Beauty and the beast: A Modern Day Fairytale Billionaire Mafia Romance

by Georgia Le Carre

  I wore a pale lemon and white Dior suit. As I buttoned the box jacket I saw myself in the mirror. Who was that girl in the mirror? My eyes were glittering with excitement. So much had happened in three little weeks. My lips moved and out came words. “Hello, I’m Skye Messana.” The words didn’t sound foreign. They sounded right.

  I turned away from my reflection. I didn’t dare feel happy, but as I reached for a pair of cream shoes I couldn’t stop my hands trembling from sheer excitement and nerves. Taking a deep breath, I went out of my room and down the stairs.

  Luca was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. I nearly lost my footing when our eyes met. His were dark and possessive. He was dressed in a black shirt and dove gray suit. He looked like heaven. God, I was so in love with him I felt almost dizzy. I reached the bottom step and stopped.

  I felt the warmth of his flesh curl around on my wrist. I looked down and saw his hand, strong and tanned, against my own pale skin, and my heart thundered in my chest. What did this mean? What did any of this mean? My gaze lifted to his and he spoke.

  “You look beautiful,” he said softly.

  I wanted to say thank you, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t make a single sound.

  He led me to the car. Outside a cold wind lifted my hair and blew it into my face. I felt alive, every nerve was tingling. I was getting married to Luca Messana. The driver opened the door and I climbed in. I sat back on the leather seat. It had already been warmed in preparation for our entry. Luca slid his long body next to mine. I turned to look at him. A small smile lit his face. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  After that neither of us spoke. It was as if the moment was too important to spoil with words. I felt as if I was on a cloud. When we arrived at the church, the door was opened and I stepped outside to look at it. It was an ancient stone church. There were gray angels and gargoyles guarding it. This was where I was going to marry Luca Messana. People passing by turned to look at me. Maybe I was glowing with happiness.

  Then I felt Luca’s arm around my waist. We went up the steps. His men were around us. The great wooden doors were opened for us and we went inside. It was cool and dim. Pale winter light filtered in through the stained-glass windows. Our footsteps echoed as we walked towards the altar. I felt as if I was in a dream. A portly man with rosy cheeks in priest robes appeared from one of the doors. He beamed at us and came forward to greet us. He had a thick Italian accent. Luca introduced him as Luigi Sabella.

  A little while later we were standing facing each other. People I didn’t know stood next to us as our witnesses.

  “Do you, Luca Messana, take Skye Morrison, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

  “I do,” Luca said, his voice strong and filled with conviction.

  “And do you, Skye Morrison, take Luca Messana as your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

  “I do,” I whispered.

  He beamed happily at us. “By the power vested in me by God and man, I pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride.”

  Luca’s hand settled on the side of my chin and I returned my attention back to him. Then, slanting his head he leaned down and placed his warm mouth against mine. I had to force my hands from snaking around his neck and deepening the kiss. The moment was so special to me. I wanted to make it last and last.

  But I didn’t and his lips left mine. The priest congratulated us and we began to move towards the entrance. Outside Luca or someone who worked for him had arranged for little girls to throw rice at us. I stood there in a daze of happiness. If only this was real. But a little voice said, it is real. Enjoy it. It will never come back.

  We rode back to the house in silence.

  I was now officially his wife.

  When we arrived back at the house, Madam was waiting at the front door. “Congratulations, to both of you,” she said softly.

  Luca nodded his thanks.

  “Thank you, Madam,” I said.

  “You are now the mistress of this house. Please, call me Melania.”

  I smiled at her. “Only if you call me Skye.”

  Her eyes widened, but she nodded and stepped back.

  Luca led me to his den. A fire was roaring in the fireplace and the room was wonderfully warm. As soon as he closed the door behind me, he lifted me up into his arms and carried me over to the fur rug. Laying me on it gently, he pulled my panties off… and devoured me. There was no other way to describe the way he ate me out.

  Afterwards, he entered me. It was the best sex I’d ever had. I could tell by the awed expression on his face that it was the same for him. All those emotions, all the excitement rolled into a great wave of sensation that tore through us.

  “I have to leave for China in an hour, and I will be gone for a week, but you’ll stay here and wait for me, won’t you?”

  I nodded. I would always be here for him, for as long as he needed me.

  Chapter 46

  Skye

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJKm0KxQ2L4

  -Heaven Can Wait-

  The nights dragged without Luca. I was happy in the greenhouse with John and I spoke to my father every day, but as the day turned into night I found myself alone and missing Luca. I invited Katie to come and stay a night with me and she did. She still couldn’t believe I was married to Luca, but once she had got over the shock of Torrington Hall, we settled down to a girly night, ordered pizza, and sat watching rom coms with masks on our faces. But the next day she was gone.

  On the third night I was sitting reading a book in the Blue room, when Melania walked in.

