Blood & Marriage (Dark Mafia Romance) (6 page)

So I’d been thrown into a tank of poisonous fish, with
immunity to only a fraction of them. But as scary as it was, I appreciated Santo’s
honesty and squeezed his forearm as he led me toward my bedroom. Maybe it was a
shark like him I needed to keep away the piranhas. At this rate, I couldn’t
wait to have my own house, where I could have more privacy.

“Thank you. I’m afraid I’d drown here without someone to
guide me.”

He opened the door for me as if he were a gentleman, not the
predator in human skin I knew he was. “I just feel you don’t deserve to drown.
You’re trying to do your duty, and I respect that.” But as soon as we were
alone in my room, his ‘respectful’ hand went all the way to my ass and squeezed
it, before he let go of me.

I froze, looking away from him, but as long as he was there,
so close to me I could easily touch him, the room itself disappeared into the
background, despite its impressive size and fresh, modern style that could had
been taken straight from my Pinterest home inspiration board. “This is all very
nerve-racking.”

Santo stepped closer, that cocky attitude right back in
place. “You need to unwind then, let off some steam.” And I knew exactly what
he meant when his hand slid to my hip.

Stepping away, I caught his gaze, pinning him in place with
as much willpower as I could muster. In my head, we were watched, and I
couldn’t afford to make another misstep. “I can’t.”

But Santo unbuttoned his suit jacket and followed me, never
taking his eyes off me. “It’s not like you’re married yet.”

“But I will be. Things are already too complicated,” I told
him, moving back to keep the same distance between us. I couldn’t tell whether
his behavior scared or excited me. This blurred line was what could cost me
much more than I could afford to lose.

“But you wish they weren’t. You wish we could lie down,” he
pointed with his head to the large white bed, “and spend all night there.” His
eyes darkened, but at least his hands stayed where they were. “You wish you
hadn’t left that limo as soon as you had.”

I stared at him, frightened as a doe facing a wolf. Only I
wanted him to have a bite, and then, once he got one taste of me, devour me
whole. “It doesn’t matter what I want right now. What counts is what’s needed
in the long run.” And that meant being Seth’s wife, being pleasant, liked and
respected by everyone in my new family. I could not endanger all that for a few
nights of passion before Santo found a different target.

Santo groaned, and his eyes narrowed, but he pulled out a
packet of cigarettes, and headed for the balcony door. “You keep up that
attitude, and you might just survive until old age,” he grumbled, as if that
were a bad thing. And yet I couldn’t help but follow his handsome form with my
gaze. From the broad shoulders, to the long legs, he was temptation put in my
path to test me.

I followed him to the door and leaned against it, watching
him from as close as I dared myself to stand. The view from the balcony was
lovely, with a soft hillside housing a vineyard beyond the trees of the garden.
“That’s the only thing I hope for.”

“It’s a luxury not all of us are afforded.” He sat on the
stone banister and lit himself a cigarette.

I entwined my fingers and watched him inhale the first drag
of smoke. The light breeze tousled his hair and snatched the white swirl away
as soon as it left Santo’s lips.

“Have you ever thought of leaving it all behind?”

Santo exhaled through his nose, and he looked picturesque
with the vineyard in the background and in his classy black suit. The sun was
going down, covering everything with a pinkish filter. “Every day, baby. But
it’s complicated for me too.”

He held a cigarette as if he’d been born with it, so
steadily and casually at the same time. I stepped closer and reached out to
indicate the pocket where he put back the packet a moment ago. “May I have
one?”

He glanced up at me with those cold, green eyes that would
surely haunt me in my sleep, and without a word, he handed me the one that has
been between his lips. There was something obscene in the offering, despite it
being completely innocent, but I accepted this kiss by proxy without hesitation.
The filter was still warm where it had touched Santo’s lips, and I put my mouth
around it, staring into his eyes. I couldn’t help myself, even though just
having him here with me was walking on thin ice.

“Thank you,” I said, before sucking in the smoke. A hot,
pleasant warmth filled my lungs, but all of a sudden it seemed to expand beyond
their capacity, stinging my flesh until I coughed for clean air.

Santo pulled me closer and took the cigarette out of my hand
with amusement painted all over his face. “Come here, I’ll show you the
secret,” he said, and I leaned on the banister next to him.

