like you haven’t seen a pair of woman’s legs before!”

There was a laugh that spread throughout the crowd. I glared at my older brother, Matteo. He was always acting like a dick, but it wasn’t like he was getting a promotion.
 

Adventuring into Piper’s dress was probably the highlight of my night. Her legs were silky smooth and I could see up to her underwear, lacy and white. It barely covered her pussy. My lips stopped at her garter long enough for them to brush her skin. Before she could kick me, I bit down on the silk, giving her a small nip in the process.
 

The garter slid down her beautiful long leg and then I grabbed it with my hand to pull the band from her ankle. When I exited her gown, the entire party cheered.
 

My brothers and some cousins had gathered in a group in front of me. I stood up, looking down at my bride, who had her arms crossed against her chest and wasn’t in the mood to pretend anymore. I laughed nervously, which made the rest of my family laugh.

“Looks like I’m going to be in he doghouse tonight.” They all chuckled nervously, even if Piper was giving them glares that could kill.

I straightened myself, turning my back to the crowd of single men. The garter belt went flying behind me and I turned to see who was the winner.

After what looked like a violent scuffle, Matteo’s fist finally rose up in the crowd. He was the winner? I doubted that he would be getting a wife anytime soon, whether he was forced to or not. I don’t think my Father trusted Matteo to not rough up whomever he dated.