A Deal With The Italian Mafia

Chapter 5 — Here Comes the (Reluctant) Bride

I should have eaten something.

Not that I had much of an appetite this morning—I mean, who would in this situation? But standing here, seconds away from walking down the aisle, I was seriously regretting skipping breakfast.

My legs felt wobbly. My hands were clammy. And my stomach? Oh, my stomach was doing the kind of flips that would make an Olympic gymnast jealous.

Deep breath, girl. It’s fine. Just walk. One foot in front of the other. No big deal.

The wedding coordinator peeked at me from behind the massive cathedral doors. “Ready?”

No. Absolutely not. In fact, I was strongly considering faking a fainting spell right now. What the hell was I thinking, proposing a fake marriage? This was the 100th time I regretted this.

But instead of doing just what I thought, I gave a weak nod. I still wanted to live.

And just like that, the doors opened, and a million pairs of eyes turned to me.

Okay, that’s exaggerating, but still, there were quite a number.

I swallowed hard and took my first step to my doom.

The music played a gentle tone, almost like this was a lovers' wedding. I was almost tempted to tell them to change that music.

My heels clicked against the marble floor, the sound impossibly loud. Every step forward was another reminder that there was no backing out now.

Halfway down the aisle—though I'm not sure how I got this far without fainting yet—I made the horrible mistake of looking up.

Alessino stood at the altar, perfectly still, watching me with that infuriating, unreadable expression.

The kind of look that suggested he was bored of this, and that infuriated me.

My fingers clenched around my bouquet. I wanted to throw it at him. Just to see if I could get a reaction.

But on second thought, I kept walking, each step bringing me closer to the man who had turned my life upside down.

When I finally reached him, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. He didn’t say a word, just took my hands and turned me to face the priest as if he was eager to get this over with.

Well, that makes two of us.

I lifted my chin and placed my hands on his, giving him a fake smile, and turned to face the altar.

Well, let’s do this.

The priest was going on and on about love and being there for each other. I was close to falling asleep there, and my legs hurt.

I sneaked a glance at Alessino beside me, and—damn, is that an expression on his face?

Even though he looked like he was about to sew the priest’s mouth shut, at least that was a reaction.

And just when it looked like he was finally going to snap, the priest ended with, “It’s time to exchange your rings.”

I almost hugged him out of happiness.

We exchanged our rings, even though the ring fell from my hands more than ten times.

Oh, that wasn’t intentional at all—I was just too nervous.

And then it came to the dreaded "You may kiss your bride."

Yes, dreaded.

Because this was going to be my first kiss.

And I was having it with my kidnapper.

But I had no choice because hundreds of eyes were watching us.

While still thinking of a way to avoid this and keep my first kiss, Alessino draped an arm around my waist, drawing me closer.

And before I could blink, his lips were on mine.

My eyes popped open like a sucker, and in less than a second, he pulled back.

But I stood there, too stunned to move an inch.

Did I just black out?

Because one second, I was contemplating ways to dodge this kiss, and the next—his lips were on mine.

Alessino pulled away like nothing even happened.

Like he didn’t just kiss me on the lips.

Meanwhile, I was still here malfunctioning.

“Breathe,” Alessino whispered to me while turning to face the people.

I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding and turned around to face the people.

I forced my legs to move as Alessino took my hand and led me down the aisle, away from the altar and toward the grand exit as people clapped.

Some even smiled at us like this was a romantic wedding instead of a glorified hostage situation.

Vivienne was waiting near the doors, her expression carefully neutral, but I swore I saw her lips twitching.

Oh, she was enjoying this way too much.

“You looked beautiful up there,” she whispered as I passed.

I glared at her. “Shut up.”

She just grinned. “Oh, and nice recovery from the whole ring-dropping fiasco. Very smooth.”

Alessino, still holding my hand, didn’t so much as glance at me as he led me outside.

I, on the other hand, was still replaying The Kiss in my head.

Not because it was amazing, not because I wanted to, but because my brain was stubborn and refused to let it go.

And maybe—just maybe—I was losing my mind.

Because I could still feel it.

The ghost of his lips on mine, the way his hand had pressed against my waist, and the way he’d pulled back before I could even process what was happening.

Snap out of it, girl.

I shook my head, determined to erase the memory as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

Because just as we reached the car taking us to the reception, Alessino leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

“You looked like you were about to pass out back there,” he murmured. “Should I have kissed you longer?”

I choked on my own spit.

Just as I was going to reply, he pulled away, opened the car door, and got inside—all while looking like he didn't just drop a bomb sentence.

I stood there, too shocked to move.

Oh wow, the number of times I’ve been shocked by him today is alarming.

Is he trying to give me a heart attack?

“Are you planning to sleep there?”

I quickly snapped out of it and got in the car.