But instead of showing me anything, he leaned close and his
lips were on mine, already opening for a kiss. My heart rate accelerated, and I
pulled back, slapping him hard on the cheek all at once.

Santo lost balance and as soon as he started tipping back
over the banister, I grabbed on the front of his suit jacket to steady him,
yelping in fear.

He held on to my arm for a moment, but then he started
laughing in a way more careless than I’ve ever seen him before. Actually, I’ve
never seen him laugh out loud before.

I stepped back and pouted at him, left speechless, as he
rubbed his cheek where I hit him and took a drag of smoke once he calmed down.

Santo nodded at me. “Now
that’s
what I call push and
pull.”

I was frustrated with Mona’s silence. She had been to arrive
today, but I hadn’t been able to get hold of her for the last hour. The week
that had passed since my arrival in my new home was a string of tense
encounters where I needed to watch my every step not to offend anyone or be a
disappointment, so I was yearning to be around one of the most important people
in my life. My brother wouldn’t even be coming until the wedding day, but I
wasn’t close to him anyway.

Father was still here, but he was away most of the time, and
I hadn’t held a normal conversation with him for years. My only ally was
someone least expected. Santo spent more time with me than my future husband,
whom I mostly met during meals, and while we didn’t get much time alone, it was
those moments when I could stop standing straight as an arrow and let my hair
down a bit that had made the stay bearable.

I rushed down the pristinely clean marble stairs, to the
banquet hall where the local pastry chef had left an assortment of cakes and
other baked goods she made for me to try. I’d written an email to her with a
few ideas of my own, so I was especially curious if she’d managed to
incorporate them into the wedding sampler.

Since I was scrutinized by everyone, and there wasn’t all
that much to do for me other than take my time to look my best, I wore a
different dress every day. It allowed me to express myself in a way no one
would hold against me.

Today was especially warm for December, and the villa was
heated anyway, so I wore a stylish gray pencil dress. It reached to my knees,
but it had a slightly scandalous element—a wide strip of see-thru tulle on the
thighs, which made it as revealing as a mini dress. On the flip side, it didn’t
show any cleavage, so there was that.

The banquet room was empty at this point. When I’d first come
here, it had been filled with light-weight furniture and various plants, which
made it a sort of indoor garden, but with the wedding party approaching, a lot
of redecorating for the occasion needed to be done. A team of people hired for
this purpose were hard at work on the other end of the vast space, where they
pinned white curtains to form a background for the bride and groom’s table.
Across from them stood a lone table cluttered with a whole array of baked
goods, each individually wrapped and presented inside pink cardboard boxes.

I instantly smiled at them and started reading the cards with
details about the food. I was excited to find out that the pastry chef did
indeed cater to my tastes, despite the short notice, and had made two dishes
with my favorite Calabrian chilies. A savory tart, and chili chocolate
cupcakes.

As I was about to bite into the latter, a harsh slap on the
ass made my nose dive into the chocolate cream.

“Hey there, sis-in-law,” Vincenzo said with a wide grin, and
my heart sunk. I hated being around him. There was no other way to put it—the
man was a pig. “Look at all this goodness!” He rubbed his hands together as if
he was invited to have any of it.

I spun around and brushed the cream off my skin, trying very
hard not to show my displeasure when I faced him. “Oh, I thought it was Seth
coming over to help me make the choice,” I lied, determined to keep him away.
It was sad that the only thing that made women out of limits was their
connection to another man. Well, most men, because Santo clearly did not
respect such boundaries.

Vincenzo grinned and wiggled his eyebrows as I forced myself
to not cringe at his hair, which had far too much gel in it. “Aah! Sure you
did. I bet you hoped for some action before the wedding. No can do, baby girl,
he’s off limits for you. Me on the other hand…” He laughed as if it was a great
joke, but something about him suggested that if I were interested, he wouldn’t
care I was promised to his brother.

What kind of brother was he? Maybe if he couldn’t have
Seth’s position, he hoped to have his wife at least. Well, too bad for him. I
had no idea how any sensible woman could ever be interested in him. I was about
to tell him off in the politest way possible when I noticed a familiar
silhouette in the garden outside. Walking with his father, Federico, was Santo,
and my heart jumped in gratitude.

