The Bloody Bride (The Rocchetti Dynasty)

by Bree Porter

  “Do you mind?” I asked.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he said nothing.

  Silence weighed on me.

  “I’m eight weeks along.” I said. “The app I have said they’re now as big as a raspberry.”

  He didn’t say anything. “Dr Parlatore said everything is going smoothly. The baby is growing well and the sonogram showed there is enough amniotic fluid and that everything is good in there. At the next appointment, Dr Parlatore said we should get to hear the heartbeat, which is exciting. Last time I went, the heart had formed but I didn’t get to hear it because the machine wouldn’t work.”

  I didn’t realise how much I had wanted to talk about the pregnancy until I started.

  “I haven’t started showing yet but Dr Parlatore said you don’t really start showing in your first pregnancy until week 20. But my body is changing heaps. My boobs are getting bigger and my spots are getting darker. Dr Parlatore said that during pregnancy heaps of women get melasma when they’re pregnant, which is when your freckles or moles darken. Or you can get spots. She said I had to wear more sunscreen.”

  Alessandro continued to stare at me. I could not close my mouth.

  “I don’t look pregnant but I definitely feel it. I’m so nauseous all the time and everything smells. Like even smells that are really nice just make me want to throw up. It’s really weird. I’m also bloated all the time. But I’m hardly eating because everything is gross. So, you know…my body is turning on itself…” I trailed off. The silence came back.

  “Are you going to say something?” I blurted. “I’m about to drop dead from lack of oxygen and you’re completely silent.”

  “Is it definitely mine?”

  Out of all the things I wanted him to say, that certainly wasn’t up there. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

  Alessandro lifted his chin. “We had sex once, Sophia.” Clearly last night was going to be ignored.

  “Why are you so angry?” I asked, irked. “Having a pregnant wife is a very handy thing to have, Alessandro. Isn’t that my job? To make little Rocchetti’s?”

  “As you believe it to be.” “What do you mean by that?”

  My husband rose to his feet, towering above me. “Who else knows?”

  “Oscuro, my father.” I rubbed my abdomen. “I assume some people suspect.”

  Alessandro rubbed his face. “You’re not to tell anyone.”

  It was my husband saying those words but all I heard was my father’s desperate voice. I could still feel the phantom grip of his hand on my wrist and smell the wine in his breath.

  Do not tell anyone.

  Why not, Papa?

  I can’t tell you…

  “Why not, Alessandro?” I asked. “Why can’t I tell anyone about my pregnancy?”

  He said nothing.

  “Are you allowed to tell me?”

  His dark eyes snapped to me. “You’re not to say anything and you’re not to question my reasons why.” “You question me all the time. Why can I not return the favour?” “Careful, Sophia,” he warned.

  I held my chin higher, ignoring my instincts that were screaming at me to back down. “Or what? You’re going to catch me and kill me?”

  Alessandro didn’t look amused.

  When he didn’t say anything, I insisted. “Why? Why won’t you tell me? What is the big secret?”

  A flicker of pain flashed over Alessandro’s expression, there and gone in a heartbeat. “There is no big secret.” He said, lowly.

  “Liar.” I whispered. “You don’t let me lie to you, why are you allowed to lie to me?”

  “It is my duty to protect you and take care of you, Sophia.” Alessandro said. “You will do as I tell you and you will not breath a word of your pregnancy to anyone. Understood?”

  I bit down on my tongue. My brain decided it was a great time in that moment to remember the savage sex we had shared. All I could think about was his rough hands on my skin, his hot lips on my own, his cock in me. Then I remembered the rejection, the pulling away. The coldness that had seeped into my bones when he had stepped away from me.

  Twice that had happened now, I thought. Twice he has stepped away from me.

  “Duty is inescapable.” Was all I said.

  Alessandro laughed harshly. “That seems to be the case.” He turned on his heel and began to leave the bathroom.

  I called out his name.

  He stopped and eyed me.

  “I want something, in exchange for my silence.”

  Alessandro looked at me with slight surprise. “What do you want?”

