“How can I help you?” I ask.
Her smirk turns into a full-fledged smile as she closes the distance between us. “I’m looking for something to wear on my wedding night, tomorrow,” she purrs as she holds her hand out to show off her gigantic, over-the-top, diamond engagement ring.
I suppose I should be impressed, but she’s not the only client I have with large jewelry and money. My shop is in Manhattan, I get customers from all walks of life. However, I know what she wants by the way she flashes her ring, so I play her game, reminding myself that this is my job and her sale is what puts money in my pocket.
Taking her hand with mine, I make sure to widen my eyes and drop my mouth open slightly. “Your ring is absolutely gorgeous. Congratulations,” I fakely swoon.
She tugs her grasp away from mine, then brushes her hand against the skirt of her dress as if she’s brushing my cooties off.
What. Ever.
“Thank you. He adores me,” she announces. “I want something indecent. You know the man just cannot keep his hands off of me. It’s ridiculous how much he needs to have me,” she rambles.
I guide her over to where our white lingerie is. It’s my bridal section and although many of the choices are in other colors, people want to feel like it’s some special bridal collection, so I made a little section of the store all white.
She reaches out and fingers a couple of the silk baby dolls, then turns her nose up and lifts her gaze to mine.
“I want something blue, to match his eyes,” she announces.
Blue is the other popular wedding color. I guide her toward the blue section of the store. “Do you have anything cupless? My breasts are his favorite feature.” She grins as she lifts her gaze to mine.
“I think I know what you may like. All of my racier items are back in this room.”
Together we walk back toward the small room where all of my, what I like to call, treasures reside. In this room is where I have cupless, crotchless, and kink fantasy pieces. Not all of my clients know that I carry this type of thing, but I have several that come to me for this exact reason.
“I love this,” she announces, holding up a crotch and cupless teddy that is light blue with black accents.
It’s sheer lace all over and is actually one of my favorite pieces in this line. I tell her as much and I watch as her lips twitch into another secretive smirk.
“Then, I’ll definitely take it.”
We walk out to the main area of the store and I wrap it up while asking her mindless details about her wedding. I honestly don’t give a shit, but people love to talk about themselves. I know without a doubt that this woman’s favorite pastime is just that.
“Are you honeymooning?” I ask as I slide her credit card through my machine.
Wynter McClain, the name is unique, and yet it seems familiar. Shaking it off, I hand her card back to her before giving her the receipt.
“Not immediately. We’ll be going to Italy though, soon. He’s Italian and I just know he’ll want to show me his family’s home country,” she rambles.
“How exciting. I’ve always wanted to travel, but I haven’t had much time.”
Wynter shoots me a fake pout as I slide the bag across the counter.
“Thank you, I hope to see you again soon, and good luck on your wedding tomorrow,” I call out.
Something flashes in her eyes, but I can’t read it before it quickly disappears. “I’ll definitely be back,” she purrs.
Then, without another word, she struts out of my shop. I let out a breath, feeling a bit sorry for the man that she’s snagged. She seemed nice enough, but there was something really ugly and a bit terrifying lurking beneath her surface.
That woman wasn’t just a gold-digger, she was much more than that. She doesn’t just want to dig the gold, she wants to own it, and everyone around her.
Shaking my head, I push thoughts of her away and instead focus on Arlo and what I want to talk about on Monday. I spend the rest of the afternoon in a daze, coming up with my speech and hoping that if I think about it enough that I’ll remember it, and not turn into a pile of mush at his feet the second I see him, again.
Chapter Fourteen
ARLO
Wynter would be a beautiful bride, if it weren’t for the fact that her personality was shit and she was staring daggers at me as she walks down the aisle. She’s still pissed about the blowjob and dump a few nights ago, I’m sure. I wouldn’t really know because I’ve been avoiding being anywhere alone with the woman. Even our rehearsal, I made sure we were surrounded by as many people as possible.
