The Don and His Russian Bride

Chapter 6

"Cara, you don't have to do that," said Carlotta as soon as she saw me rinsing off my dishes.

"I feel bad leaving you to clean up after me."

"It's my job. Don Martelli pays me and his other workers very well to clean up after everyone." She assured me.

"Do you like working for him?"

"Of course. He can be rough around the edges– he has to be with the lifestyle he leads– but he's always been appreciative of my cooking. There is so much good in him. He’s just hid it for so long after taking the position from his father."

"You worked for his father too? What was he like?"

"I'm sorry. I can’t tell you more. It’s not my place to share and Don Martelli doesn't like to talk about his father."

"I understand,” I said when what I really meant was, “Tell me everything! He doesn’t have to know!”

I refrained from shaking the information out of Carlotta. With Luciano far from ever opening up to me, she was my only way to learn more about his life prior to our wedding day. Her regard for Luciano’s privacy frustrated me, though I had to respect it.

I let Carlotta take over my dishes. After all, I needed to get ready for poker night.

Once I entered my room, I made my way over to the window. Cars had already begun coming up the driveway to the mansion.

If Luciano thought I would stay locked up like a good girl while he played with the boys, he was in for a shock. Being my husband didn’t give him the right to boss me around. I would do whatever and go wherever I pleased. Maybe I wanted to play with the boys too.

Opening my closet door revealed the maids had found places for all my new items. Skipping past the cashmere sweaters and evening gowns I had purchased for the hell of it, I went straight to the lingerie. Folded neatly in the middle of the drawer was the perfect black lace teddy.

Standing in front of the full length mirror in my teddy, I radiated confidence and sexiness. The neckline dipped down to nearly my belly button, showing off a generous amount of cleavage, and a small ribbon tied in a bow pulled the lace tight against my waist. It was sexy, but not as revealing as the other sets Luciano picked out for me.

If Luciano wanted to treat me like a plaything, then that’s what he would get.

I covered my lingerie by tucking a white blouse into a pleather skirt. Once I had on the tallest pair of black f**k me heels I could find, I looked ready to empty some pockets.

My heels clicked across the tiled floors in the hallways leading up to the billiards room. When I stepped inside, all eyes turned to me. The pool table from earlier was exchanged for a poker table. Six men in suits, including my husband, sat behind several stacks of poker chips. Their conversation in Italian ceased at my entrance.

I arrived just in time. The cards hadn’t been dealt yet. In my most seductive voice, I asked, “Can I join?”

My eyes skimmed past the line of reactions to focus on the one I cared about. A fire burned within Luciano’s dark hazel irises. While most of the heat came from his fury, I could detect a hint of desire as well from the dilation of his pupils.

“No. Go back upstairs, Katerina,” Luciano ordered. I briefly wondered what his men would think about Luciano’s treatment towards me. Would they view him any differently if they knew his wife wouldn’t sleep in the same bedroom with him.

“Come on, Boss. Let her play,” one of the men spoke up. “We’d love to get to know your wife better.”

Luciano directed a stony gaze at the man. Despite his assertion of power, the man did not back down. Showing any sign of weakness could ruin his credibility. He met Luciano’s stare with a rigid posture and shaky hands hid under the table.

“Just one game. Please?” Growing up in the Russia mafia, I learned the boss needed to exercise control in all things. If a boss could not control his wife, how could he be trusted to control the business and his men?

As if he thought this small victory could keep me satisfied, Luciano conceded. He turned towards the dealer. “Marco, pull up another chair and get the lady some chips.”

A chair was immediately brought out for me. I took a seat directly across from Luciano.

“Are you ready to lose your husband’s money?” the man to my right asked.

“Well, I think you all have so much money already. Why don’t we raise the stakes?” This comment earned me yet another glare from Luciano. I arranged my poker chips by color to show how unaffected I was.

“What do you propose?” the first man asked.

“Let’s make this into a game of strip poker. Those losing at the highest bid have to take off an item of clothing.”

"Absolutely not."

Before I could argue, Luciano stood and grabbed my arm, leading me out of the room.

“What the f**k do you think you’re doing?” he demanded to know.

“I’m just trying to make a good impression on your friends. I barely saw them at the wedding and I know so little about them.”

