Chapter 6
1144 Words
Chapter 6.
THE WEDDING NIGHT 1.
——♣——
As they moved in sync with the soft rhythm of the music, Angelo’s gaze swept over her. Truth be told, he hadn’t really taken a proper look at her until now. During the vows, he’d been too stunned to process anything.
But here, in the quiet intimacy of the dance, he finally saw her… really saw her. And by the heavens, she was even more beautiful than he remembered.
The dress clung to her skin like a second layer, hugging every curve shamelessly. Scarlet red, seductive and bold, it made her look like a goddess of temptation. Like a seductress, a temptress.
And the golden highlights on the dress shimmered against the fabric, catching the light as they danced, blending effortlessly with her golden-blonde hair.
Millicent Romano.
Yes, she was stunning. Breathtaking, even. But beneath the elegance and glittering jewels, Angelo knew what truly lurked beneath the surface.
Under it all was nothing but a traitor and a liar.
She wasn’t just the woman who broke him, she was a backstabber, a gold digger who wouldn't think twice to literally stab you for a little cash. And now that she was his wife, he mentally vowed to never let his guard down.
Not even for a second.
Any trace of desire in his eyes vanished, swallowed by the reemergence of bitter hatred.
Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. “How much?”
Millicent's brows furrowed. “How much for what?”
“How much were you paid to marry me?” His voice was low, sharp.
He felt her body go tense, her hands stiffening where they rested on his shoulders.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” he sneered, drawing her closer until his hand rested just above the curve of her backside.
“Keep your filthy hands to yourself,” she hissed.
“Why?” he asked with mocking curiosity, deliberately provoking her. “I only asked a simple question based on your usual habits. Or are you too ashamed to answer?”
“You’re sick,” she whispered sharply and then pressed the sharp heel of her shoe into his foot.
Angelo’s jaw clenched.
This little kitten.
He responded by tightening his grip around her waist. “I’d rethink that if I were you. You're the last person I’d willingly touch. You disgust me, Millicent. And I promise you, this marriage? It’ll be hell. I hope whatever they paid you was worth it, because you’ll need every cent to survive me.”
He leaned in, voicing a low threat in her ear. “Try not to provoke me, Cara. My patience has limits.”
And with that, he spun her around sharply, right into the awaiting arms of her father.
“Enjoy your father-daughter dance,” he muttered coldly before walking away, not sparing her a second glance.
Millicent stumbled slightly as she landed in the arms of her father, suppressing the gasp that nearly escaped her lips.
Right on cue, the hosts announced the start of the traditional father-daughter dance. The violinists shifted into a softer note, and like the mafia princess she had to be, Millicent plastered a fake smile and began to dance.
But every part of her burned with the desire to crush the man holding her.
"Why the sour face?" Salvatore whispered with a smug look. "Do you want people to think you’re unhappy?"
Millicent resisted the urge to glare. "Maybe that’s what happens when someone is blackmailed into marriage and assigned to kill her groom."
"Shut it," Salvatore hissed, still smiling for the crowd. "You know what’s at stake. Don’t make me remind you."
She clenched her jaw. "You won’t get away with this."
Salvatore spun her with practiced ease, leaning in. "Oh, figlia mia... I already have.”
Seconds later, the music faded and was replaced by a more cheerful tune as guests began to drift onto the dance floor. At the edge of the courtyard, the Dons of various empires stood, no doubt discussing business under the disguise of celebration.
"You should go join them," she said curtly, motioning to the group with her chin. "I’m done playing the obedient daughter."
Without waiting for his response, Millicent slipped through the crowd, ignoring the fake smiles and shallow compliments that clung to her like oxygen.
But just as she moved, she collided with someone.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” the stranger said quickly.
She looked up and blinked in surprise.
A young man with striking blue hair, dressed in a blue suit… and wearing a matching blue earring??
Wow… talk about consistency.
What a head-to-toe coordination.
“Are you alright?” he asked gently.
"Um… yes. I’m fine," she managed.
"I… I should get going," he added, offering her a small, awkward smile before stepping back and releasing her hand.
Well…That was strange. Not the man, but the way she felt around him.
There was something about him. Something familiar. As though he filled a space she didn’t even know was empty… like a shadow of a memory.
Had she met him before?
"You’re just tired, Millicent," she muttered to herself, brushing the thought aside as she continued walking.
After several minutes of wandering through the vast estate, she finally stumbled upon a garden.
"Finally," she breathed ,"a moment of peace."
"Well, well… look who’s come hiding."
The voice made her stiffen.
Of course.
She turned slowly, already sighing. "I guess I spoke too soon."
Maria Romano.
She stood smugly, arms folded and lips curled into a bitter smile. Salvatore’s mistress and of course, the mother of the boys.
"What do you want, Maria?"
Maria scoffed. "What do I want? Maybe you should be explaining what you’re doing here, wandering around alone while your new husband is left... unattended."
Millicent rolled her eyes. "I didn’t realize my whereabouts were any of your concern.”
"Such a naïve little girl," Maria clicked her tongue mockingly. "The bride disappears during her own wedding, then what happens at the wedding night? He might just find comfort elsewhere. With someone more…how shall I put it… submissive."
"Oh? Like you?" Millicent snapped. "The other woman who wrecked someone else's home?"
Maria’s smirk never faltered. If anything, it grew sharper. "Touché. But at least I knew how to keep a man satisfied. Can you say the same for yourself or… your mother?"
Millicent’s eyes narrowed into anger.
Maria, pleased with herself, turned to leave. "Anyway, enjoy your little pity party. I’m sure he already is." She said, sarcastically.
And just like that, Maria was gone, leaving behind the bitter scent of her disgusting perfume.
Millicent stood there, frozen.
Of all the cruel things Maria had said, one word kept echoing in her mind:
Wedding night.
Her…And Angelo?
Together?
She swallowed hard, her chest tightening.
Fuck!!
- Writer
