by Ava Catori
As I pulled the lace gown from the bag, my mother helped me step into it. She stood behind me and zipped it slowly. I drew a deep breath, preparing for a first glance.
A small gasp slipped out of me unexpectedly. The wedding dress was beautiful. It was elegant and hugged all my curves perfectly. I wasn't sure what to expect, but Chiara had outdone herself. She’d found a dress that was fit for a woman my size and not some skinny girl model stretched for the occasion. Well, if I was to be married, at least I looked like a princess for a day, and was happy with my appearance. I wondered if ten years from now, I'd look back at my wedding pictures and still resent my husband, or if I would have made peace with it all and fallen in love with him.
"Oh, sweetheart…" my mother said, not being able to find the rest of her words.
Maura agreed. "Wow, you're so pretty."
I blushed and turned to my sister. She was rarely free with the compliments. "Thank you, Maura."
Mom’s eyes welled with tears. She reached up and wiped one away. "I knew you'd make a beautiful bride, but even I couldn't imagine this. It's the perfect dress for you."
I whispered thank you, and looked back at my image. Like some fairy tale wedding, the pictures would speak of a loving and warm day, no one who didn’t know would be able to guess, in reality, it was an arranged marriage to save my family. I'd slowly withdrawn this week, as if my life were ending, not beginning.
My father knocked lightly on the door. "It's time," he said, barely taking a moment to notice me. It stung. He'd shut down to go through the motions, and I missed the closeness we once shared.
We made our way to the limo that sat in our large circular driveway. I lowered my head and climbed inside. The chauffeur closed the door behind me.
We sat in silence on the drive to the church. The only sound was the light music that played quietly in the background. I listened to the mournful Adele song and got lost in the words.
With the church in sight, my stomach twisted. This was it. I was about to get married. I forced myself to breathe. All I had to do was walk down the aisle, one step in front of the other. It was the price I had to pay to save my father, so I'd do it without question.
The driver walked around the car and opened my door. I closed my eyes, swallowed hard, and took his hand. As I stepped out, my knees went weak. I forced myself to remain strong and steeled myself for the process ahead.
With my family beside me, we made our way into the church. I stood in the back as my mother and sister scrambled inside, finding their places. My father offered his arm. On a nod, the music began. It was time to start the charade, the one where I gave my hand in marriage and pretended to love my new husband. I dreaded the kiss he'd give me in front of everyone, sealing the deal.
I barely got the words out, but told my father I was ready.
Gino turned around to look at me. He stood in his tuxedo, a handsome man, no doubt, but still a stranger. With each step I moved closer. His smile grew larger, like a shark ready to consume his prey.
At the altar, my father offered my hand to him. Gino took it and tenderly held onto me. He leaned into me and whispered. "It's going to be okay."
I gave a small nod and played my role. It was time to get married.
* * *
10
Gino
Isabella was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. As she walked down the aisle, my eyes never left hers. At the altar, her father put her hand in mine. I’d been smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
I leaned in and whispered, "It's going to be okay."
She answered with a pitiful nod and for just a second, I was tempted to call it off. This asshole didn't deserve such a generous daughter, one who would marry a perfect stranger to save his lazy ass. The feeling of guilt quickly vanished, and was replaced by pure unadulterated lust. My gaze fell on her perfect lips. I imagined how soft they would feel or better yet, how perfectly they would fit around my cock.
I tore my eyes away from her when the priest began to speak. The mass was celebrated by Roberto, Isabella's uncle. I was pretty sure he didn't know anything about our arrangements; otherwise he probably wouldn’t have agreed to perform the ceremony. The man was no saint but he had to have some sense of decency. Father Roberto went ahead while looking a bit puzzled. Like everybody else who didn't know better, he was probably speculating why the whole thing had been rushed.
According to Chiara, who attended one too many social functions, we were the hot and current subject of most of the gossip rings. Of course no one would speak directly about us in front of her, but nevertheless she’d heard about it through the grapevine. Apparently, I had seduced Isabella and now that she was pregnant, I had been forced into doing the right thing.
So, while everybody properly suspected this was a shotgun wedding, they had it all wrong. They imagined I was the one held at gunpoint, forced by the Guarnieri clan to marry the girl.
Isabella's lush figure wasn’t due to a pregnancy, but to her own doing. I smiled to myself. If I had my way, her curves would soon get more pronounced. The earlier we started a family the better.
Since neither of us had prepared vows, Father Roberto used the traditional formula, and to his questions we both answered I do. I was more nervous than I expected. My hands trembled as I slipped the diamond band on her finger.
Father Roberto pronounced us man and wife. I took a step closer to my beautiful bride and lifted her veil. As I looked into her eyes, I tried to decipher what she was feeling. I couldn’t tell. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing quickened as I leaned over, my lips hovering over hers. I softly pressed my mouth against hers. She closed her eyes as I gently nipped her lower lip. Surprising me, she sighed and parted her lips.