“You can quit the act. These aren’t men you want as friends. They are the most powerful and dangerous men within my business.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought them to the house.”

Luciano didn’t get another word in because I moved past him back into the billiards room. The night couldn’t end before it began. I hadn’t planned on him getting this angry before the poker game even started.

The tension in the room rose exponentially as Luciano and I took our seats across from each other. With everyone at the table, Marco dealt each person their cards to begin.

As the men had come in their suits, ties were the first article of clothing to be removed. The cards in my hand had little value the first several rounds, causing me to fold each time. My eyebrows furrowed as Luciano would always fold shortly after I did.

A straight flush finally entered my hand during the fifth round. I continued raising the bet, knowing the chips would come right back to me. Again, Luciano mimicked me. He matched my bets until we were the only two with cards in hand.

When I laid out my straight flush, Luciano revealed his pair of aces. He loosened his tie without hesitation. I had never seen him play poker before, but I doubted he was this bad when I wasn’t there.

Heat coursed through my blood as I realized what he was doing. If he bet worse cards than mine, I wouldn’t have to undress. In his mind, he was protecting me. But I didn’t want protection from a man who thought no one should objectify me unless it was him. He made it clear he wanted to see my lingerie this morning, so he was going to see it.

The next deal, my hand held three of a kind. I placed my bet, completely aware of how easy it could be to beat my hand.

My eyes roamed the table. The man two seats to my right pushed his chips to the center with ease. Earlier in the game, he rubbed his thick mustache whenever his cards were less than satisfactory. This time he sat back with relaxed shoulders, interested only in watching how big his pile could get.

Mustache raised his eyebrows at me when I raised the bet. I was the last person he expected to contest him. Mustache’s cards were better than mine. I was counting on it.

More bets were placed until there were three of us left: me, Luciano, and Mustache. Since none of us would fold, we completed our bets before flipping our cards over. Once again, Luciano had a terrible hand. He pushed off his jacket as soon as his cards turned face up.

With pride, I showed off my three of a kind next to Mustache’s full house. Luciano could’ve seared a hole into the table with his fiery glare directed at my cards. It didn’t take him long to figure out what I had been trying to do.

I lifted my chin as I began unbuttoning my shirt. I felt Luciano’s heated gaze move to my skin. When I revealed the black lace of my teddy, Luciano erupted. He stood up and slammed his hands down. The green felt muffled the sound, but the table shook from the impact.

“Everyone out– now!”

“But the game–”

Luciano wouldn’t let him finish. “I don’t give a s**t! We’re done playing tonight. Get out of my house.”

A few looks were exchanged before the men followed their orders from their boss. Grumbling from the hallway could be heard from the table as they left.

Without buttoning up to cover my cleavage, I stood and straightened my skirt. Only a few meters from the door, Luciano stopped me.

“Not you.”

I turned on my heel to face him before letting out a huff. “What is your deal?”

“My deal is that my wife wants to undress in front of other men.”

I scoffed, noticing the way his jaw clenched and his fists were turning white. His Broadway performance made my act look like an elementary school play. “You and I both know the title, wife, means nothing here.”

“We are legally married.”

“I don’t care what a piece of paper says! You are not my husband!”

“Yes. I. Am.” His teeth grinded together between words. “And like it or not, you are my wife.”

“Really? Because, the way I see it, I’m just another object to you. You bought me lingerie for your own selfish desires. But guess what? I’m not a toy meant for your pleasure, and I’m not a piece of property you can boss around!”

“I don’t think of you as an object. You are more than that to me.”

“You’re full of shit.”

His eyelids fell shut as he leaned forward on the poker table. He drew in a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he stepped around the table in a calm manner. The thought crossed my mind that I would rather he shout at me from afar than speak to me up close.

“I’m trying to be patient because this is all very new to you. Do not raise your voice at me because next time, there will be consequences. You took a vow committing yourself to me, which is why it is unacceptable for any man other than me to see you naked. Do you understand?”

If I were the perfect, obedient wife he wanted, I would nod my head and say, “Yes, sir.” But that wasn’t me. I was the girl who said, “I do”, because, at the time, my survival depended on it. This time, I chose the power that came with walking away.