Chapter 3
1032 Words
The Wedding
The Maybach arrived the Morietti estate.
Marco stepped out of the car first and extended his hand to Alessia.
She turned aloof, refusing to take it.
"Alessia!" He thundered.
Turning towards him with hot tears in her eyes, she got off the car on her own.
They were greeted by a dark skinned man dressed in a pristine white shirt and dark trousers. His chiseled features and piercing eyes exuded a commanding presence and Alessia wondered who the man was.
His full pink lips curled into a smile. "Welcome home, Padré."
He turned to Alessia whose hands were fisted by her side.
Slowly, he reached Alessia's hand and planted a soft kiss on it. "Ah You must be Alessia. Welcome to Morietti estate. It is an honour to have you here."
Marco put his arm around her, pulling her to him. "That's enough, Jonathan."
Jonathan held up his hands in midair. "Easy there. You get too jealous."
"I believe you all are famished and tired from the travel. How about a nice warm bath and a meal? This way." Jonathan said with a smile.
Alessia followed him without a word.
She was led to a bedroom upstairs.
The bedroom was an opulent master suite. The polished hardwood floors reflected the light from the bulbs.
She stepped further in the room, looking at the ceiling
The furnishings were lavish and adorned the room. From the plush sofas, rich leather armchairs to the warm fire place, the room screamed luxury.
The expansive windows overlooked a manicured garden and a perfectly sculptured fountain that showcased exquisitive craftsmanship.
Alessia found it too lavish for one person alone. She took off her shoes and walked to the bed.
She laid on the bed and looked heavenward. The ceilings stared back at her.
There was quiet knock on the door. "Ma'am? Don Marco sent us here to help you."
As if realising Alessia was mute, the door was opened.
Two women dressed in a black and white maid gown. One of them had a red hair pulled back in a chignon, her hair as hung low and her hands clapsed her hands together in front of her.
While the other was a bit older. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Her eyes hung low and her hands were behind her.
Alessia sat up when she saw them.
"Ma'am, Don Marco sent us here to get you ready." The older maid said with a hand sign.
Alessia replied in the same manner. "Get me ready for what?"
"Your wedding, ma'am," The younger woman said.
Alessia's eyes went round. Wedding? What wedding? I just got here. She thought.
******
"You are going to be fine, Miss Alessia." Sara brushed her fingers along the white veil pinned to Alessia's crown.
The younger maid, had introduced herself to be Sara and the older one, Marie.
Marie took Alessia's hand and gave them a light squeeze. "Don't be afraid, Ma'am. He won't harm you. As long as you don't disobey him."
Alessia's eyes filled. She pulled them to herself in a warm hug. If only she would whisper to them to come with her. If only she could speak.
*****
The doors to the cathedral was held open and the congregation rose to their feet.
The classical rendition of "Here comes the bride" played on the organ as Alessia walked in.
She clutched the garland of roses in her hands as she approached the aisle.
"She's so beautiful." A woman whispered to her friend.
"Her father must be so proud of her. If only he could see this."
"I hear she's a good girl. She'll make a wonderful bride."
"Wonderful bride? How will Marco cope with a mute woman in his house?"
Alessia shut her eyes trying to drown out the gossip and the whispers.
She missed her step on the carpeted aisle and almost slipped. A strong arm caught hers, pulling her up.
A shudder escaped her lips as she looked at her saviour. His piercing hazel eyes, golden-brown hair and that familiar silhouette, Marco.
"Hold onto me." He said in a cold voice.
Alessia slowly linked arms with him.
He walked her to the altar and they stood, facing each other.
The priest began in a solemn voice. "Dearly beloved, we have gathered here on this auspicious day to witness the nuptial of Marco Dominic Morietti and Alessia Vera Bianchi."
He turned to Alessia. "Do you Alessia Bianchi take Marco Morietti to be your lawfully wedded husband to love and to hold in sickness and in - -
Marco interposed impatiently. "She does. Get on with it."
The priest was startled for a moment but he regained his composure.
"Um…Do you Marco Morietti take - -
"I do." Marco said immediately.
Alessia was startled. What's with the rushed vows and words? She wondered.
The ring bearer came along with the ring. Marco took the both rings in his hands.
"He desecrating a religious ceremony." Someone whispered.
Marco ignored them and slid the ring into Alessia's finger. Then, he placed the ring in his own finger.
"He exchanged the rings by themselves? What the?" An elderly man whispered in disbelief.
"That's Don Marco for you." A chuckle followed.
Alessia felt a cold metal band encircle her finger, a symbol of prison.
"You may kiss the bride." The priest palmed his forehead unsure of what to do next.
Marco's eyes gleamed with his smile as he lifted her veil.
Without a word, he reached his hand to cup her cheek. He leaned down his lips, claiming hers in a possessive kiss.
The congregation erupted with an applause.
His hands went down to her waist as he deepened the kiss. He pried her lips open and slid his tongue into her mouth. Alessia moaned into his lips and he grinned.
Marco pulled away from her and looked into her eyes as she heaved for breath.
They turned to face the guests. Alessia met her mother's hazel eyes. She applauded with the congregation and received compliments from the guests. Guests who didn't know she sold her own daughter to the mafia not just any mafia but a ruthless stranger.
- Writer