  “I would like for you to spare your assassin, Nero. Davide Genovese is in need of him.”

  My husband stared me with that expression he so often looked at me with. Even after all these months, all his jabs and guesses, Alessandro still had figured me out. I felt unraveled by him, seen by him, and yet…

  “Very well.” He said. “Nero will help Davide with a task. In exchange, for your silence.”

  I smiled. “Agreed.”

  Alessandro stared at me for another moment before leaving. “You’re showing more of your ugly side, wife,” he said on his way out, but with no animosity. Instead, he sounded proud.

  The days passed quickly and soon March turned to April. Spring came, bringing with it the warmer weather. I moved at the same pace as I always had as the time passed, yet still felt undeniably rushed. So many things nipped at my heels, the aftermath of my red wedding, the tenuous peace I had struck with Alessandro, my pregnancy and the restless feeling that something was going on.

  I managed to convince myself that if I just kept moving, it wouldn’t all come crushing down on me.

  After a rather exhausting meeting with the Historical Society—but these days I would do anything to stay out of the penthouse—I found myself in Little Italy. Before I knew it, I walked to the speakeasy that Don Piero owned.

  It wasn’t a building that looked shady. It was sunken into the ground, and the stories were stacked on each other. Vines grew up the red bricks, and grey bars covered the windows. A faded sign read SNEAKY SAL’S.

  I stood out the front with Oscuro and Polpetto. Polpetto sniffed at the bushes and even tried to pee on one of the gates.

  Oscuro shifted impatiently beside me as we took in the building. “Ma’am, it’s time for us to leave.” “I’m just having a look around, Oscuro.” “You know you’re not allowed here.”

  I snapped my eyes to him. His face was set like stone. “Why not? I am a Rocchetti.”

  He didn’t answer.

  I sighed and looked back to the speakeasy. What was Don Piero hiding in there? What made this piece of history so important to him? I considered the fact he may just be keeping it for sentimental value, but then why wasn’t it open? He wasn’t making money from it, except for when the Historical Society wanted a tour. But he would’ve made more by having it open.

  I ran my eyes and down the street, ready to leave. But then something caught my eye.

  I snapped my head to it.

  The Dodge Charger.

  My feet were moving before I could stop them. I took to a dead run, Polpetto beside me, going straight down the street and to the dark vehicle.

  Oscuro moved like a whip, catching me by the waist and yanking me back. I heard my dog yap in fury at being stopped and I understood the feeling.

  “Oscuro!” I shouted. “That’s the car—“

  The Dodge Charger’s engine roared and it zipped down the street. I watched it slide past, my pale expression reflected back at me.

  Oscuro unwrapped his arm from me when he thought I wasn’t going to run.

  I stood still, swaying slightly in the wind. Polpetto tugged on the leash, trying to follow the car. “Oscuro, that’s the car that’s been following us. I told you I’m not crazy. I remember—“

  “No, it’s not.” Oscuro said sternly.

  I turned on him. “Then why did they drive off as soon as they saw me?” “C
oincidence.”

  “Oh, please. You don’t really believe—“ “Drop it, Mrs Rocchetti.” Despite addressing me respectably, his tone was anything but. “If you run after a car again, I will tell your husband.”

  My lips parted in surprise. “You can’t be serious? You saw that car, Oscuro.”

  Oscuro didn’t say anything.

  “You were with me when we saw it at the graveyard! It’s the same car.” I couldn’t believe his obvious denial. “It was outside the church, as well.”

  “You are very stressed—“

  “Please, don’t patronise me.” I said. “I just want you to admit that it’s the same car that we keep seeing.”

  Oscuro shook his head. “It’s not. You’re imagining it.”

  Feeling deflated and slightly hurt, I turned on my heel and began to walk slowly back to the car. Polpetto stuck up his tail, as if telling Oscuro to kiss his ass. “I thought we were friends,” I told him. “What are you not telling me?” “There is nothing to tell.” Was all he said.

