Sleeping with the Enemy

Chapter 2: The Devil in the Dressing Room

"You are pulling it too tight, Maria," I complained, grabbing the edge of the vanity table.

"The Don said it must be perfect," Maria replied, pulling the thick laces of my corset even harder.

"I cannot breathe!" I snapped, slapping her hands away. "Leave it alone. I am already in the dress. Just go."

Maria frowned but stepped back. "The music starts in ten minutes, Siena. Do not mess up your hair."

She walked out of the church small dressing room, shutting the heavy wooden door behind her. I heard the lock click from the outside and I was glad to be finally alone.

I looked at myself in the large mirror. The white wedding dress was beautiful, but the corset squeezed my ribs so hard I couldn't breath fine. My dark hair was pinned up perfectly. My face was covered in a thick layers of expensive makeup to hide the red mark my father’s hand had left on my cheek yesterday.

I reached down and opened the small, white silk pouch tied to my wrist and touched the cold metal of the silver bullet. I had hidden it there this morning. It was a sick reminder that the Phantom Boss was already in control of my life.

I closed the pouch and let out a shaky breath.

Then, I heard a sound that made me freeze.

Click. The heavy deadbolt on the door unlocked.

I spun around, my heart curling around my chest. "Maria, I told you I need a minute!"

The heavy door slowly pushed open, but it was not the tailor.

Instead it was a man that stepped out of the dark hallway and into my dressing room.

He closed the door behind him and locked the deadbolt again.

It was him! Luca Moretti.

He was incredibly tall, his broad shoulders filling out a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. He did not look like a groom but a killer in a very expensive suit.

"You are not supposed to be in here," I said quickly as I forced my chin up, refusing to let him see how badly my hands were shaking. "Get out. It is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

Luca did not smile. His cold blue eyes slowly moved up and down my body. "I make my own luck, Siena." he said.

His voice was so deep that it vibrated through the quiet room and went straight to my stomach.

"Well, my father’s men are standing right outside," I lied. "If I scream, they will come in."

"No, they will not," Luca said simply. He took a slow step toward me, His black leather dress shoes were completely silent on the floor. "Your father's men are gone. My men are guarding the doors now. I own this church today."

"You bought my father's contract," I shot back, gripping the table behind me. "You did not buy me."

A dark amusement flashed in his eyes. "You have a sharp tongue. Your father told me you were a quiet, obedient girl who would not cause me any trouble."

"My father is a liar," I said bitterly. "And he is a coward by the way you already know that, don't you? Since your men can easily break into his secure house yesterday just to leave a threat on my bed."

Luca stopped a few feet away from me. "It was not a threat princess. It was a promise and Did you keep it?"

I lifted my chin up higher. "I threw your bullet in the trash."

"You are lying," he stated as he took another step closer. The sheer size of him was overwhelming. "Your heart is beating so fast I can see it in your neck. You kept it didn't you, Where is it?"

"I don't have it," I argued.

"Where is it, Siena?" he asked again, this time his voice dropping lower.

"In my pouch," I admitted quietly. I hated that I answered him, but his demanding tone pulled the truth right out of my mouth.

"Good girl," he murmured.

"Do not talk to me like I am a dog," I snapped. "Why are you here, Luca? The wedding starts in exactly five minutes. Could you not wait to ruin my life at the altar?"

"I wanted to see what I bought," he said simply, staring at my face. He frowned slightly tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he looked at my left cheek. "Come here."

"No."

"Siena. Come here."

"I am not moving," I said stubbornly.

Luca didn't argue cause why would he, He just walked toward me like a predator. prompting me to stepped backward, but my back hit the cold glass mirror and I was trapped.

Luca stepped directly into my personal space. The intense body heat coming off his body was intense. He raised his arms and placed his hands flat against the mirror on both sides of my head, completely caging me in.

"You are shaking," he whispered. He leaned his face down until he was just inches away from me.

"I am angry," I lied. "I hate you."

"I do not care if you hate me," Luca said softly.

He raised his right hand using his thumb to roughly rub against my left cheek.

"Stop it!" I gasped, trying to turn my head. "You are ruining my makeup!"

"That is the point," he said. He rubbed harder, wiping away the thick layer of foundation. He stared at the dark purple and red bruise my father had left on my skin.

The dark amusement in his eyes vanished instantly. His face turned completely cold. A terrifying, deadly anger rolled off his body.

"Who did this?" he demanded. His voice was no longer a smooth whisper; it was a growl.

I swallowed hard. "I fell down the stairs."

"Do not lie to me again," Luca warned. He grabbed my chin, holding my face still so he could inspect the bruise. His leather glove was rough against my jaw, but his grip was surprisingly gentle. "A hand made this mark. Did your father hit you?"

I looked away from his intense eyes. "It does not matter and it is none of your business."

"You are my wife today," Luca said fiercely. "Everything about you is my business. Did he hit you?"

"Yes," I finally whispered. "We had a fight about the wedding. He slapped me. Are you happy now?"

Luca’s jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck flexed. "I am going to kill him."

My eyes widened in shock. "What? No! We have a truce!"

