La Sposa (26 page)

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Authors: Sienna Mynx

Tags: #crime, #drama, #mafia, #ir, #bwwm erotica, #bwwm contemporary romance, #bwwm erotic romance

BOOK: La Sposa
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I love you too, Catalina. Now go.
I’m ready.”

She nodded and scooted over on the seat. A
man’s hand reached in to offer assistance. Mira sucked down several
calming breaths. She closed her eyes and steadied her nerves. She
didn’t see the crowd waiting for her to emerge, but she knew they
were there. And so was he.

Remember, you leave the car last.
Giovanni will be waiting for you. It’s his way to accept you as his
wife, to show your partnership in love and marriage. It also makes
it plain to everyone that you are part of our family now. So hold
your head high. Always. Everything will be fine, Mira. A blessing
from God, I promise. We’ll see you in the church. We will be close
behind.

Zia’s words, when she helped her dress this
morning, were a comfort. Only because times like this, she missed
Fabiana and even worse, she missed her grandmother. With Zia, she
believed she could trust in loving a family again, having one of
her own.


I remember,” Mira said to herself.
She picked up her bouquet and pressed her lips together to be sure
not to get lipstick on the delicate white lace. Slow and easy, she
was helped out of the back of the limo to her feet. Immediately,
the people around her exploded in applause. She had to blink
against the sun, blinding her to the faces of the hundreds
gathered. She turned her gaze and scanned the cheering
audience.

From the second and third story windows, women
and children waved. A few even sat on the roofs, with celebratory
flags on long sticks flapping in the wind. Others were packed along
the side streets, too many to count. The sunlight in her eyes
cleared. Her gut clenched. Waiting before her was Giovanni. He
looked effortlessly powerful and was undeniably handsome in his
tuxedo. His thick black hair, tapered neatly to his collar, was
smoothed back from his face making his cheekbones and jawline
profound. The contrast of his naturally tanned skin from years of
growing up in Sicily with his mother’s violet-blue eyes, separated
him from all other men.

Giovanni approached her. Mira’s heart hammered
so fast she suffered sharp spasms of tightness in her chest.
Were her hands shaking?
She gripped her bouquet even tighter
and tried to breathe steady from her nose.

In a blink, he was standing before her. They
shared an intimate smile. Giovanni’s neatly groomed hair became
ruffled in the breeze, a gentle wind that carefully blew her veil
out behind her. His gaze swept her, lingering for a moment on her
face.


Come sei, Bella.”
He took
the edge of her veil in between his fingers and slowly lifted it to
reveal her to all those in attendance. The crowd silenced. Not a
word was spoken from man, woman, or child gathered. Even her
daughter sat upright in Nico’s arms, staring with curious intensity
at her parents. All of which she’d learn later, because in that
moment she could see, hear, and feel only what they
shared.


La sua bellezza porta via il mio
fiato.”

He told her that her beauty takes his breath
away, in a voice so low, that only she could hear. Words from him
like this made it easy to believe in all the reasons why this day
would be the most memorable of her life. Giovanni swept her into
his arms, and his lips descended upon hers, taking the crowd by
surprise. Everyone cheered. For Mira, it was the final bind of her
submission. She lifted her arms around his neck, melting against
him with her tongue joining his.

When he released her, she was breathless and
unsteady on her feet. To recover, she held to his sleeve. Giovanni
chuckled. She grinned, blushed, and those before them parted.
Mira’s hands trembled so bad she feared she’d drop her bouquet.
Giovanni guided her steps on the lumpy road with his arm around her
waist. And from above, blue rose petals began to fall.

Handfuls of the delicate silky petals were
thrown from townspeople, leaning out of windows or standing on
balconies. The costal wind swept some up into the air and through
the streets, paving the way for them. In the distance, she could
hear the ringing of church bells. Together, they led all those who
came to witness their union through vaulted alleyways in a maze of
side streets that went up and then down. Mira was grateful for her
ballerina slippers because as they began their wedding march, she
could see the chapel nestled at the highest point of the town
against the cliffs. If she had known about this walk sooner, she
would have designed a different dress. The long train of lace tulle
was becoming cumbersome.


