THE LEADER: an Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bad Romance Book 1)

by Shanna Bell

  Jazzy immediately walked over to her grandfather, wrapping her arms around his frame. They would never do that in public; he wouldn’t let her, believing it would make him look weak in front of the world. But here, inside, she could hug him all she wanted.

  “I would never do that,” she assured him. “Still, even if I married Detta, it’s no guarantee that Marco won’t come after me should anything happen to you. Technically, I would no longer fall under your protection. Marco hasn’t set foot on American soil for over a decade. He might not even know who Detta is.”

  “Oh, he will learn. And only a crazy man would go after the wife of a Detta.”

  But who was to say Detta would give a crap about her well-being after he’d gained control over Rossi Enterprises? After all, he would no longer need her.

  “Especially when it’s the wife of Giovanni Detta, their leader,” her grandfather continued. “There’s a reason they call him Black Ice. They claim he has a black heart and there runs ice through his veins. He never shows any emotion during a negotiation. Just puts down his demands, and it’s either take it or leave it.”

  Wonderful. She was going to become Mrs. Black Ice. Guess she had no choice but to become the global warming to his iceberg.

  CHAPTER 10

  JAZZY

  The next morning, Jazzy found herself in front of a large mirror in Giovanni Detta’s estate, wearing her mother’s old wedding gown. It was a simple champagne-colored one without sleeves. She had insisted on wearing the vintage dress instead of choosing one from the selection of wedding apparel that were shown to her by some bridal expert, courtesy of her fiancé.

  “How about this one?” Samantha tried once again. She’d been patiently trying to convince Jazzy to try on another dress. She could easily star in Say Yes To The Dress. “It’s a gorgeous handmade Dolce and Gabbana from silk. It has—”

  “No, really. I’m going to wear my mother’s old dress. You can take your Dolce somewhere else.”

  Gina groaned and looked as if Jazzy had committed a crime against humanity. Then her cousin downed what was left of her champagne flute and left. Carmen only gave a faint smile from over her chair at the window.

  “You know, not every woman dreams of a designer wedding dress,” Jazzy argued. “Or even of getting married at all. It’s because of fairy tales, and Disney, that girls are wired from a young age to want to become a princess wearing a tiara and puffy, pink dress.”

  Samantha looked as if she’d spoken in an alien language. The poor woman looked crushed when she learned she was going to lose the commission for an expensive wedding gown. Feeling sorry for her, Jazzy picked silk underwear, heaps and heaps of underwear—so, she had a weakness for expensive lingerie—and a pair of white satin pumps, putting a smile on the woman’s face. After that, Samantha finally left.

  Giovanni Detta hadn’t wasted any time in putting together the wedding, insisting it would be held at his place. Her grandfather had agreed, as he seemed to agree to anything concerning Detta. The family business must be in an even worse state than he’d told them.

  She was told the few guests had already arrived, including her husband-to-be.

  “You look beautiful.” There was a wistful tone in Carmen’s voice.

  “Are you okay, sis? You look a little pale.” As always, Carmen looked beautiful, regal as a queen, in her light blue dress that made her raven hair stand out.

  “I’m fine. I just wish… I wish you would have married out of love instead of duty.”

  Jazzy couldn’t stand the pain in her sister’s eyes. “Don’t worry. I will be fine.”

  “The concealer I just used to cover up the faint bruise on your cheek says otherwise.”

  Jazzy shrugged. “It wasn’t Gio who gave me the bruise, if it’s any consolation. Also, he took care of the guy who did give it to me.” She didn’t really want to think about what had happened to Jason. It had been an eye-opener; seeing the cool and collected Giovanni Detta change into a killer in a split second. She would never underestimate him again.

  Carmen seemed to contemplate that for a minute. “You know, I’m proud of you. Nothing ever gets you under.”

  There were plenty of things that got her down. Most recently, a certain dominant man in their library. “Well, you know what they say. As long as I breathe, there is hope. Or something like that.”

  “Spira, spera,” Carmen said softly. “Who knew you could quote Victor Hugo.”

  “Hey. I might not have majored in classical literature like you, but I do read, you know. Just not as much as you.”

  This finally made her sister smile. “There is a fire inside you, Jaz. Don’t let anyone snuff that out.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that, and as it was, she didn’t have the time for it, because a knock sounded on the door. Her grandfather took her arm, leading her down the stairs.

  The following hour—exchanging their vows, Gio putting a ring on her finger, signing the marriage certificate—went by in a blur.

