Underworld Oat

I bolted when a woman kissed my husband. I was a sad bride hiding in a room designated for our bridal party, not a beautiful bride radiant in layers of tulle and taffeta. I was buried in layers of agony as I sat in the center of the couch. My marriage was arranged. My groom did not captivate my heart. But my romantic, hopeful heart was crushed as I saw a lady kiss him where my lips had been moments before. That he would fall deeply in love with me one day. We would live happily ever after one day. "Why are you in this place?" My hearing was muffled by tears, so I couldn't hear the door opening. I moved towards the end of the couch, away from Mamma, as though it would protect me from her sharp criticism. I was too broken to meet her high expectations, especially since I thought my tears had undone the precision of my makeup application. "Cattie" My back was whipped by her no-haughty speech. "Everyone is trying to find you!" I turned around as soon as her hand touched my shoulder." What is the reason for your—" Her horrified expression just reinforced my suspicions. "Oh my God." I managed to fake a smile that would appease Mamma's social mores, but her unwavering disapproval informed me I had failed. "Am I really that ugly?" Her lips became tense. She pulled me off the couch and dragged me over to the group of seats facing the homemade mirrors. "If someone came upon you in this way.." She left it hanging. The things she chose not to say had less weight than her silence. My mother, Eileen Gomez, a former beauty queen and the wife of the don of the Bulldoun mafia, the most powerful criminal organization in Italy, deserves everything to be flawless." Is that woman involved in this?" After grabbing the cotton balls and soaking one in eye makeup remover, she began cleaning away the remnants of my tears. We had a team of makeup professionals, but I knew Mamma didn't want them to see me look bad and then started chatting about it afterward. Mamma was all about appearances and pride. I looked in my mirror, and instead of the social bride they anticipated me to be, I looked like a relative to a raccoon. I twisted my rings and closed my eyes as I submitted to Mamma's manipulations. I knew the engagement ring mocked me even before I saw its enormous diamond. Mamma sighed, "It's bad taste that she's here." However, I didn't see anything improper coming from Sebastian. Sebastian Romeris is my partner. The morning dawned with great anticipation and expectation. There was anxiety, but it was primarily based on uncertainty. When I saw him with his ex-girlfriend, mistress, or whatever term people used to refer to her these days—the woman a mobster kept on the side—I wasn't sure how to respond. "I warned you to anticipate it," My forced laugh was laced with bitterness. How about it, Mama? Please give me some space. My wedding is today. I didn't anticipate being told what the regulations were. Slapping was a little exaggeration. I had just come out from the bathroom, where I had reapplied lipstick in preparation for the cake-cutting, gartering and bouquet-throwing. I saw Sebastian talking to his consigliere at the entrance to the hallway. I lingered to view my gorgeous groom for a brief moment. She then sauntered in. She approached him casually and kissed him on the mouth, pressing her body against his. The feelings that ripped at my chest were too strong to describe. It was humiliating. It was betrayal and hurt. Betrayed myself by giving way to my romantic fantasies. Sebastian's betrayal, as I was his wife and should have been treated with respect. He had been a devoted fiancé. I was, of course, fond of him, even infatuated with intense passion. A flurry of dinner dates, flowers, chocolates, and lavish gifts characterized our hasty courtship. For those in luck, an arranged marriage brings them love. And I had hoped. It was too soon to be romantic. However, our life together was meant to begin today. It was meant to be flawless. Mamma twirled me around, glaring at the ideas in my mind. "Daughter." Now hear me out and comprehend. You got married to a strong man. Women adore strong men. I mentioned this to you. They will inevitably stray. You learned how to hold them from me. You are the one wearing the ring, so keep in mind that the redhead is just trying to see if she can take him away from you. In the end, all that matters is that you have the status of being his wife. Mamma had instilled this terrible perspective on marriage in me from the moment I got my first period. I kept my romance novels hidden from her since she laughed at them all. "Give him kids," she continued. "Ideally, a son." All they had was me, a daughter who was just like her mother, and I winced. She attempted to shape me into her ideal. She used to make me wear the boldest crimson lipstick when my skin was too pale. She didn't like how thick and dark my brows were, so they'd been tweezed or bleached to almost nothing. Although I was naturally brunette had changed to blonde when I was sixteen. I had forgotten what it meant to be a brunette. Mamma was in her element doing makeup on a lecture train, as usual, and she didn't realize that by not giving Papà a male heir, she had degraded herself. Sebastian's niece Vera, my maid of honor, entered the room as the door opened. The majority of my family members were unable to travel to Chicago for the last-minute nuptials. Mamma had to organize an organization so quickly that I was concerned for her health, but my marriage to Sebastian was meant to support Papà's organization while it recovered from my cousin's attempted coup.