Unfortunately, tonight all of that changes.
The priest does his thing, I’m not really listening. I’m just going through whatever motions that’s required of me. The vows are by far the worst part of the entire ceremony. They feel like a goddamn lie. Every part of them, every fucking second.
Then, it’s time to kiss. Lifting her veil, I look down at the woman who is now legally bound to me. She’s ugly on the inside. Her soul is black tar, and yet, mine is as well. I have no doubt that I’ve committed more sins than she could ever imagine.
“Kiss your bride,” she smiles. It’s evil. She’s evil.
I lower my face, pressing my mouth against hers. Her tongue peeks out, and she slides it across the seam of my lips. The guests erupt in a round of applause and only then do I straighten my back and turn to face them. Holding my elbow out for my new bride, together, we walk down the aisle, legally bound as husband and wife.
Helping her into the limousine, I follow behind her and sit down. With a sigh, my head falls back, resting against the back of the seat. Wynter crawls onto my lap almost immediately, my eyes fly open as my hands grip her hips.
“What are you doing?” I demand angrily.
She smiles, it’s coy and somewhat sensual. This is the smile that made me decide to propose. Not that I think it’s particularly sexy, but it’s more natural than anything else about her. She cups my cheek with one hand, then reaches behind her with another.
“I need to fuck you, Arlo,” she purrs.
“No, you don’t,” I grunt as her hand moves and her dress slowly falls open in the front.
Like a good Catholic girl, her skin is covered with fabric, like the bad girl that she is, it’s all sheer. Only pasties cover her nipples and another piece of fabric wraps around her waist, everything else about the dress is completely see-through.
When her chest is exposed, I blink at the sight of her. I feel her moving beneath me, then before I realize what’s happening, my cock is out, her hand stroking it with a tight fist and she’s adjusting herself so that I’m aligned with her cunt. I shake my head, not wanting to do this, wishing my cock would go flaccid.
The reality is that she is now my wife. It’s not cheating on Lenora to fuck her. It’s now cheating on Wynter to fuck Lenora.
Christ, I’ve made a mess of my life.
“Fuck,” I hiss as she sinks down on my hard cock.
She leans forward, her lips touching just next to my ear. “I’m going to fuck you now, Arlo. Remember that it’s your wife you’re inside of now.”
Her words send a prick of warning throughout my entire body, but it quickly disappears as she rides me. For all her efforts she puts on a damn good show.
Though, it’s completely lackluster.
Watching her work, trying to enjoy her, knowing that I’m going to be fucking her cunt for the rest of my life, it just makes me feel—depressed. This is not the life that I wanted.
I come, but it feels hollow. It’s as if I’m not even present, like I’m looking at myself from a distance. I watch her shift off of my lap, then right her dress, covering up her bare breasts and within seconds she’s back to the woman from the church. Her icy glare looks over at me as I finish tucking my cock back into my pants.
“Do you like lingerie?” she asks.
Ignoring her gaze, I reach for a decanter and pour myself a whiskey. Taking the glass, I swallow
the contents of my glass in one gulp, then pour another.
“Usually,” I state.
She smiles. “Just wait until tonight. I found the sexiest lingerie at this little boutique in Manhattan. I saw it and just knew you would love it. I mean, it’s crotchless and cupless. How could a man like you not like it?”
“Okay…” I drawl.
“Look at me, Arlo,” she snaps.
Sitting back against the seat, I look over to her.
“It was called Sugar Cookies,” she breathes.
I watch her eyes dance as she waits for my reaction. I should have one. I should care that she visited the woman I adore and bought lingerie for the sole purpose of fucking me and trying to get me to react. I don’t.
If I show any one person on earth that I give a fuck about Lenora, it makes her a target. If I show my wife that I care for her deeply, it makes her a toy for Wynter to play with. I won’t have Lenora treated badly, not because of me.