  When the ceremony master announced that the groom could kiss the bride, Jazzy expected Gio to show his dominance over her. What followed though, was a slight peck on her lips. She looked up, unable to hide her disappointment, right into eyes that were burning like a blue fire.

  His hand caressed the small of her back, sending hot tingles up her spine. When she shivered, he pulled her close, his lips to her ear.

  “Later,” he whispered, his voice filled with promises. “No more running. You’re all mine now.”

  Her grandfather raised a glass. “To the new couple. Salute!”

  A cheer went through the guests.

  Gio took a sip, his eyes never leaving her. “To my bride.”

  When the notes to the first dance began, he held out his hand. She took it and let him guide her to the dance floor set up in front of the fireplace.

  Jazzy wasn’t sure what to say. Everything had happened so fast. One minute, she was traveling in Europe, finishing Mike’s bucket list, contemplating her next move; the next, she was kidnapped and dancing at her wedding. Maybe honesty was the key here.

  “I don’t know what to expect of this marriage,” she confessed.

  He didn’t say anything. His blue eyes were like an impenetrable wall of silence, not showing any emotion.

  “Obviously I won’t fight it,” she continued. “After all, it’s only for two years. I can live with that.”

  Still, no hint as to what he thought. His hand around her waist was drawing circles, keeping her on her toes for some reason. Okay, so the reason wasn’t that inexplicable. She was drawn to him like to no other man before. Still, that wasn’t enough for a basis for a marriage. She had no idea what he was thinking, feeling. No idea at all. And that made her uncomfortable. She worked with numbers, algorithms, stuff that by its definition was computer-based, without any emotion to it, but still logical. Sadly, Giovanni Detta wasn’t a piece of software she could tweak when needed, or upgrade once a month.

  From the corner of her eye, she spotted Gina’s sour expression. Her red dress made her cousin stand out in any crowd, but especially a small one of perhaps fifty guests. There was an accusation in her eyes, as if Jazzy had stolen her place in Gio’s arms. Jazzy felt no sense of guilt. She hadn’t wanted to be here, but now that she was, she liked it. Of course, that could change come tomorrow; but right now, defying all logic, considering how things had went down, it felt right.

  Standing next to Gina was Mary. Her smile lit up the room as she was speaking in an animated matter to Gina, who was barely listening. It always amazed her how someone like Mary, who had seen the worst parts of human nature, could still be a positive source of light. It amazed and humbled her at the same time. Unlike Jazzy, Mary didn’t seem to hold any rage or hate toward the man that had nearly raped her as a child. There was this peace inside her, a willingness to forgiveness, a determination to see the good in anyone. On all accounts, she would have made a much better bride to a man like Giovanni Detta.

/>   “Why me?” she had to ask. “And don’t tell me it was because you wanted me and I wanted you. A man like you doesn’t make life-altering decisions based on a whim.”

  “What would or could have been doesn’t matter anymore. It is done. You’re a Detta now. That’s all that matters.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to need more than that. Also, I’m not just a Detta. I’m still a Rossi too.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You will use my name.”

  Ah, there it was. Not even married for an hour, and he was already laying down the law. “See, this is exactly what I mean. You knew me for all of five minutes when you decided to pursue me. Did you ever consider for a minute that I might be the wrong Rossi girl for you? I’m not going to agree with everything you say just because you think you’re my lord and master.”

  “Lord and master?” He pulled her close to his chest, his warm breath on her ear. “I like the sound of that.”

  “I bet you do,” she murmured.

  “Are you telling me you don’t prefer me to master you in the bedroom?”

  Her eyes darted around, afraid someone might overhear. “Could we please not talk about this here,” she hissed. Thankfully, most of the guests were either eating or dancing. Even her sister Carmen was taking a spin with Gio’s youngest brother.

  Instead of pulling back, which she had expected him to do, he nibbled on her earlobe. Heat washed over her when she imagined what else he could do with those lips.

  “I’d like to talk about it now. So there will be no misunderstanding between us.”

  She snorted. “Shouldn’t you have discussed our compatibility in the bedroom before we signed the papers? It’s kind of late now, don’t you think?”

  This earned her a nip at her ear. Oh God, why did this make her almost melt?

  “You will let me take you however I want, bella. And not only in the bedroom. It could be anywhere, at any time, in any position I like. This feeling you have right now”—she shivered when he stuck his tongue in her ear—“that’s only the beginning. As for your question, no, I never doubted that you were the right Rossi bride.”