Not sure if she had voluntarily let me in or not, I still took advantage of the situation and explored her mouth while pressing her to me. The initial stiffness of her body dissolved progressively, so much that she almost lost her balance. Completely at my mercy, she reached out for me. Had we not been in a public place, I’m not sure I would have been able to hold back. Her soft breasts pressed against my chest as her fingers curled around my arms; I wanted to possess her there and then.
The loud applause of the congregation brought me back to reality. When I looked at them, I was the proudest man on earth. The woman I wanted would soon be mine and with her hand came access to coveted territory.
Looking back, I took Isabella’s hand and walked down the aisle, oblivious of the people around us, until we reached the long limo that waited to take us to the party.
I would have rather gone directly home, but my sister and Isabella's mother had worked really hard to prepare our wedding party. Furthermore, it wasn’t only a wedding reception, it was an opportunity for the head of several families to get together and deal with pressing business, some of which related to what we referred to as the Russian Invasion.
We had to work together to make them understand our part of the shore was not free game for all and if they wanted to do business in our territories, they had to ask permission and pay their dues.
Somehow, their dealing with Dante Guarnieri had given them the impression we’d gone soft. The idiots thought we’d gone so weak that we’d let the death of one of the patriarchs go unpunished. No fucking way would we let that slide; there was hell to pay. Sonny was determined to fight back and let them know we meant business.
The plans would be discussed during the reception and even though I would rather have spent the time with my lovely wife, there was no way I was going to miss that meeting. It would probably be one of the most significant ones held since I’d joined the family business. My presence would show everyone I was a force to be reckoned with.
Yeah, thanks to Isabella's stupid father, my future looked promising. As soon as we were done with the Russians, I’d be going places.
Power was the name of the game.
* * *
11
Isabella
Gino leaned forward t
o kiss me. I braced myself, waiting to get it over with. His tenderness surprised me, so much so, that I parted my lips and returned his kiss. My head was clouded with confusion, yet somehow I was drawn into the moment.
It wasn’t magical, wasn’t transforming, but somehow it was nice. The conflicting emotions that wound through my body left me feeling tangled and bruised.
A thunder of applause broke out from behind us. Embarrassed, flushed heat painted my cheeks.
Gino pulled away and looked at me. There was joy in his eyes. I think my participation in our kiss surprised him as much as it did me. I surrendered in the instant, but reality slapped me hard and I shook off the false feelings that had momentarily consumed me. This wasn’t some man I cared for, but somebody I was forced to marry. Gino was still lost in the illusion. He took my hand and squeezed it, before turning toward the aisle.
We walked away from the altar as Mr. and Mrs. Simone, and everything I once knew to be real vanished before me. Wearing a mask for others was easy enough, but admitting to myself that I'd kissed him back was a hard truth to swallow.
Outside the church, people threw birdseed in place of the traditional choice of rice. A car waited for us as people snapped pictures. We’d drive to the reception and take part in a party for the bride and groom. Everybody expected us to live happily ever after. I wondered how many of our wedding guests would be cheering us on if they realized the terms of our agreement.
Hadn't they questioned the rush? Not that it mattered, what was done was done.
Camera's clicked as we stood before the limousine. After a short pause, Gino took my hand. It was time to leave. We sat in silence, until the car started moving. My emotions were void.
"I'll do everything in my power to keep you happy. I know this wasn't your intended plan, but I'll place you on a pedestal unless you give me a reason otherwise. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you. Whatever you need, I'll provide." He stroked my hand in his own.
"Thank you," I answered, looking at my husband. Could I live this life, the life that he wanted? I was lost in thought, trying to will some kind of expression he’d hoped for. Wasn’t it enough that I kissed him? I was still confused over what exactly happened. Was I making the best of a situation, or had my attraction grown after spending time with him.
At least my father was safe. I'd done the right thing and knew he'd be okay. The idea of him being “terminated” horrified me. Who used such language? I wondered if my husband was the one who would have taken him out, or would he have hired another hit man to keep his own hands clean.
"...the home I've chosen."
I realized he'd been talking, and I was completely unaware. "I'm sorry," I said, admitting my mind was clouded.
The car pulled up to the reception hall. Gino spoke to the chauffeur. "Give us a moment."
The driver nodded and waited outside of the car.
I looked to him.
Gino was gentle, yet firm. "I truly want you to be happy. I hope you can do me the favor of looking like you want to be here."
I got the message loud and clear. Act the part. I was no longer a stranger on the street, but his new wife. As a small gesture of kindness, I squeezed his hand. "I'm trying, really."
He understood, and was touched I'd reached out to him.
We'd present ourselves as a happily married couple to the people who waited.
Through the event, the dancing, the cutting of the cake, all I could think about was when it would be over. What would he expect of me? How silly and naive to even question that. I knew better. He'd expect me to fulfill the duty as his wife.
I'd never...well, not as far as that. I'd kissed men before, but I’d chosen to hold back my virginity until marriage. Ironic. It was all in vain, and would be given away like a traded object to the highest bidder. Gino had apparently won that bid.