“We’re here,” I state as the limousine pulls up to the reception.
The dock is right in front of us. A private yacht for all of our guests. Fortunately, my guest list is much smaller than Gavino’s needed to be as the Boss. However, it’s seventy-five people on a yacht, with nowhere to escape.
“You’re fucking me again while we’re here and you’ll do it like you goddamn mean it or I’m going to look into the Sugar Cunt,” she growls.
Ignoring her, though my rapid heartbeat cannot, I slide out of the limo and hold my palm up to take hers and guide her out of the car.
Thankfully, I don’t need to smile as the groom, I allow her to plaster on her fake as fuck smile and together we walk down a fully decorated boat dock until we board our private reception yacht on the East River.
Gavino is the first person that I recognize. Leaning down, I brush my lips across my wife’s cheek and disengage from her grip.
“I need to talk to Vino,” I murmur, then walk away without a glance back.
I need to get away from the bitch. Luciana is watching me as I approach, Vino is looking down at her but I have no doubt at all that he knows it’s me who stands in front of him.
Pulling an envelope out of my inside pocket, I hand it over to him. It’s the forged NDA. I couldn’t present it to Lenora. I went yesterday to get her to sign it, but I couldn’t do it. He dips his chin, taking the envelope and sliding it inside of his own breast pocket without a word.
“She knows about Lenora. I don’t know how, but she does.”
Luciana’s eyes widen, then a look of almost pity crosses her features. I watch as she lifts her glass of champagne to her lips, taking a sip before she speaks.
“I think, that maybe, you should focus on your wife now, Arlo,” she murmurs.
Gavino clears his throat, I watch as he lowers his head, murmurs something to her and then with a nod she turns around and walks away. We both keep our gaze on Luci as she makes her way over to my parents. They embrace, and only then does Vino turn to me.
“I know what you’ve started with her,” he begins.
“With?” I ask.
He shakes his head, a smirk tipping his lips. “That woman you shackled yourself to. I know that you hired a man to follow her and another to follow her father. Are you hoping that they’ll be caught doing something that will null and void the contract?” he asks.
“That and…” I let my words trail off, knowing that I’ll have to come clean to Vino about my meeting with Senator McClain sooner rather than later.
“Arlo, what did you do?” he demands.
Clearing my throat, I lift my chin toward a less crowded area of the yacht. We make our way over to the railing, away from prying eyes and listening ears.
Gripping the metal piping, I look over the edge, wondering why on earth she wanted to have the reception here? It’s fucking suffocating. She probably knew I’d hate it, that’s why she did it.
“You better start talking,” Gavino demands.
I let out a breath. “The senator came to me, demanding that I respect her,” I begin.
Closing my eyes, I reopen them before I continue, I tell him about our discussion, what the reality of this life is. Which, I also explain, he wasn’t too fucking happy about.
“I promised her financial happiness and that I wouldn’t abuse her, on one condition.”
“That is?”
Lifting my gaze, I look across the water. We’re right across from the East Village, across from Lenora. I imagine her in our bed, the one that we share in our new apartment. One that we haven’t even shared since she bought a frame.
I imagine all of the new furniture that she sent me photographs of. Then, I imagine her look of complete and utter shock when she received the earrings that I had a courier deliver today. They were set to arrive at the exact time that I said my vows.
Fucked up? Yes.
But I still fucking did it, because Lenora has been the only woman at the forefront of my mind for weeks.
“I decided we needed him in a bit deeper than just the marriage.”
“Because you know without a doubt that the marriage will not last,” he guesses.
I snort. “As do you, cugino.”
He nods but waits for me to continue. “The women, that arrive from Ireland,” I begin. His gaze darkens, knowing where I’m going and assuredly not approving. “I made sure he cleared the flight paths for the plane to exit and enter the country for the next shipment, completely undetected via paper trail. His ass is as much on the line as mine is.”
