His Sweet Bonnie

5: Mrs. Moretti

Bonnie’s POV

“… I pronounce you husband and wife.” The Registrar’s voice echoes his declaration in the empty courtroom.

Vincenzo needed his operation faster than lightning, as much as I need my revenge. So we fixed the wedding at the crack of dawn. It's a court wedding, with only his mom and Dante in attendance.

I look at the silent hall behind me. Nana didn't walk me down the aisle as she promised. Nothing about this is my dream wedding, not even the dress, or worse, the groom!

“Mrs. Moretti?” The Registrar calls my attention back as he slips the marriage certificate over, indicating I sign. “Here.”

I take the pen and pause to read my name next to the meanest man on earth.

‘Bonnie,’ I whisper to myself, holding back from crying on the document. ‘It’s fake. He’s not your husband…’ I try to fix myself.

“Having cold feet, wifey?” His deep baritone startles me a little. I feel the vibrations run down my spine.

Cocky dumbass!

“No,” I turn to face him, almost brushing my face against his dangerously near one. I freeze at the closeness, at the tip of his nose a finger breath from mine, at the most sultry brown eyes. There is nothing soft about Vincenzo’s stern features, but his hazel brown eyes are unfairly charming.

“I was wondering if you deserve me.” Still staring at him while I mumble is a chore. My heart is racing by the second. It's hard to ignore his smooth olive skin, clean and seemingly silky beard, and even harder not to feel his perfectly shaped thin lips inch to mine.

“Then, don't sign it.” His warm whiskey-scented breath wafts in my face.

I unconsciously drink him in; my eyelids flutter at the tingling sensation beneath my skin. Damn, I broke the gaze. Without entertaining a second thought, I pen my signature next to his name, and watch him do the same.

We walk out for group photos, and not for once does he let his Madre leave his side. For the first time, I see his hard shell crack; how he gently positions her, puts a hand over her shoulder whenever he can. With the last shutter clicking, it's a wrap. I head to his SUV while he pushes his mother’s wheelchair to her car.

“Here,” his voice returns as he slips into the backseat of the car, next to me.

I take the brown envelope and peek in. The phone is the first thing that catches my fancy! I swiftly reach for it.

“I didn't make you out as dumb.” His cold voice stops me from excitedly taking out the phone. He watches me stiffen for a moment and doesn't care to stop. “You have a phone, so what? You want to ring down your evil community?”

“You have no right—”

His fierce hand grabs my arm and he effortlessly pulls me to himself. Our forehead kiss, his burning gaze tears down my flicker of hope.

“The real world isn't all Disney, principessa. You think the court would grant you your heiress badge on a platter?” His jaws harden. “You may be lucky to cheat death, but you may not the second time.” He lets me go and I drop in my seat like a rag doll.

I gulp noisily, hating that he’s right.

Nana may be too careless with this information, and it’ll compromise my revenge.

“You’re moving into my room.”

“What?” My head whips in his direction. He just sits put with a straight face. “I won't–”

“I’m not asking you to.” He cuts me off. “Poor wifey didn't read up the mafia tradition. Just a tip,” He flips His watch and frowns. “You’re playing wife till you're not.”

I chuckle. “And if this mafia BS includes us having s*x—”

“You're not my type. Relax your little head.”

WHAT?!

I shouldn't care, right? Except my heart is squeezing too tightly. I may not be the prettiest girl on the block, but I’ve never been thrown off like a piece of crap.

“You wish.” Defenseless, I sit back and remain silent till we ride home.

I angrily walk to my room to get rid of the wedding dress and change into my nightie. There’s a sudden knock on the door. It's the butler, Mr. James. He’s here to help move my things to his boss’ room. I let him have at it and walk down to the bar.

It's cozy, warm. It's the kind of place that invites you to let down your guard and get drunk, but knowing how alcohol messes up my system, I’m not about to, especially not in Vincenzo’s house.

Settling for a bottle of brandy, I pour myself in moderation. One shot brings back memories, and two brings hot tears running down my cheeks.

Gosh! I miss Nana.

I know I shouldn't… But damn it, I grab my phone from the counter and dial Nana.

She picks up on the first ring. “Hello?” Her voice is cracked, thin… Unhealthy!

The sound of it causes an explosion in my chest. God! It's been about two weeks since I disappeared.

“Maria Sinclair on the line. Hello?”

NANA! I slap my hand to my mouth before I ruin things. A heavy sob threatens to burst out, and the second I end the call, I let it out.

Three months. Three freaking months and all of this will be over. I’ll execute my revenge, divorce Vincenzo, and live happily ever after with Nana.

Drinking more than I bargained for, I empty my last shot and walk back inside. With the help of Mr. James, I get to Vincenzo’s room. He doesn't respond when I knock, so I push the door open and let myself in. The room is empty, thankfully.

I start for the bathroom, in need of a bubble bath. The door unexpectedly opens, startling me to a pulp, and right in front of me is Vincenzo Moretti, naked and dripping wet!

Fuck!

I turn, too swiftly, spraining my ankle. Before I fall completely, his firm hand slips around my waist and slams me against his wet hairy chest!