Bond

Dante's Pov

I am surprised that she kissed me first, but I quickly recover, as I wrap my hand round her neck, just the way I remember she use to like, but a lot can change in ten years, so I loosen it, and look at her.

She whimpers, basically placing my hands on her neck, I laugh out loud like I just won the lottery.

I push her against the wall, making love to her mouth, hoping she rembey, hoping I remember.

"Dante." She gasps when I take a part of her beautiful milk, porcelain-like skin in my mouth, sucking in, hoping to leave an hickey.

She wraps her hands round my neck, one getting lost in my hair and the hand around her neck loosen as she pulls my hair.

Our bodies are meeting like old friends, we have been very much acquitted.

Lust flowing through my veins at an alarming rate, I push her back softly and her whiskey-coloured eyes looks at me, mirroring back my lust, we fit.

Wrapping my hand round her waist, I lift her up and she clings to me, her legs around my waist, pressing against my lenght, making me groan, as I wrap my hands round her halo, this f*****g hair, in my dream.

I smile at her, wasting away for me. I slam her on the bed, center her at the edge, then fall to my knees, getting ready to feast.

_____

The sunlight seeps into my closed eyes, and I groan, waking up, smiling as I remember all the ways I danced last night, till the midnight. All the sounds she made, the way I made her dance, the way she made me.

"Jesus Christ on a Motorbike, can someone close the f*****g blinds." She mutters, then fall right back to sleep.

I smile, getting up, closing the curtains, walking to the bathroom, to dry away under the shower, thinking about the various ways we go from here.

I hadn't seen Mila in ten years, since she broke up with me because of something she thinks she knows or saw. I was very surprised when my Mother brought up the idea.

_____ "Mother, I am quite busy now." I say when she walked in, glancing up from the laptop for a split second.

"I am quite aware of that, close the laptop, your mother is here." She says, sitting before me, and I sigh, closing the laptop.

"What is it?" I frown at her, my hands clasped before me.

My mother is Catherine Biogra, she was born to a very powerful but weak father who lost all her family's wealth, she watched her mother work for it, she became a very powerful and scary woman.

She rules and oversees every decision that our company makes, which means the losses and reviews did not pass her by.

"I have found a wife for you." She says and I narrow my eyes at her.

"Tell me." I say, Indulging her.

"She is Mila Dove Morandi." She says, and my own gets snapped into two.

"No."

"It wasn't a question." She says, dusting her suit.

"You are a thirty-five years old man, who, when I step down, will take charge. The masses need to trust you, and we are losing two very important demographic, the married and old folks, they don't like you, still see the f**k boy you pretend to be."

"We will reform your image. Mila is a beautiful and gentle girl, she was on the news last week, leading her family's company into glory, I want that."

"Mila is not gentle." I laugh dryly.

"I don't give a f**k. You will marry Mila Morandi, I know her, I trust her, I use to know her, and will like to know her more, up close."

"If I refuse?" I say, and she laughs.

"There's no 'or', no threat, my love. You will marry Mila Dove Morandi." ______

Here I am, married to Mila.

I walk out of the bathroom to see her seated on the bed, in an obvious bad mood.

"Morning." I say, cautious.

"Morning." She says.

"We are having an early lunch, then flying back to New York." I say, and she nods, walking to the bathroom without a word.

Well, I knew it was a one time thing. I will diligently delete last night from my memory.

______

"Shall we." She says, walking out in a dress I have now known to be satin.

"Yes." I say, walking towards the car.

"Have a nice day, Mrs. Morandi." The valet says and my blood boils.

"Thank you, Xavier."

She knows his f*****g name?

"She is Mrs. Gambino." I snap, and he practically runs away, better run.

"I am not taking your last name, Dante." She says cooly as Matt drives.

"You are, it's not up for discussion." I say, with a note of finality, but all she does it laugh.

"Do not overplay your role, Dante. You are my husband on paper only, and for your f****d up image, I am not taking your last name. Take away every delusion from your head."

I stare at her, my blood boiling.

"You were saying something different last night, Dove." I mock and she glares at me.

"I have no delusions. I never wanted to be married to you, Mila. You will take my last name." I say, getting out of the car, opening her door, and taking her hand, we are newly wed after all, we must be obsessed with each other.

______

"Here are the newly weds!" My brother Carlo whistles and I groan, he needs to shut the f**k up.

"Quiet, Carlo." Mom says, and I smile as we walk closer. She is sitting at the head of the table, while Dove's parents are at the other end.

"Congratulations, Dante." Her Father Leonardo says, when I greet him, her Mother smiles at me.

"Are you okay, Milly?" Her Sister, Isabella asks, and I glance at my Wife, pulling out the chair for her, she looks faint, a bit overwhelmed.

