by Serena Light
"You promised!"
"Then give me my pants!"
"No!"
"Tazio give me your phone!" Salvatore barked, his second in command throwing the phone in his direction just as Marco jumped to try and catch it, falling face first with a thump onto the marble flooring. Before he could even regain his bearings, his older brother twisted his arms behind his back, holding him down with a knee placed against his spine. The younger one groaned beneath him and shrieked when Salvatore dialed their mother's number.
"Mom! Marco hid all my pants!" Salvatore called into the phone.
"I didn't!" The younger one yelled to be heard in the background.
"He won't give them back!" The older one continued, before grinning and placing the phone against his younger brother's ear. "Ha-ha. I'm her favorite."
They all watched Marco's face pale as Salvatore placed the phone to his ear.
"Mom – No, I – No, but – Mom!-" He tried to speak but was constantly cut off by his mother, looking downcast. "But! – Yes, ma'am,"
Soon Nicole stood in the center of their bedroom in black dress pants with a white button-up under a black blazer with white lapels, swallowing thickly when her husband stepped out of his closet in a three-piece grey woolen suit with a red tie and matching pocket square, a black long coat and gloves in hand with his scarf around his neck, and just by the way he stood Nicole knew he was pissed - granted she had forced him to miss two business meetings with her little stunt.
"Why did you hide my pants," Salvatore asked, standing before her as she resisted the urge to lower her gaze.
"I was worried you might fall sick with this weather and asthma and your workload, so I just wanted you to rest for a bit-"
"-Are you underestimating me, Ms. Lombardi?" Salvatore's gaze and voice turned hard as her eyes shot up to his, giving him a glare.
"It's Mrs. Regnante now, and I am not underestimating you,"
"Then why do you act like I will die in cold weather due to my asthma?" He inquired. "I have fared perfectly fine for 28 years with this genetic defect, a day off isn't going to make it better,"
"Nor would it make it worse, thought of that?" Nicole taunted, crossing her arms over her chest. "And last I remember you nearly died one time because of this."
"That would have been my problem," Salvatore shrugged nonchalantly, putting on his coat and gloves.
"That's not the way I see it," Nicole shook her head, inhaling deeply to try and calm her fraying nerves. "Tell me, Salvatore, what would it take for you to accept me as your wife?"
"What do you mean by that, you are my wife,"
"Really? Then what's with "my room" and "my bed" and "Ms. Lombardi", huh? I can't be worried about you? You don't even trust me and we've been married 7 months, right? And yet, I still feel like we have made zero progress," Nicole exclaimed, running a hand through her hair, before pulling on her coat. "You know, if you didn't want to marry me, you should have said so. You kept asking if I was alright with it, but I should have asked if you wanted this because now I can see, you never actually wanted me. And if you're going to start talking about that 'expansion', then don't bullshit me, I've been here long enough to know it would take you half a day to annex my father's Mafia."
"But who am I to say, huh?" Nicole shrugged, spreading her arms wide and walking backward. "I'm Ms. Lombardi, aren't I?" She finished with hurt in her eyes, walking away from him and out of the room.
"You've screwed up big time," Marco told him on their way back to the estate. "She refused to go for lunch, and you guys had an argument before you two left for work, and did it ever occur to you why she hid your pants?"
"Because she underestimated me due to the asthma," Salvatore spoke in a monotone, typing on his phone.
"The actual reason, doofus," His younger brother exclaimed, flicking the side of his head as the older one rubbed at the abused spot. "The unspoken reason,"
"Have I gotten so low as to take advice from the player?" The elder brother taunted.
"Have you finally realized it doesn't hurt to take advice from family?" Marco retorted. "Man, you know what you should do? Both of you should take a week off, and just spend it with each other. The unspoken reason as to why Nicole hid your pants was because you two hardly ever spend time together, obviously given that you cater to three different businesses, and refused to change your schedule after you got married, you didn't compromise an ounce for your marriage, and at the rate you two are going, you'll be divorced before your first anniversary."