The moment we stepped into the reception hall, we were surrounded by mafia dons and their wives and a hundred other dangerous people I didn’t want to be near. They all smiled, all too polite, but the air was thick with power plays and hidden threats.

I barely had a second to breathe before a glass of champagne was shoved into my hand.

“To the happy couple!” one of the wives cooed, clinking her glass against mine.

“To love and loyalty,” another added.

I forced a smile, even though my stomach twisted. Love and loyalty? Right. More like fear and obedience.

I had no idea how things worked for these women—if they were here by choice or trapped like me. But judging from some of their glassy eyes and tight smiles, I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one faking it tonight.

“Drink, dear,” one of them urged sweetly. “It’ll help.”

I hesitated. Then—screw it.

I clicked my glass with theirs and took a sip. Then another. And another.

And before I knew it—I was drunk.

(Alessino’s POV)

I knew Emilia was gone when she giggled at absolutely nothing, swaying slightly as we made our way through the last of the guests. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy, and she had a lazy, satisfied smile on her lips—like she wasn’t in the middle of her own forced wedding reception but rather some dreamland where everything was hilarious.

“I think I love champagne,” she announced, barely walking straight.

“You’re done drinking,” I muttered in an annoyed tone, guiding her toward the exit.

“Bossy,” she slurred, reaching up and poking my chest. “I don’t like bossy men.”

I scooped her up and threw her over my shoulder before she could embarrass me any further.

“Put me down!” she shrieked, kicking weakly.

“Not happening.”

Her fists pounded against my back. “This is kidnapping! Again!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This woman.

By the time we reached the hotel suite, she was still mumbling drunken nonsense under her breath. I carried her straight to the massive bed and threw her onto it.

“Sleep,” I ordered, undoing my cuffs.

“Don’t wanna,” she huffed, rolling around on the bed like a kid.

God, why didn’t I just dump her on the road instead of having to deal with this? Oh right, this was all for show—because of her father. Who knew? He might have been watching, even though I had my men on the lookout.

I turned away, planning to go to another room and rest. I had only had a few glasses, yet I didn’t know why I felt hot and tipsy.

She dragged my shirt back, catching me off guard. I barely had time to react before my body crashed onto hers.

Her fingers curled around my shirt, her lips parted, her drunken haze making her even more seductive than usual.

“Emilia,” I warned, my voice coming out rough. s**t. What was happening to me? Was I drugged?

My control snapped the moment she kissed me.

I should have pulled away. I should have stopped this.

But when she sighed against my lips, her body arching into mine—f**k it.

I growled, my hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer. The kiss turned hungry, desperate, her fingers clawing at my shirt, her warmth searing into me.

She gasped as I flipped her beneath me, my lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then down her throat.

She tasted like champagne. I should stop—but I couldn’t.

Her dress was getting in my way, so I tore it off, and the same went for my shirt.

Every touch, every movement, every moan that left her lips dragged me deeper into madness.

And when she whispered my name, breathless and wanting—I lost myself completely.

(Emilia’s POV)

I woke up with a splitting headache and the overwhelming feeling that I had made a terrible mistake.

The sunlight stabbed at my eyes, my body ached in places I didn’t want to think about, and worst of all—I wasn’t alone.

A slow, sinking dread crept over me as I turned my head, and—oh s**t.

Alessino was asleep beside me, in barely anything but just his boxers. And damn, that six-pack was hot.

I gave myself a slap immediately. No. No. Focus, woman. This is not the time to drool over your kidnapper-husband.

Then, memories of last night hit me. His lips on my skin. His hands gripping my waist. The way he had whispered my name, deep and rough, as he—

Nope. Nope. NOPE. We’re not thinking about that.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe this was a bad dream. Maybe if I lay back down and pretended hard enough, I’d wake up in my own bed. Maybe this whole marriage, the wedding, the kiss, the reception, the—

No. It happened. All of it.

And now, here I was—naked, sore, and in bed with the man who had kidnapped me.

A small, unstable laugh almost slipped from my lips. I'm never drinking alcohol again.

I turned my gaze back to Alessino, still asleep, still annoyingly perfect, and a thought crossed through my mind.

I sat up fast, my eyes snapping to the door. If there was ever a chance to escape, this was it. This was a hotel. There were no guards, no locked doors. If I could just get out of here before he woke up…

I knew this was dangerous. If he caught me, he might just kill me immediately. But I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by.

So, I moved fast, slipping out of bed. I quickly put on his shirt with shaky hands as I ignored the soreness between my legs. Sorry about that, but you can do without a shirt. You're too hot anyway.

I tiptoed to the door, my fingers wrapping around the doorknob, and just as I twisted it slowly—freedom just inches away—

A cold voice had me frozen in place.

“Where do you think you’re going?”