  It occurred to me that Oscuro may of kept my pregnancy a secret out of kindness, but he certainly wasn’t my friend. He wouldn’t share something he deemed I didn’t need to know, or something that my husband decided I didn’t need to know. The news hurt. Oscuro had been my constant companion these pass few months, but now our relationship seemed to be covered in secrets and shadows.

  I didn’t look back at him. I feared I would start crying if I did.

  “Let’s go home.” He told me. “Or else you’ll be late for the engagement party.”

  I only nodded.

  We drove home in silence, and I had never been more relieved to see the apartment building. As soon as Oscuro stopped the car, I jumped out and headed towards the elevator. He followed quietly, but made no move to talk to me.

  The penthouse was eerily silent, as per usual, but since the attack, I felt a sense of unease. Each move I made, I felt watched and recorded. I hardly slept, and the only time I did was when Alessandro allowed me to sleep in his bed with him—with both of us skilfully ignoring the fact that we had had sex. He hadn’t brought it up and I certainly wasn’t going to. I didn’t know if it annoyed him that I was sleeping in his bed, but I could tell it wasn’t something he really wanted. He was use to his own space and probably felt I was overtaking his.

  Plus, Polpetto snored and Alessandro was not a fan.

  I went upstairs to prepare for the engagement party of Sergio and Narcisa. Their wedding was a few months away, but an engagement party was always a fun thing to throw. Alessandro and I had been married too abruptly for an engagement party.

  “Sophia?”

  I turned, surprised. Alessandro was at the bottom of the stairs, laptop in hand.

  “I didn’t know you were home.” I pressed a hand to my thundering chest. “You frightened me.”

  His face softened fractionally. “You’re always scared, Sophia.” He didn’t sound proud about this. Alessandro gestured to the laptop in his hand. “Come down here and choose which one you like.”

  “One I like?” I repeated but followed him back downstairs.

  Alessandro set the laptop up on the kitchen counter. “All of them are located in the gated community. Just flick through the tabs until you decide on your favourite.”

  I sat down in front of the laptop and flicked it awake. Photos of houses for sale greeted me, all of them huge and magnificent. And all of them located in the gated community.

  “Are you kicking me out?” I asked.

  “No.” He walked around to the kitchen. “Where is the cold water?” “Left side of the fridge, next to the milk.”

  Alessandro located it and poured us two glasses of water. He was using the wrong glasses but I didn’t say anything. It was nice that he was serving me for once. “The child will need more space to grow, and it is important for them to be around family.” He passed me a glass. “Plus, I can’t take anymore of you tiptoeing around this house and checking every room before you walk into it.”

  I bit my lip. “The attack…” “Should’ve never of happened.”

  “Are you sure you want to move?” I asked him. “Your work is in the city. So are most of my friends—and your men. Do you really want to leave your life?” “We’re moving to the outskirts of the city, not Antartica.” He replied gruffly. “I’m not having you living in a house you deem unsafe.”

  “I can stop sleeping with you. I know Polpetto snores and I’m a bit of a blanket hoarder.”

  Alessandro took a sip of his water. “That’s not the problem.”

  I searched his expression greedily, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. Was it really about the baby? Was it really about me? Or did Alessandro want to be closer to his family?

  “Are you sure you want to be so close to our family?” The words came out before I could stop them.

  “No.” He said. “But the gated community is Fort Knox.” “Then why?” I asked.

  My husband surveyed me with the same look in his eyes as he always did. Like he was trying to figure me out, trying to solve but couldn’t manage it. I understood the feeling.

  “You don’t act like yourself.” He said eventually. Before I could ask for more, he snapped the moment in half. “So hurry up and choose which house you want. I’m not letting you make us late for Sergio’s engagement party.”

  I scrolled through the houses, all beautiful and alluring. It would take me more than fifteen minutes to pick out which one I wanted to live in, but Alessandro’s offer probably had a time limit. Some were too big, some were too small. Others were too modern, whereas others were too old. I was about to ask if I could have longer when I clicked onto the last house.