"Yes, ISA, just parched." She smiles at my Mom, holding the outstretched hand.

"Let's eat." I say and we dig in.

I am the eldest child, with four siblings. There is Carlo, who is thirty-three and oversees the Company's Finances, there is Domenico, who is thirty and runs our Tech Industry, with all his knowledge in the field.

Paolo, twenty eight, and in charge of Marketting and Advertising. Then, there is Lucia, the baby of the house, who is crowded by her four brothers. She is twenty-five and works directly under Mom.

I glance at Mila, then smile wide when I see the hickey on her neck.

Feeling mischievous, I lean in and whisper "There's a huge hickey on your neck, Wife.

I expected some form.of response, anger, even, but she says nothing, just picks at her food, with her head held up high.

Did what we did yesterday really f****d her up that much?

I catch Mom's eyes, and she is looking at me in amusement and a bit of warning.

"This was a very lovely dish, Cath." Leonardo says, and I sit up, knowing it's time for discussions.

I lean back and spread my legs, placing one hand on the table, with the other by myside.

"Thank you so much, Leo, I like to dabble around in the Kitchen. My new daughter deserves just the best." Mom says, and I glance at my wristwatch.

"Shall we begin?" Mom asks.

"Of course, let's." Alessandra, Dove's Mom smiles, and I wonder if Dove will have that timeless look.

She is the first child, and has three siblings. Lorenzo, Elisa and Isabella. We share similar burdens on our neck.

"The wedding's reception was postponed, not cancelled, we need to plan it, or that will be suspicious." Mom says, and I glance at Mila, who has a blank look on her face.

"I was think we throw it as a celebration, to commemorate like their month together." Elisa says, and Mom stares at her.

"Yes, that is such a nice idea, Mom, it could be like the start of something beautiful, in a wedding reception style." Lucia says, and Alessandra nods.

"A fabulous idea, girls. It could be even better if by then . . ." Alessandra trails off and Mom picks it up.

"Yes, if by then, Mila is with child."

Mila chokes on air, and my eyes bulge out of my head. What the f**k.

"f**k, Camilla." I say, rub her back softly.

"Can you not, Mom, Cath!" She yells the second she gets her bearing.

"It's a marriage, you are expected to eh. .consummate it." Her Dad stammers and she gasps as blood rush to her cheeks.

"Oh my God, can we stop or I will work out of here. It's bad enough that I have to be married to him, but consummating is, absolutely disgusting." She shudders, and I keep my eyes on her, before looking down, grouting my teeth, knowing fully well she was saying something else last night.

"Moving on." Paolo says, glancing at me, but I keep my face frozen, Mila's word ingrained into my memory.

"Since the wedding reception is decided, let's know what the Media is saying." Lorenzo says.

"They love them, every blog in the country taken up the story about their wedding, and the masses are eating it up. Some people are a bit skeptical, says it was put of the blue, but I was able to dig out some old pictures of them, like prom." He says, and I still.

"We are flying to New York, it's a long flight." I say, cutting Paolo off.

"Very well, few more minutes. Is it safe to say Mila will move into her office at Gambino?" Mom says.

"It's not. I am not changing my last name, neither am I working for you. I will keep my name and position, because we all know this is fleeting, I won't be left with nothing when the inevitable divorce comes."

Mom is stunned into silence, everyone is quiet while I grit my teeth, feeling the urge to punch something.

"You got married yesterday, you will keep that word away from your mouth. You will take the Gambino name." Her Mom states with the same tone that leaves no room for argument.

"New York is an eight hour flight." She simply says, getting up, then walks away. Her sisters follow her.

"Camila can be a bit like this, frequently." Her Dad says, and I look at him.

"You just have to be patient with her, give her some time to get used to everything as it is now."

"You used to be close, what happened?" Lorenzo asks, and I get up.

"Thank you for the food, Mom." With that, I walk out of there, only to see Mila crying, and being consoled by her sisters, talk about a knife to the heart.

I didn't realize being married to me was that bad, I am that bad?

I cough, getting their attention.

"Goodbye." They say to her, and the leave.

I get into the car, and sit, this is the begining of the rest of my life, with a woman who can not stand me, and cries.

______

I glance at her, seeing that she is still softly asleep. My eyes roam over her features, her beautiful milk skin, those halo of a hair, so white and so divine. Her eyes are the deepest brown, whiskey-coloured.

I glance at my phone, seeing different headlines about us, some even say she's pregnant.

"Stop manspreading, Dante." She says, and I look at her, her eyes startling me.

"Hm." I grunt, keeping my legs open.

Soon, we land, and are in the car, driving to how new home. I would have gladly stayed in my Penthouse is Soho, but Mom insisted that this place is domestic.

I don't like it, but looking at Mila, she seems to like it.