Salvatore put the phone away at the words, looking out the window as he listened to his brother in silence, wanting to contradict him, but decided not to.
"You literally take 'it happens my way or no way at all' to a whole new level." Marco shook his head. "If mom and dad would hear of this, they'd be pissed."
"Disappointed," Salvatore corrected.
"That's worse."
"I know."
"Salvatore, man," Marco sighed placing a hand on his elder brother's shoulder. "You've always been there for me from the start. I never felt like an outcast despite my background, and I've grown up beside you and the other two, don't you think I want to see you happy? Do you know when was the last time I saw you actually, genuinely happy? When you gave Nicole that greenhouse-slash-art studio, you were all smiles that day, and you know why? Because your wife was happy, and you were happy for her."
"Please don't be one of those people who didn't realize what they had until it's gone."
Salvatore was seated at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with his Rubix cube when Nicole had entered later that night. It ended that she had decided to have dinner with a few of her colleagues and left a message for him. Catching sight of her, she didn't spare him another glance before making her way towards her walk-in closet, evidently still mad at him.
Sighing, he stood from his place, following after her. Standing in the doorway of her closet, he watched her hang up her coat before taking off her shoes and jewelry.
"Nicole," He called out to her, internally wincing when she slammed her bag down a bit too hard. "We need to talk,"
"I'm done taking orders from you, sir," Nicole spoke in an ice-cold voice as Salvatore sighed.
"As husband and wife,"
"Oh! So that's what we are, now?" She demanded sarcastically, slamming her jewelry drawer. "Husband and wife? Does that concept even exist in the oh-so-great Salvatore Regnante's world?!"
"I know you're mad," Salvatore pinched the bridge of his nose. "But it's nothing we can't talk through,"
Nicole didn't respond as she began to walk away, halting when Salvatore grabbed her wrist.
"Don't turn away from me when I'm talking to you,"
"Oh, never had a back turned to you?"
"I have, they always end up with a bullet through their spine."
Nicole glared at him and wrenched her wrist out of his hold, and Salvatore knew she wouldn't talk to him. Exhaling heavily, he watched her walk away and towards the files she had placed on the coffee table. Rubbing his temples, he decided to leave her alone.
When he returned later, Nicole had gone to sleep. Getting changed, he joined her under the cover, feeling the distance between them greater than when they had first met, wondering how he could fix it.
Nicole awoke with a headache, groaning as she rubbed at her forehead. Sitting up, she was surprised to see Salvatore in a black high neck and dress pants, slowly eating a breakfast casserole with his coffee placed beside him and a book in hand. Grunting, she looked at the time, blinking away the bleariness to ensure she was seeing the time right: 9:13 a.m.
"How come you're still home?"
"Oh, so we're talking now?" Salvatore flipped a page. "If you had listened last night, you might have known why,"
Gritting her teeth, she rubbed away at her temples, grumbling under her breath and making her way towards the washroom. Once freshened up, she found Salvatore still reading, the curiosity of him being here getting the better of him.
<
br /> "Okay, seriously, why are you still here?"
"Last I remember," He shifted his gaze to the next page. "This is just as much mine room as it is yours; given how eager you are to make it ours,"
"I'm serious; it's never a good sign when you're not working."
"I thought I might take a week off just to spend time with you, but seeing as to how much you hate me, I might just decide to go to my beach house in Marasusa rather than spend it with someone who looks like they'd rather kill me in my sleep than spend a minute with me,"
Nicole stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth agape at his words since she tuned out all that he said after "take a week off just to spend time with you". Shaking her head, a smile formed on her face before she giggled at his words. Her giggles soon morphing into hysterical laughter as Salvatore watched her double over with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, that's hilarious!" She cackled, noticing how he gave a small scoff himself, before closing his book and standing up. "You? And taking a week off?"