  “Would you like anything else before I retire, Madam?” No matter how many times I reminded her, she always went back to calling me Madam and now I was resigned to the fact that it was what felt most comfortable to her. She couldn’t see me as anything else but the mistress of the house and her superior.

  I shook my head. “No. I think I’m fine.”

  “Goodnight then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Actually, don’t go yet, Melania. Come and have a little drink with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

  “Please. I could do with the company.”

  She ran her hands down her black dress and came forward. “All right. I suppose one little drink won’t hurt.”

  I was so pleased she had accepted my invitation. I jumped to my feet. “What would you like?”

  “Just a glass of white wine would be fine.”

  “Sit, please sit, Melania,”’ I invited as she stood awkwardly by the sofa. She perched at the end of the sofa opposite where I had been sitting while I filled two glasses with straw-colored liquid.

  I held a glass out to her and sat down.

  “Thank you, Madam,” she said, taking a dainty sip.

  “I’m not really the mistress of this house, you know.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Luca only married me because the FBI were going to force me to spy on him and if he married me they wouldn’t be able to make me testify against my husband. So I’m not really the mistress of this house.” I smiled to hide my pain. “Now will you please call me Skye.”

  She stared at me for a few moments, then she calmly took a sip of her drink before she spoke. “I do not know why the master married you, but I do know it is not because he was afraid you would testify against him.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugged one shoulder, an elegant gesture. “Well, does the master ever discuss business in your presence?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly,” she said simply. “Besides, I assume you found some method to let him
know the FBI wanted you to betray him.”

  I nodded.

  “So there was never any need to marry you. He could simply have asked you to leave the house,” she finished logically.

  I sighed. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. I owe money to the IRS and they were threatening to throw me in prison if I didn’t cooperate.”

  She took another sip. “Did you owe many millions?”

  “No, of course not. I don’t know exactly how much, because I haven’t calculated, but most probably less than a hundred thousand.”

  “That’s pocket change for a man like him. He could easily have paid your taxes for you and walked away free.”

  I put my glass down on the low table and looked up at her. “So why do you think he married me?”

  She smiled at me. “That I do not know. He is an unknowable man. In all the years I have worked for him I have found him to be deep and clever. Often he thinks way ahead and only years later do I understand why he has done something. I’ll even admit the first night he brought you here, I thought he had made a mistake. I thought you were a little golddigger, but I was completely wrong. He had picked a kind-hearted girl of great character and soul.”

  I blushed at her words. It really meant something coming from a woman like her. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “It’s the truth.” She put her half-finished glass down. “Now I must go. I have an early morning.”

  I stood with her. “Thank you, Melania.”

  “Thank you for inviting me to have a drink with you, Madam. It was very kind of you.”

  “The pleasure was all mine,” I said with a smile.

  Then we wished each other goodnight and she walked out of the room. I wandered over to the fireplace and stared at the dancing flames. I was caught up with my own drama. I had not looked at the situation with the calm logic that Madam had. Why had Luca married me? He was not in love with me. That much was clear. If he simply wanted to keep me here longer all he had to do was ask. Surely it was crystal clear I loved being in this splendid house.

  What was there not to love?

  Even now when it was winter and the days drew to a close too quickly it was like living in a fairytale, but once spring came I could spend longer in the greenhouse and the outdoors, it would be my definition of heaven on earth. Besides I was so appreciative of what he was doing for my father I would have stayed with him forever in a hut if he’d only asked. And that’s not even taking into consideration what he didn’t know… that I was deeply and irrevocably in love with him.

  The phone rang. I ran toward it. It was him.

  “Hello,” I whispered.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes to savor his voice. “Yes. Everything is okay.”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, then I’m taking you with me to Italy the next day. So prepare yourself to go away for a few weeks.”

  My eyes flew open. “A few weeks? Italy?”

  “Yes. A few weeks. Italy.” He sounded amused. “Have you got a passport?”

  “I have,” I answered automatically.

  “Good,” he said crisply.

  My brain felt scrambled. “Why are we going to Italy?”

  “So you can meet my parents.”

  Chapter 47

  Luca

  She was quiet, quieter than I had ever known her to be.

  We were on my private plane on our way to Sicily. At first she had seemed stunned by how easy and pleasant it was to fly without the normal constraints imposed on commercial flights. Without the long queues, humiliating pat downs by burly TSA staff, having to walk through radiation emitting metal detector machines.

  As we took our seats opposite each other one of the crew members came up to us.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Any kind of juice is fine,” Skye responded quietly.

  “I’ll have a whiskey,” I said.

  “Great. Here are your menus,” she said, putting two cards down on the table in front of us.

  Another hostess came and placed a plate of fruit in front of us with two small forks. Skye picked up a fork and speared a piece of watermelon.

  I didn’t know why but she looked sad, as if weighed down. I had forced her to marry me and maybe she just wasn’t ready for it.