I’m so clumsy,” she said after a
stumble.


You won’t fall on my watch,” he
encouraged her.

She glanced up at him. Hopelessly in love, she
couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Forever my protector.”

He whispered back that he would do anything
for her.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she
concentrated on their journey. “I can’t believe how many people are
here.”


They came for you,” he
said.

Mira cast her gaze behind them. She knew some
were there for curiosity, others because it was expected. But most
in attendance were there for him, not her. The family followed
close. Nico held Eve up. She held a blue petal in her hand and her
pacifier in her mouth. She fingered the petal and stared at it
curiously. Behind the family others, mostly children, ran after
them stopping to throw the flowers at each other in
laughter.

She could have never imagined this. She only
saw the ceremony for Catalina and Franco. It wasn’t half as
intimate as this. When they reached the bottom steps of the parish
of St. John the Baptist, two priests in brown hoods and long robes
waited. The hard look they gave her could not be missed. Giovanni
helped her climb the brick steps to the doors of the
church.


Why are the doors tied in a blue
ribbon?” Mira asked.


Good luck. For us, it represents
the blessing of our union.” He untied the ribbon and released it to
the wind that pushed at her from the east. She saw it float on the
invisible current to the crowd below.

 

The doors were drawn open, and side by side,
they entered the chapel to the organ music. He walked her down the
aisle and found it hard to keep his eyes off her. The dress she
made for him smoothed over her curves, making her appear more like
a goddess than a bride.

At the altar, Giovanni resisted the urge to
kiss her again. She blinked up at him shyly from under her lush
lashes, a sly smile on her lips revealed her desire for him as
well. Good. He wasn’t in this one alone. Whatever reasons their
love was so undeniable between them, he’d endure.

Catalina and Lorenzo joined them at the front
of the church. Mira passed her flowers to her sister- in-law and
Lorenzo slipped him the ring. He eased it into his pocket, having
forgotten he needed it. Nervous energy left him impatient and
breathless. He glanced back at his cousin who, with red rimmed,
swollen eyes nodded encouragement.

A traditional Sicilian wedding was often long
and formal. And as they knelt for prayer, and stood for their vows,
all he could think of was the endgame; a time when the world would
have to recognize her as his wife. A time when nothing, or no one,
would ever come between them again. Father Anthony instructed them
to face each other. Giovanni accepted her delicate hands in his,
with their daughter crying to be released from the pew; He said his
vows, memorizing each and every one to his heart.

Mira accepted him the same way. Her eyes
glistened with unshed tears, and her voice went shaky a few times.
None of it mattered. They had already said the words many times
before to each other. He eased the band of diamonds along her
slender finger, never taking his eyes off her. It was magnificent
next to the solitaire that once belonged to his mother.


With this ring I thee wed,” he
said.

Mira accepted his ring from Catalina. She took
his hand in hers. “With this ring I thee wed,” she said.

Happiness filled him as Father Anthony said
the words Giovanni had waited all day for. “I now pronounce you
husband and wife.” Giovanni swept her up in his arms with a half
spin before he kissed her. The return of her tongue diving and
sweeping into his mouth sent recharged spirals of desire and bliss
through his loins. Everyone stood, clapping. Those already
standing, applauded. All of the cheering was muted by her soft
breaths of excitement when his lips left her mouth to the hollow of
her neck. He couldn’t bring himself to let her go. For the sake of
his reputation he should. There were men gathered who silently
observed the iron Don melt with emotion. And like a true
donna
, she understood, and brought him back to
reality.


Giovanni,” she whispered, hitting
his shoulder to remind him of their audience. “That’s
enough.”

He lifted his lips from her neck and grabbed
her gently by the face. “Our love is the most important thing in my
life now. I will cherish you always, Bella,” he said.


Tu sei la mia vita
,” Mira
said, and kissed him with all of her heart and soul.