“Yes, but now more people are aware that something is going on, that is fucking dangerous, cugino,” he warns.
Dipping my chin, I can’t help but agree with him. “It’s half-baked, to say the least, however he has only told one person. I looked into his background. He is extremely close to a Mister James Robinson, the Commissioner of the Port Authority.”
“Arlo,” Vino hisses.
“What better way than to have several government employees doing your dirty work, yeah?” I ask, arching a brow.
He chuckles, lifting his hand and slapping it down on my shoulder. “Now, I understand how you are a Zanetti,” he smirks. “I always thought you and your father’s hearts were too soft.”
“They are,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. “They aren’t. Maybe for the ones you desire, the ones you love, but in general, they are not. I don’t hate this plan. Get all of their hands dirty and when shit goes south with the puttana, then the famiglia is still safe.”
“We just have to make sure all of our Ts are crossed and our Is are dotted.”
He nods his head a couple of times in agreement. “This buys us the time at least and the leverage.”
“Plus, we’ll be having a meeting with Commissioner Robinson on Tuesday to finalize things. To ensure that everything is set into motion,” I explain.
“The Russians have the train system and we have the air. I like this. Gives us a one-up and a way to deal with the Russians on train use, as well, if we should ever need it.”
I grunt. I hadn’t thought of that, but this is why Gavino is the Boss and I’m the Underboss. This is also why I don’t mind it so much.
“Let’s attempt to enjoy your reception. We’ll continue this talk about work on Monday, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
ELENORA
Stupidly, my heart skips a beat when the buzzer rings at the door. Granted, if it were Arlo, he would have access to our floor and a key to the front door. I shouldn’t get as excited as I do, but I can’t help myself.
“Hello?” I ask, pushing the intercom.
“We have a package for you, Miss Lewis, would you like me to bring it up to you or hold it at the reception desk?”
The doorman sounds so kind, I’ve yet to actually meet him but he sounds really nice over the speaker. I debate going down there, then I ask if he can bring it to me. I have no idea what it could be. I pace at the door as I wait for his knock.
When it sounds, I ju
mp.
Tugging the front door open, I smile up at the doorman. He doesn’t look like what I expect. He’s a bit older, his temples gray, and his eyes dark, but he’s fit—really fit. It surprises me. He looks nothing like any door man that I’ve ever seen before.
“Delivery for you, Miss Lewis,” he says and holds out a small bag with ribbon handles.
“Thank you. Do you know who it is from?” I ask, tilting my head back to look into his dark eyes.
He shakes his head once, though I don’t miss the wink and smile that he gives me before he turns around and walks away. Closing the door behind him, I lock the deadbolt and then make my way over to the new sectional sofa in the living room.
Sinking down onto the white cushion, I hold the bag in my lap and stare at it. Unable to wait even another moment, I tentatively reach inside. There is a small envelope, next to a very small box. I want to take the box out first, but manners have me pulling the card out instead.
Opening it, I smile when I see the familiar scrawl.
LENORA,
I’M SORRY I HAVE BEEN ABSENT.
I HOPE THIS MAKES UP FOR IT.
SEE YOU MONDAY.
-CARLO
Setting the note to the side, I reach in and take out the box. Sliding the lid off, I gasp when I see a jewelry box nestled neatly inside. Tipping the cardboard box over, I shake it until the velvet jewelry box falls into my palm.
Slowly I lift the lid and then I gasp again before I let out a cry. There is a pair of at least two-carat diamond solitaire, cushion cut, earrings winking back at me.
“Oh my God,” I breathe. “Oh. My. God.”
Chapter Fifteen
ARLO
Climbing out of bed, I make my way to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Gripping the edge of the vanity, I lift my eyes to my reflection in the mirror. Disgust fills me. The sight of myself is foul. My hair is messy, my face is pale and my eyes have dark bruising beneath them. I haven’t slept in days, consumed with my own guilt.
Becoming his Mistress: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 11