She watched her husband make his way towards the balcony, sliding open the doors and stepping out with her laughter ringing behind him. Regain her composure, she walked out after him, chuckling as she interlinked her arm with his, opening her mouth to say something but her words froze in her throat when he pulled away from her, making his way back inside.
Swallowing the sudden dryness of her throat, Nicole walked after him, seeing him standing at his bedside, his drawer open as he was checking the magazine of his semi-automatic.
"Salvatore," She called out to him softly, placing a hand against his shoulder as he refused to acknowledge her, holding the gun aimed at the wall.
"I thought I was doing something good by taking a week off. You get me away from work, we get to spend the time together, we might become the married couple you want," Salvatore lowered the gun. "But who am I kidding when my own wife laughs at me at the mere notion of me taking time off."
"It's not like that,"
"Really?" He bit back sarcastically, sounding a lot harsher than he had meant to. "So you doubling over with laughter was me telling you a joke,"
"No, I was just surprised-"
"-Yes and the most natural reaction to surprise is hysterical laughter." He scoffed, putting the gun away and beginning to walk away.
"Hey," Nicole grabbed hold of his arm, forcing him to a halt as he looked at her from over his shoulder. Pulling him back, she made him look at her, wrapping her arms around his neck and gave him a soft smile. "I'm sorry for laughing, but I would really like it if you and I could spend a week together,"
Giving a defeated sigh, Salvatore wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him and buried his face into the crook of her neck. Nicole chuckled at his actions as she massaged the back of his head and held him tightly.
"I could really use with some affection," Salvatore murmured into her shoulder.
"And what sort of affections would that be, Mr. Regnante?" Nicole purred into his ear, her fingers tracing his spine.
"The cuddling sort," He retorted. "The lets-lay-in-each-others-arm-and-do-nothing sort, the lazy day sort, the soft kisses sort, the vanilla sort,"
Nicole couldn't help but laugh at her husband, allowing him to pull away just so that she could place a kiss against his lips, a small smile forcing its way across Salvatore's lips as he cupped her face into his hands.
Chapter XIX: Death by Mistletoe
In the first week of December, both Salvatore and Nicole had stayed at home and didn't do any work. He did not deal with the Mafia, nor the company, neither the nightclubs while she didn't deal with the managerial position of her company. The two had just spent time together, reading, talking, playing, and going out.
They learned quite a bit about one another by just watching, and it always had a smile form on their lips. The week they spent together, they had developed a taste for the other's presence.
However, it was a rather ill-timed vacation given that they had work to get back to before Christmas.
Today was Christmas.
As per their usual, Rosalie and Arcangelo would host a lavish Christmas dinner for their family and friends, and for this very reason, Nicole stood in her walk-in-closet, a robe over her undergarments as she was kneeling on the seat and applying her makeup, her hair pulled into an elegant messy bun.
"You've been getting ready for almost an hour now," Salvatore's voice spoke up from the doorway, standing with a towel around his waist and rivulets of water running down his body, his hair falling into his eyes.
"I've been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half because I know you're going to look so good and I need to try and match up," Nicole spoke from her vanity, wiping away the excess lipstick from the corner of her lips.
"I'm going to look so good that you need to try and match up?" Her husband repeated with an amused smile.
"Have you seen yourself, Salvatore?" His wife retorted, getting off the little bench and standing before him in her robe as he wore nothing but the towel. "You look like a Greek god with or without clothes,"
"Funny, coming from the person who is half Greek," Salvatore muttered, opening the bound of her robe and sliding it off her arm, taking a step back to admire her black lace strapless bra and matching panties, her lace stockings held up by a garter. "What are you wearing?" He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest, forcing his biceps to flex as she bit her lip in response.
"Would it be too cliché if we matched clothes just a little?" She asked with a shy smile, holding her thumb and forefinger with minimal space between them.
"How much is a little?"
Chuckling uneasily, she held up her outfit for the night, an off-shoulder black dress with a burgundy red skirt. Her husband raising an eyebrow at the dress since it was the exact same colors of his night's attire which had been hanging in his wardrobe since he went to take a shower.