  “We don’t have to stay married for too long,” I said softly. “After this whole situation with the FBI blows over, you’ll be free to go.”

  She stilled, but didn’t turn to look at me. “Okay,” she said and placed the fruit in her mouth.

  “Anyway, this marriage has to look real so I got this for you.” I pulled out the ring box from my pocket and leaning forward, placed it on her table. She stared at it, and then turned to me with her eyes wide. “You got me another ring?”

  I nodded. “The one you’re wearing is a wedding ring. You need to have an engagement ring too.”

  “Oh? Is it… is that necessary?”

  “It is. My parents will expect it.”

  Her gaze fixed on the velvety black box. Then she put the fork down and reached for it. She opened it and gasped. “Wow!” She looked up at me. “My God. Is this real?”

  “Of course.”

  I took the box from her, extracted the ring, and slid the ring onto her slender finger. For a second she did nothing, just stared at her finger in shock. It was a beautiful ring. I chose it from a selection offered from the best jewelers in Beijing and Shanghai, but I did not expect her to be this overwhelmed.

  She moved her hand and the sparkle from the main diamond was blinding. She looked up at me. “It’s really, really beautiful, Luca. It must have cost a lot.”

  “It did.”

  She nodded a few times. “Did you buy it in China?”

  “Yes, I had the best jewelers in Beijing and Shanghai send their wares to my hotel room, and I decided on this one. It is designed by an Italian designer called Aldo Morro.”

  “Well, it’s beyond beautiful. I’ll take good care of it and return it before I leave.”

  I frowned. “It’s yours.”

  Her eyes widened. “This is mine to keep?”

  “Of course. What would I do with it?”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say… or how to thank you.”

  I smiled slowly. “I know exactly how you can thank me...”

  She smiled back. “I hear these kinds of planes always have beds in them.”

  “This one certainly does,” I replied, my voice suddenly throaty.

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Can I see your bed?”

  And my cock ached for her. Since we were already in the air and the seatbelt signs were turned off… “I thought you’d never ask,” I said, as I rose to my feet and held my hand out to her. She put hers in mine and I took her to the bedroom.

  I let her precede me into the room, then shut the door and leaned against it.

  “That’s a big bed,” she murmured before she turned around to face me.

  There were no words in my head. I hooked my hand into the band of her jeans, my gaze on her beautiful face. All I wanted was to be inside of her once again, and to feel her so completely attached to me.

  Her hands came to the top button of my shirt and began to slip it out. Impatiently, I waited for her to finish unbuttoning. She took her time, bending her head to kiss and suck at the skin she was exposing. As the last button was undone I pulled it off and tossed it to a corner.

  Then I began to move her towards the bed. When she was settled under me, I released the button of her jeans and yanked the zip down. I kissed her through the lace of her underwear and her back arched off the bed.

  “Luca,” she shivered.

  I relished the sound of my name on her tongue. It felt as if I hadn’t had her in months, even though it was only last night I had been inside her.

  I ripped her panties off and flung them aside. I needed her, quickly, and urgently.

  Her mouth opened into a gasp. Covering her mouth
with mine I plunged all the way into her hard, and her surprised cry was lost in my mouth. She grabbed my forearms as I thrust into her. Again and again. Until we became one.

  We arrived past midnight in Sicily, and were immediately driven to my father’s large villa by the coast.

  Staff were waiting to take us upstairs to our bedroom. Skye was so tired she went to sleep almost immediately. I stood over her and watched her for a while. It was incredible how vulnerable and young she looked when she slept. I could hear the restless sea from one of the windows left slightly ajar and I wished Skye was awake. I wanted to take her down to the beach. Where we could walk barefoot in the cold sand.

  Unable to rest I went downstairs in search of my father. I knew I would find him in his polished oak study. He was an insomniac who hardly ever slept. He was seated in his usual place, on a dark green sofa, a goblet of cognac in one hand, and magnifying glass in the other. He was reading the newspapers. He was multilingual and had newspapers from all over the world delivered to him. He liked to read them at night when everyone else was asleep. He turned to look at me. I knew he was happy to see me, but there was no smile or welcome on his face.

  “I heard you arrive,” he said in Italian, putting the magnifying glass down and leaning back.

  I walked to the bar and poured myself a drink before I went and sat opposite him. “Mama is asleep?’ I asked.

  He made a sound of dismissal. “She tried to stay awake to wait for you and your new bride, but she fell asleep. Wait till tomorrow morning.”

  “I will,” I replied.

  “Where did you meet her?” he asked.

  “At a party,” I replied.

  He frowned. “I heard you bought her from the useless frog, Salvatore. Doesn’t this make you question her character?”

  “I know her character,” I replied coldly.

  “Hmmm. Time will tell.”

  “Time will tell,” I echoed softly.

  He accepted my words and moved on to a different topic.