"The truce means I do not shoot his soldiers," Luca said coldly, his thumb lightly brushing the edge of the bruise. "It does not mean I will let him put his hands on what is mine. No one hurts you, Siena. Not even him,Do you understand?"

I stared at him, completely confused. My heart was strangely warm, My father had traded me away without a second thought, but this dangerous mafia boss was ready to commit murder just because someone slapped my face. It was completely twisted, but it made me feel protected for the first time in my life.

"You do not have to protect me," I said softly.

"Yes, I do," he replied. "It is my job now."

He slowly pulled his right hand away from my face. He grabbed the fingers of his black leather glove with his teeth and pulled it off, tossing the expensive leather onto the table. His bare hand was huge, his knuckles were bruised, and his skin was covered in small, faded scars from years of street fighting.

He slowly reached his bare hand out toward me again.

"Do not touch me," I whispered.

"I will touch you whenever I want," Luca said, his voice dropping lower.

His rough, calloused fingers gently brushed against the bare skin of my shoulder. A violent shiver ripped through my entire body and I gasped softly. His touch was not painful, but it was incredibly possessive.

He slowly traced his large thumb down my collarbone, moving toward the deep cut of my dress and stopped right above my cleavage.

"You are breathing too fast," he said, looking down at my chest.

"I can't help it," I said, my voice shaking.

"The corset is too tight. Maria wouldn't loosen it."

"Turn around," he commanded.

"What? No."

"Siena, turn around," he repeated. "You are going to pass out before you reach the altar."

I hesitated, but I slowly turned my body, facing the mirror. Luca stepped up directly behind me. His solid chest pressed flush against my back.

His large hands grabbed the tight laces at the back of my dress. He did not struggle with the knots. He just grabbed the thick strings and pulled hard. The thick laces snapped with a loud tearing sound.

The tight corset instantly released. I gasped loudly, finally pulling a full, deep breath.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a low rumble right beside my ear.

"Yes," I breathed out, gripping the edge of the table. "Thank you.”

"Do not thank me," Luca murmured. He did not step back. Instead, he wrapped his large arms around my waist, pulling my back tightly against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of my neck. "I just want you fully awake for our wedding night."

A deep, heavy ache rested between my thighs. My skin felt flushed and burning hot.

"You think I am just going to sleep with you because a priest tells me to?" I asked, challenging him in the mirror. "You think I will just submit to you?"

Luca met my eyes in the mirror. "I do not want a submissive wife, I want a fighter. Fight me tonight, Siena. I will enjoy pinning you to the bed."

My breath hitched loudly in the silent room. My lips parted slightly on their own. I was terrified of him, but the physical heat of his body pressed against mine was completely intoxicating.

"I am not a piece of property, Luca," I said, refusing to look away from his dark eyes.

"You might own my father's contract, but you will never actually own me."

Luca’s eyes darkened instantly. The cold, calculating look vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense flash of raw, possessive hunger.

"We will see about that, little bird," he murmured.

As he slowly unwrapped his arms from my waist. He took a small step back, giving me room to breathe. The sudden loss of his body heat left me feeling cold and completely empty.

He reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.

"Your neck is bare," Luca said, his voice returning to that flat, emotionless tone. "A mafia bride should wear jewelry on her wedding day. People will talk."

"My father refused to buy me any," I said, turning back around to face him.

"I know," Luca said. "He is a cheap bastard. So, I brought you a wedding gift."

He pulled a heavy silver chain out of his pocket. Dangling from the center of the chain was a large, vintage silver locket. It was beautifully engraved with intricate flowers.

My heart completely stopped staring at the necklace in his big hands.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "That is impossible."

I recognized the delicate floral engraving instantly. I had spent hours staring at old photographs of it hidden in my room.

It was my mother’s locket.

It was the exact same locket my mother was wearing on the night she was brutally murdered fifteen years ago. The police said the killers stole it. My father always told me it was lost forever.

"Where did you get that?" I choked out. My voice was shaking with absolute horror and shock. "Tell me right now! How do you have my mother's necklace?"

Luca did not answer my question. He stepped forward, easily reaching his large arms around my neck. I was too stunned to even push him away. He fastened the silver clasp at the back of my neck. The heavy, cold metal of my dead mother's locket settled right over my racing heart.

He smoothed his hands over my bare shoulders one last time, his thumb pressing deeply into my racing pulse point.

"I know exactly what you are really looking for, Siena," Luca whispered. He stared directly into my eyes. "And I know the deadly secrets your father is hiding from you."

"Tell me what you know!" I demanded, grabbing the edge of his tuxedo jacket.

"We have a wedding to get to," Luca said. He easily pulled my hands off his jacket.

"Keep the necklace on."

Before I could demand more answers, Luca turned around and walked across the room, unlocked the heavy wooden door, and stepped out into the hallway without looking back.

The door clicked shut behind him.

I stood frozen. My hands flew up to clutch the silver locket around my neck.

My chest heaved as panic and realizatio

n crashed over me like a massive wave.

The dangerous man I was about to marry in less than two minutes didn't just buy me to win a mafia war.

Luca Moretti held the key to my mother’s death.