"You've got to convince me, sweetheart," Salvatore shrugged, making his way towards his closet. "You're quite well aware of how anti-cliché I am,"
"So, if I convince you, you'll be fine with it," Nicole confirmed, taking a step towards him.
"That's what I just said," He pulled on his dress pants over the boxers, leaving the front open. "Although, nothing that would cause me trouble at mom and dads,"
She cursed under her breath, knowing she couldn't do what she had initially planned. Wracking her mind for ideas on how to convince him to go matching just this once.
"Guess what I'll be wearing with that dress," Nicole gasped, the perfect idea coming to her.
"What?"
Reaching into the locked drawer, she picked up one of the numerous black square boxes that housed it and took out the contents, holding it to her neck.
"This," She grinned, showing the delicate ruby and diamond necklace against the base of her neck, watching how her husband halted for a second, a devious grin spreading across her lips. "Although, of course, I can't wear it if I don't wear that dress, so..."
Nicole had learned that her husband had very expensive taste and often bought jewelry with gems in it, and was an absolute sucker for her wearing the things he gets her. She had a full drawer stacked with jewelry boxes housing the necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings he got her, wearing them when the opportunity presented itself.
"Your ring won't match..."
"I thought I'd wear a dress with the emerald necklace, but then I remembered, I already wore it at a dinner at my parent's house."
Her husband looked at her impassively as she waited for him to say something.
"Just this once," He grumbled in defeat, turning back to his clothes as she shrieked in joy, bounding back to her closet before adding the finishing touches, finally pulling on the dress as she asked Salvatore to zip it up for her.
Salvatore placed open-mouthed kisses against her spine as he zipped it up, Nicole gritting her teeth and closing her eyes as she reveled in the sensation of his mouth against her skin and when fastening the necklace a
round her neck he kissed her shoulder.
Nicole herself had been growing quite frustrated, wanting to do things to Salvatore, but knowing she didn't have it in her. She realized her husband was experiencing the same dilemma as her, wanting to do something, but always holding back for her sake, both of them trying to sate their needs with kisses, but only ending more desperate than before.
"We have to go..." She gritted out tilting her head to the side to grant him more access. "Salvatore..."
He placed kisses against the skin of her shoulder, traveling to her neck and her jaw, kissing behind her ear as a shiver went up her spine.
"When we're back, you will leave it on," Salvatore growled in her ear.
"The dress?" She questioned, her hand coming up to touch his cheek, looking at them in the full-length mirror.
"What you have on beneath," He nipped at her ear before pulling back.
Nicole inhaled deeply to try and calm herself before she fit her feet into her shoes, allowing Salvatore to help her into the grey coat before grabbing her bag. Turning towards her husband, she admired how gorgeous he looked in a two-piece black suit with a red silk button-up, a black overcoat on top with a burgundy scarf around his neck, his fingers clad in black leather.
The drive to the Regnante's wasn't a long one, but once they arrived, various cars had been lining the driveway, chattering coming from inside the house. Stepping out of the Bentley, Salvatore helped Nicole make her way across the snowy terrain, before he rang the doorbell, Arsenio opening the door.
They greeted each other with hugs and cries of Merry Christmas before they took off their coats and scarves. Walking down the foyer, they greeted the people they met, family friends and neighbors alike crowding the interior of the house, little kids squealing and running around with the Christmas tree standing in the corner beside the hearth with multiple gifts under its branches.
Salvatore met everyone, introducing Nicole to the new faces as they all greeted her with surprise, but enthusiasm none the less.
He had just pulled away from hugging his sister, when someone else pulled him into a hug, Nicole watching with a raised eyebrow to the see the unknown girl with her hands on her husband. She was rather petite with light brown hair and matching eyes, a wide smile on her lips as she wore an olive green lace skater dress, a string of pearls running down her chest, and couldn't have been a day older than 21.