“Look who’s outside,” I said, rushing for the terrace doors.
I called out to them, hoping to God they would not decline an invitation to
sample cake.

Federico Villani had to have been at least fifty, but he
always dressed so sharply I could imagine he still turned heads. There was a
strange similarity between him and his son. They were both tall and slim, but
Santo’s shoulders were wider. Federico had salt and pepper hair, another
feature different from Santo’s tar-black.

I waved at them with a smile, and for a moment I thought
they wouldn’t come, and I’d be left with Seth’s sleazy brother, but Santo said
something to his father, and they approached. Federico’s face looked as if it
had never known a smile, but I wasn’t discouraged.

“I need some help with choosing. I can’t judge it all on my
own. I’ve already got Vincenzo here, but a bigger sampling group is in order.”

Santo’s gaze met mine. He must have gotten his green eyes
from his mother, because Federico’s were dark. “I haven’t had breakfast, so I
wouldn’t mind.”

“Because there wasn’t time for breakfast,” Federico said,
with a slight scowl, but he still followed Santo inside.

I took a deep breath and gave him my best smile. “You men
are always so busy. But isn’t it easier to think when you have something nice
to eat?” I asked, raising a pitcher of lemonade in a wordless question. Of
course Vincenzo wanted some, so I obediently gave him a glass before
transferring my gaze to the father and son.

Santo gave a nod so I poured him a glass as well, wary of
not having our fingers touch when I passed it to him.

Federico glanced over all the delicacies on the table. “I
suppose Santo should try some, because he might not make it for the wedding.”

The handle of the pitcher slipped through my grasp, but I
managed not to spill anything, by holding up the bottom with my other hand. My
heart thudded, but I smiled as if it hadn’t bothered me at all. “Really? That’s
such a shame. It’s his first cousin’s wedding, and one only marries once.”

Vincenzo snorted, but I ignored him, focusing on Federico,
even though something inside me was already screaming at Santo. He had promised
to get me the dress, and as far as I knew, he still didn’t have it. And on top
of that, the sense of security he’d provided me with for the past week had
helped me a lot, and I couldn’t imagine him not being there for the main event.

“My thoughts exactly,” Santo said and bit into a fruit tart.
“The job could have waited.”

Federico glared at him. “If I say it can’t, then it
can’t
.”

Vincenzo laughed out loud and patted Santo’s back. “Oh, man!
Tight leash there on our little boy Santo, huh?”

Santo looked as if he wanted to bite off his cousin’s hand,
but Vincenzo didn’t seem to notice, stretching his whole body as he glanced toward
the open doors. One of the women working on the decorations was staring back at
him, leaning down to showcase her impressive breasts.

And there I had been asking myself what kind of woman would
be interested in Vincenzo. One that hadn’t heard him talk yet. I was relieved
when he excused himself, leaving me with Federico and Santo, whose lips were
going pale from being kept tightly shut.

I couldn’t believe his own father would humiliate him like
this in front of other people. My hand went to the chili tart I’d wanted to
sample earlier, and I picked it up in its little bed of folded paper.

“Would you like to sample this one?” I asked Federico
pleasantly. “I was wondering if it would be to my father’s taste,” I said, as
if I really needed a middle-aged man’s opinion on food. But that was exactly
what would make him have it.

Federico made a face but I pleaded with him playfully, and
unless he wanted to be rude and break social conventions, he’d eat it. Santo
wouldn’t look into my eyes, brooding as if he were Heathcliff.

“All right, but only a bit,” Federico said in the end and
bit into the tart as I crossed my fingers for it to be as spicy as Calabrian
chilies could be. He took two bites and nothing happened, but by the third, his
eyes glossed over slightly.

“And, what do you think?” I asked innocently, as if I were
dumb enough not to realize the topping of the tart might not have been to
everyone’s taste.

Federico picked up Vincenzo’s glass and took a swig.
“They’re excellent,” he said, already bright red in the cheeks, and gestured at
Santo. “I’ll talk to you later. There’s something I need to attend to.”

“Oh, but please pop by later!” I had to bite the inside of
my lip to not laugh.

Santo gave his father a quick wave, frowning at half of the
tart Federico left behind.

I wiggled my eyebrows at him. “Calabrian chili,” I
whispered.

