7

Alessio

Faro handed me a flask.

"For you." I pulled the tie into place before taking the gift.

"I'm not drinking hard liquor today."

"I thought you could use it to hit yourself on the head if you consider something as stupid as rejecting the tradition of the bloody sheet again." He slipped the flask into the pocket inside his jacket.

"Don't start over again."

Faro cast a glare.

"Just promise you won't try this fake bloodstain bullshit. Luca was baiting you. Trust me, he fucked that wife of his on his wedding night, even though she cried bitter tears. That's who he is and who he expects you to be. Come on, Alessio, you are that man, so stop trying to be a better man just because you feel guilty about Gaia." I squeezed his throat.

"We're friends, Faro, but I'm also your boss, so show some respect."

Faro babbled, his brown eyes watering.

"I'm trying to keep you alive. Gianna is a grown woman by age. That's all that should matter."

"I'm about to fuck her, so get off my back," I said through clenched teeth, letting him go. I hadn't seen her since our first and only meeting four months earlier, but I knew she still looked young, younger than I would have liked. A few months would not change that. I could only hope that her mother had followed my instructions and put enough makeup on her face to make her look older. Faro smiled.

"Do me a favor and have fun, won't you? Tonight, you'll have a tight young pussy around your cock." He left the room before I could grab it again.

I waited for Gianna in front of the church. Faro was to my right and in front of him waited one of Gianna's friends, who looked awfully young. A reminder of my future wife's age.

When the music started, I turned my attention to the entrance of the church where Felix entered with Gianna at his side.

She was dressed in an elegant long white dress with a long-sleeved lace top.

Her hair was pulled up except for her bangs. She smiled slightly as her father led her toward me, but her tension was unmistakable.

When she came in front of me, I noticed the small sunflowers entwined in her hair and bridal bouquet. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment I caught a hint of defiance in them, surprising me.

Then her father handed her to me, and Gianna became more tense, her smile faltering. She looked a little older thanks to her makeup and elegant dress. Still, her thin, moist hand in mine and the innocence in her eyes reminded me of her age.

Despite her young age, she held her head high, appearing comfortable with the situation. Only I could feel her trembling.

Her "yes" was firm, as if this bond was really her choice. As we exchanged rings, Gianna kept giving me uncertain glances.

I wasn't sure what she was looking for. Maybe melancholy or even sadness. I remembered my first marriage.

Sadness was not part of my feelings when I thought of Gaia.

"You may kiss the bride," said the priest.

Gianna's eyes widened a little, as if that part of the ceremony had been a surprise. Hundreds of eyes looked at us, one of which belonged to my Chief. I cupped the back of her head and bent down. She remained petrified, except for her eyes, which closed a moment before I pressed my mouth firmly against hers.

Until that moment, physical closeness with Gianna had seemed like something I would have to force myself to accept, a struggle to forget her age and the baggage I carried.

Now, as her soft lips touched mine and her sweet scent hit me, a deeply buried desire ignited within me. Claiming her tonight would be no problem. Being a better man was definitely not in my future.

I pulled back, causing Gianna to open her eyes. She held my gaze, a blush scaling her cheeks. Then she turned a small, shy smile on me. So damn innocent.

I straightened, looking away from her beautiful young face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her puzzled expression before leading her down the aisle and out of the church in congratulations.

Faro, of course, was the first to congratulate me. She tapped my shoulder with a defiant smile.

"And how was the first taste of your young wife?" he asked in a low voice. I frowned. He knew full well that I rarely shared such information. That didn't stop him from asking, of course. He took a step back and turned to Gianna, giving a little bow. His answering smile was the kind of unguarded friendliness that gave evidence of his age.

As my wife, she should have learned to be more moderate. Gaia had been the perfect hostess and trophy wife, balanced and a master of social etiquette, a ready liar, someone who would smile at you one moment only to stab you in the back the next. Gianna was not like that. She should have grown up fast, learned the details of being the wife of an Underboss.

My eyes lingered on the little sunflowers in her hairstyle. Those should go first.

Too carefree, too eccentric. Nothing I appreciated.

The sunflower earrings were even worse. She should have worn the jewelry I had sent her. I leaned toward her.

"Why didn't you wear the diamond earrings I bought you?"

Gianna

I gasped at the cold disapproval in her voice. Mom and Dad headed over to congratulate us, which didn't give me much time to respond.

"They didn't match the flower arrangement." I had fought with Mom for weeks to get sunflowers as part of my wedding flowers. Eventually Dad had settled the matter in my favor, as he usually did.

"You shouldn't have chosen the sunflowers. Next time I send you something to wear, I expect you to do so."

I blinked, too stunned to respond. He straightened up. For him, the matter was settled. He had given an order and naturally expected me to obey. There was no doubt in his mind that I would. His expression was steely as he shook Father's hand.

Mom pulled me into a hug, looking away from my husband. A frown appeared on her face.

"You look happy, Gianna," she whispered. "Don't you realize how lucky you are?

I never thought we would be able to get you married to an Underboss, considering they were all already married. This is a stroke of luck." My smile was stiff.

What was a stroke of luck?

That Gaia Moretti had died, leaving behind two small children? That I was married to the man who might be responsible for her death? Mom's expression pinched.

"For God's sake, try harder to look happy. Don't ruin this for us."

Mom did not even realize how cruel this was.

Fortunately, Dad came up to me and hugged me.

I sank into him. He and I had always been closer, but recently my resentment had clouded our relationship.

"You are beautiful." "I don't think Alessio agrees," I muttered. Dad pulled back, scrutinizing my face. His guilt and concern added another weight to my already heavy heart.

"I'm sure he appreciates your beauty," Dad said calmly. I kissed Dad's cheek and he reluctantly moved away to make room for Alessio's parents.

I had never spoken to them and had only seen them from a distance at a couple of social functions. Mr. Moretti shared Alessio's dark blue eyes, but his were clouded and his impressive size was diminished by the fact that he supported his weight on a cane. Alessio's mother was elegant and beautiful, with her dark blond hair pulled back into a perfect bun.

Behind her, Alessio's sisters waited, no less graceful and balanced.

This was how I was supposed to be. Alessio didn't want me for me. He wanted me to become someone he needed. Accessories in his life.