 

There were only a few times in Catalina’s life
when she actually saw her brother happy. Most of them were with
Mira and Eve. She turned her gaze to the hundreds of smiling faces
out in the sanctuary, and found the one person who understood how
liberating love could be. Dominic stood with several of their men,
watching Giovanni and Mira, and soon he looked to her. Someday,
they’d have their own ceremony. He winked at her and she blew him a
kiss.

 

Lorenzo scanned the audience of those
gathered. His search for Marietta’s lovely face was soon rewarded.
She stood in a row to the back of the church with Renaldo next to
her. Even in his limited line of vision, he could see how uniquely
her beauty contrasted the sea of faces gathered around her. Last
night, he had become quite accustomed to the melting softness of
her body; the warm satin feel of her breasts crushed beneath his
chest, and the softs sounds of surrender, when she finally gave all
the way in to his insatiable appetite and her own. It had been hard
to stay focused all day with the knowledge that she was so
close.

Marietta stared at him and then the newlyweds.
He felt a strange sense of curious connection to the woman. And for
the first time, he recognized how similar she looked to his
cousin’s new bride. Lorenzo cast his gaze to Mira, and then to
Marietta. Why hadn’t he seen the resemblance before? Or had
he?

Giovanni and Mira headed to the front of the
church and his men filed out. When he stepped down to take
Catalina’s arm, he heard her gasp.

He looked over at Catalina, confused. Afraid
she’d lost her footing.


What happened to your face?”
Catalina exclaimed. “Your eyes. Are you drunk? And those scratches?
Were you in an accident?”


No. Come, don’t make a scene.” He
walked her along with his arm intertwined with hers. He glanced
once more over to Marietta, who wore a peach dress; her hair curly
and thick, her makeup flawless. She stared at him with the same
emotionless expression. When he winked at her, she looked
away.


Who is that?” Catalina asked. She
tried to look around him to get a good peek at Marietta as he
pulled her along. “The woman? Who is she, Lo? Is she with
you?”


There’s Dominic, go to him.” He
ushered Catalina out the door. Soon she was swept up in the
celebrating crowd. She glanced back at him with concern and
disappeared with the others.


Everything in order?” He asked
Carlo, who appeared at his side.

Carlo eased his hands in his pockets. “Who is
the American
puttana
you brought here?”

Lorenzo sighed. “She’s not a whore. She’s my
fucking date! Enough with the questions. See to business!” Lorenzo
clipped, annoyed. He turned away. A look over his shoulder and he
saw Carlo smiling impishly after him.

 


Evviva gli sposi!”
A man
yelled from the crowd, and the crowd shouted back the same cheer
for the newlyweds. Giovanni kissed Mira again and again at the
front of the church, forcing her to stand on her toes. Once he
released her, those gathered threw confetti and candied covered
almonds as they hurried down the steps through the growing crowd.
Some of it hurt. Mira ducked and stayed close under his
arms.


Are they throwing rocks at
us?”


No. It’s candy.” Giovanni
chuckled. “They throw it for fertility and good
fortune.”

Mira laughed to herself. “No need. We got
fertility covered. You look at me and I’m pregnant.”

Giovanni signaled to Nico to bring his
daughter to them. Mira kissed Eve’s cheek after she was placed in
his arms. Surprisingly, her daughter was adjusting well to the
attention of others. Her head turned left and then right. She
blinked at the celebrating crowd while sucking her
pacifier.


This way, Bella,” Giovanni rasped,
taking her hand. Together, they walked toward a garden near the
edge of the cliff. The winds were so harsh her veil nearly blew
from her head. But she kept up with him, holding her dress to try
to manage the trek through the grass. Thankfully, the large
umbrella branches of the trees circling the gardens with bushels of
flowers in magenta, pink, and yellow, caught most of the wind. And
the white tents were ready for the celebration. Lanterns were
strung up. Large blue and white ribbons flapped in the breeze from
the tops of tent poles. She could hear the band playing traditional
Sicilian songs and once they entered the tent, the food on display
made her stomach clench with hunger. So many Italian and Sicilian
delicacies such as prosciutto, olives, stuffed mushrooms, pickled
peppers, salami and calamari were offered. Trays of desserts,
meats, pasta, large bowls of soups, all of it was served in a
buffet spread.

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