  A coo of delight left my mouth before I could stop it. “This one. This one is perfect.”

  Alessandro pulled the laptop to him. “The one is on the same street of the Don.”

  “Is it?” I hadn’t noticed that. “I can choose another one.” “No, this one will do.” He clicked through the images and nodded in approval. “Very Mediterranean. It looks nothing like the penthouse.”

  I took a sip of my water, trying to look inconspicuous.

  Alessandro snorted. “I will call the real estate agent.” He closed the laptop. “Oscuro is waiting for you downstairs, so try and be quick.”

  “Can I have Beppe tonight instead?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  His dark eyes snapped to me, hardening. “Has Oscuro done something he shouldn’t of?” “No, nothing like that. We’re…we’re just in a bit of a fight. Nothing serious.” I tried to give him a comforting smile. Alessandro did not look comforted.

  I jumped off the stool. “I’m going to go and get ready. Your favourite Armani suit is at the dry cleaners so you’re going to have to wear your Brioni one. I’ve already laid it out with your tie.”

  “Why is my Armani at the dry cleaners?” He asked. “It’s clean.” “I found a stain on it.” “On the inside.” Alessandro pointed out. “You could barely see it.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay,” I told him.

  He waved an irritated hand at me. “Go and get ready. We’re running late.”

  As I walked up the stairs, Alessandro called out my name. I turned. He was still at the kitchen counter, but now his expression had darkened.

  “I hope you keep the pregnancy to yourself.”

  “Don’t worry.” I headed back up the stairs, not wanting to hear anymore about this. “I’m wearing a loose dress, so my stomach isn’t visible.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  The engagement party took place in the ballroom of a fancy hotel, themed as white and silver. Hanging from the ceiling were beautiful dripping lights, which overlooked the long tables. Bars were along the walls, with impeccably dressed bartenders and white flowers dangling over them. A small stage and dance floor were at the end of the room, with silver tulle decorating it. The guests milled around, but their eyes skidded to us as we entered.

  “Oh,
it’s gorgeous.” I told Alessandro. I was perched on his arm. “Doesn’t it make you wish we had had an engagement party?”

  Alessandro scanned the ballroom. “It’s fine.”

  Friends and family approached us, greeting me with kisses on the cheeks. I got many compliments on my startling red dress, which pleased me. I hardly ever wore red, preferring much softer colours.

  My bump wasn’t large yet, but if I had worn a dress that had clung to me, you would’ve been able to tell. Enough people suspected, so I had decided to be a bit smarter with my engagement party dress. The dress itself was a deep red, setting off my golden hair. It was off the shoulder with a sweetheart neckline, but the skirt began just above my hips and pooled out slightly, therefore hiding my stomach.

  When Alessandro had seen it, a hungry expression had warped his face. My heart was still thundering from the sight of it.

  As parents of the bride, Benvenuto and Tina were the centre of attention—until, of course, Sergio and Narcisa entered. Tina seemed flustered by all the attention, whereas Benvenuto held himself smugly. He got many compliments for continuing the bargain, despite the other half of the bargainers being dead.

  When they saw us, they both pulled away from who they were talking to. I felt a strike of pleasure at this. Perhaps Benvenuto wasn’t the only one who enjoyed being the centre of attention.

  “Alessandro,” Benvenuto greeted. The men shook hands.

  Tina and I exchanged an embrace, and I complimented her on her dress.

  When it came for me to kiss Benvenuto on the cheek, Alessandro pulled me back. It was subtle but none of us could ignore it had just happened. I turned to him, feeling embarrassed by his action. But his face was set in stone. Benvenuto also looked slightly shocked at being denied.

  I recovered quicker than him. “Congratulations on the marriage.” I said. “It will be so nice to have Narcisa back in the city. She has been missed.”

  “Yes, well,” Benvenuto stood up straighter, “it has been a wedding long in the making.”

  “We are very happy with the match.” Tina said quietly beside him. I forced a bright smile. “It must be surreal for the wedding to be happening so soon. Time has snuck up on us.”