And there it was. I managed to squeeze a smile out of Santo,
even if tiny. My heart soared at the sight no matter how attractive I found him
when he had that serious face going on.

He glanced around the hall and slid closer when he decided
the coast was clear. “Naughty girl.” Santo pinched the back of my thigh through
the tulle.

I licked my lips, glancing toward the decorators, but the
heat of his body was already making me want to step closer. There was this...
chemistry between us that I couldn’t deny no matter how irrational it was to
follow the cues of my body. “He upset you.”

That truly caught him off guard, and his eyes opened a
little wider. “You did that for me?”

I flushed and looked away from him. “It’s the least I could
do. I sometimes feel that you’re the only person here who wants to talk to
me
,
not my father’s daughter,” I said, finally daring to glance into his eyes
again.

Santo’s sharp features softened slightly, and all I wanted
was to hug him, fall into his arms and sleep through my wedding. But I wouldn’t
get to even if it were a possibility, because he was leaving.

“Thank you, I’d have never gotten away with something like
that.” He pointed to the tart. “My father’s a control freak. It’s his way, or
the highway.”

I smirked. “It is quite easy to trick people if they believe
your biggest achievement is the ability to differentiate between shades of
blue.” Picking up the other chili tart, I took in its pleasant, fresh scent.

Santo raised his eyebrows, and my chest swelled with pride.
“Impressive. Maybe there is more to you than a pretty face,” he teased, and I
knew, because from the way we talked to each other, I was sure he had already
figured that out.

I leaned against the table and picked up a small piece of
cake, pushing it between my lips. It was sweet, with a hint of liquor. “I only
use a different kind of weaponry to get what I need,” I said, crooking my head
in hope he’d bring up the dress himself.
What about my dress?

“I will keep that in mind, but it’s hard to fight a weapon
that I want to be stabbed by.”

It was as if we were two opposing magnets, and I was sure he
slid at least an inch closer.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his cool, green eyes. “I
hope you will not be stabbed. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said,
crossing my arms on my chest. “Are you really going somewhere?” No matter how
much my brain focused on the dress, my heart started beating faster at all this
talk of death. Was the job Santo was to do dangerous? What if he never came
back from it?

Santo nodded. “I’m leaving in an hour or two. It’s not up to
me.” I saw that it took effort for him to spit out those last words.

“And...how certain are you that you won’t be back for my wedding?”
I asked, taking a step toward him.

He licked his lips, his whole body tensing up, all of his
focus on me and me only. “Nothing is set in stone in this case.”

I cleared my throat, and the expensive dress somehow
evaporated from my mind as my eyes brushed over the scar on his neck. Had
someone slit his throat? “How likely are you to come back?”

He frowned and took a step back. “This is about the dress,
isn’t it?” He seemed so hurt I regretted even thinking about my dream ensemble
so much. “I promised I will get it to you, and I will.”

“No... I just... I can see you’re not happy to go. Will you
be doing something dangerous?”

His body language was like a volcano about to erupt. “Don’t
try to patch it up nicely now. It’s all about the dress. You can sleep soundly.
I’ll have it arranged, even from six feet under,” he said grimly.

I clenched my hands into fists, glaring at him as my temper,
too, fizzled deep inside my chest. “You promised me to deliver it yourself. If
you die, you will break your promise, and I won’t forgive you, ever.”

Santo hesitated and let out a long exhale. “Okay, I promise
not to die,” he whispered, and I could hardly bear seeing his perfectly
handsome face, so full of emotion he didn’t want to disclose.

My lips twitched, and I squeezed my eyes shut when they
started stinging for no reason at all. I didn’t know Santo. Why was I getting
so emotional? “Good.” It took me a few deep breaths and a look at my engagement
ring to regain my composure. “Are you brave enough to eat the tart that sent
your father running?”

Santo shook his head, a little smile proving I’ve taken him
by surprise. “And why would I put myself through that? If you want me gone, you
just need to say so.”

I shrugged and picked up a little knife, which I used to cut
the whole tart in half. Picking up both, I challenged him with my gaze. “I want
to see if you’re more of a man than him.”

“Are you trying to say only ‘real men’ can bear spicy food?
You will need to try harder than that, babe.” He glanced down to my thighs and
back. “I need
incentive
.”