I wondered if he'd be gentle with me, or disappointed that I didn't come with experience.
It was time to go home. At some point Gino and most of the men vanished in an adjacent reception room. The official excuse was cigar smoking or something but from the stern looks on their faces as they walked through the door, everyone knew this was something else.
After that, the reception seemed to move too fast. Going home meant that Gino would be expecting something more, something I wasn’t ready to give.
I sat quietly in the car as it drove to our new house he'd purchased. Our home would be made in Ocean Crest, next to the water. He’d picked out a cute two bedroom cottage, nothing over the top, but with an amazing view. That’s what my mother had said, unlike me she’d been unable to resist visiting it while it was a work in progress.
As we pulled up to the house, Gino asked the chauffeur to wait. He wanted to get the door for me himself. He offered his hand. Standing in front of the car he stooped to pick me up. Scooping me from my feet, he carried me to the front door. He reached down and turned the knob, pushed the door open with his knee and then over the threshold. I was suitably impressed.
* * *
12
Gino
After carrying my new bride into our house, I set her on her feet in the tiny vestibule. As she looked around nervously, I realized I needed to reassure her.
"Would you like to see what Barbara's crew has done with the place?" I asked.
She’d seen the layout of our home as I was planning the renovation, but never expressed the wish to even have a look at our home. Even her mother had been more curious than her, I was grateful for that visit as she’d made a few suggestions based on Isabella’s tastes. Her refusal to come had been frustrating for me and possibly more for Gia who would have loved her input as she mapped out the kitchen and designed the bathroom.
"Now?" Surprise and relief transpired in her voice.
"No time like the present." I opened the door to the main room and gestured for her to walk in as I turned the adjustable switch and flooded the room with light.
Her footsteps resonated on the wooden floor as she crossed the empty space to the open kitchen. She leaned over the granite covered bar to look at the shiny appliances, nodded and turned around with a big smile on her face.
"Your mother said you like cooking, so, Barbara and Gia picked some semi-pro equipment for you," I explained, happy to see that she liked the kitchen.
"You'll have to tell me what you like to eat," she said. "I'm good with traditional Italian but I love to experiment with exotic things."
I smothered the naughty smile growing on my lips as my mind gave those words a totally different meaning, Kama Sutra exotic?
"I was thinking of putting a dining room table here and then maybe an L shape sofa around there," I said pointing successively to two directions of the living room.
She shrugged as if she left it all to me and walked to the windows.
"That's going to be your first job as Mrs. Simone," I added to set her straight. "Pick what you like. Anything... you know. This is your home now."
Isabella didn't answer and I was unable to figure out if she would enjoy shopping for our new home or if I should have left my sister to pick everything out for us. I waited a bit and she didn't move until I said, "Come on, let me show you upstairs."
She turned slowly and began to climb the steps as I shut down the light and locked the front door. I caught up with her as she reached the tiny landing.
I opened the three doors for her. The layout was pretty standard for these ocean front houses.
The first door opened to a bathroom which now boasted a huge shower, large enough for two. The second door led to the larger bedroom. The main piece of furniture was my king size bed. I had taken possession of that room earlier in the week. My clothes were already occupying some of the closet space and my stuff was on my old bedside table. I needed somewhere to put my things while she looked for new furniture.
Before she had a chance to say anything, I opened the third door which led to the second bedroom. It was smaller but looked almost cramped with a queen size
bed, and next to the bed, the two suitcases and the few bags that contained all her belongings.
"You'll have to shop for furniture for those rooms too," I told her. "My only request would be black out shades because, you know, the eastern sun hits our windows real early..."
"Sure... There's no way to sleep when the morning sun gets in your eyes." Her eyes darted from one bedroom door to the other a few times before they landed on the suitcases.
"Come here, Isabella," I said.
She tensed making me realize I had spoken harsher than I wanted too.
"Shush, sweetheart," I cooed pulling her into my arms and pressing her head against my chest. I caressed her and spoke slowly to give my words the time to sink in. "Nothing is going to happen until you decide you’re ready."
She lifted her head to look at me and frowned. Clearly, she didn't understand. "You mean you don't want to ... umm ... sleep with me?" she asked puzzled.
I laughed and protested. "Of course, I do. Actually, there is very little else I've been thinking about since we stepped into the house, but I realize I need to pace myself. So we'll go at your rhythm."
"I don't get it," she said.
"Well, I'll be in the large room and you, well, you can sleep where you want," I explained. "If you decide to sleep in the other room, I won’t force your door. I’ll wait for you to decide when the time is right."
"Thank you," she whispered burying her head against my chest.
"I just hope you don't make we wait too long," I told her.
She lifted her head again and laced her finger in my hair pulling my face down to hers until her lips almost touched mine. Following her lead, I held her tighter and closed in.
I kissed her. I started tenderly and then, as her body molded against mine, I became more passionate. I knew now that the attraction ran both ways and drank in her reactions to my touch. I rejoiced as I realized there was still the treasure of sensuality to be discovered in my bride.