  She had no idea how to react to that or get back to their original conversation. Before she came up with a way, his brother Vincent “please call me Vince” cut in, taking Gio’s place.

  “Finally. A chance to dance with my pretty sister-in-law,” Vince said, giving her a wink.

  Jazzy didn’t know much about the Dettas, other than what info a quick internet search had provided her with. She did know that Vince was the second eldest of four brothers. There were two others; Jackson, the lawyer, and Luca, who was currently doing time for tax fraud. Nobody had mentioned Luca yet, but there was an empty chair next to the brothers’ seats with a black ribbon on it. Which basically answered the question of whether the Dettas still stood beside their brother, despite of him being a convicted felon.

  Vince had ‘player’ written all over his face. It made her think of her sister’s husband, Franco. Her eyes searched the room for her sister. Carmen was now dancing with a family friend. She still looked a bit pale, but Jazzy knew she loved to dance, so she wouldn’t be sitting anytime soon.

  “You don’t like me much, do you, Jocelyn?”

  She was surprised he’d picked up on that. At the same time, she felt a hint of shame for judging him while she didn’t know him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you that idea. I just… my mind is somewhere else.”

  His gaze followed hers and landed on her sister. A hint of understanding crept into his trademark piercing blue Detta eyes. “On your sister, Carmen.”

  “Yes.”

  “I haven’t seen her husband Franco yet.”

  “You know Franco?”

  A chill crept into his eyes. “Yes.”

  “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” she said, swallowing down a hateful remark over the possible whereabouts of Franco. Which was probably in some broom closet. The Detta mansion was huge, two stories high. The rat bastard could be anywhere.

  “I have never seen my brother raise a hand to a woman.”

  His words startled her, and also made her a bit flustered. For some inexplicable reason, she felt as if she was caught in a wrongful accusation to Gio’s character and that felt wrong. She shook her head. “I didn’t think… I wasn’t…”

  She thought about how she’d witnessed Gio stab a man, showing not even a hint of remorse afterwards. Who knew what a man capable of that could do to her the second she angered him? Truth be told, she was afraid to end up like her sister. She was afraid of having to suffer in silence, especially since she wasn’t any good in the being silent part of said suffering.

  She also knew that the second she signed the marriage certificate, she was on her own now. As much as her grandfather loved her, he would never entertain the thought of meddling in her marriage. No matter how dire her circumstances. In his world, to his generation, a woman was the one making the house, keeping her husband in check. If things went awry, then surely the wife was doing something wrong. Going to the police and bringing shame upon your family was just not done. Not to mention the fact that Giovanni Detta had extremely deep pockets and, no doubt, wielded a lot of power. And he had already demonstrated that, no matter where she fled to, he would find her.

  Vince’s gaze softened. “Our father was no angel. In fact, that might be the understatement of the century. But if he has taught us one thing, it was to never raise a hand to your woman. Gio can be… tough to deal with sometimes. He certainly always believes he’s right, fueled by the aggravating fact that he usually is.”

  She laughed when Vince gave her a sour look. “There’s no way I’m going to repeat that to him.”

  “You shouldn’t, sis. It would only inflate his ego, and he would become unbearable to live with.” Then his gaze turned more serious. “Whatever flaws my brother might have, being overbearing, overprotective, it comes from a good place. He does it out of a feel of responsibility, as head of this family. Never forget that. Once you’re a Detta—especially his wife—it means you have a permanent spot on his mind. To protect and to provide for.”

  That last part sounded as if he was quoting someone. He must know that this was a marriage of convenience, but didn’t throw that in her face. Instead, he tried to make her feel welcome. Oddly, their conversation did make her feel better.

  There suddenly was some commotion near them. She gasped when she saw her sister passed out on the dance floor. The music stopped playing as Jazzy rushed over to her. Vince kneeled by her side in a beat. She looked around for Franco, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Vince then picked Carmen up, taking her upstairs, with Jazzy and Mary hot on his trail.

  Jazzy hastily walked before them and opened the first door she saw on the left.

  “Not that one,” Vince said.

  “Why not?” She quickly peeked inside the room. It was masculine, dominated by a huge king-sized bed against the wall.

  He gave her a crooked grin. “I don’t think my brother would appreciate finding his sister-in-law in his bed, instead of his bride.”

  Apparently, this was Gio’s room, which meant that as of now, it was also her bedroom. “Right.”

  Carmen stirred in Vince’s arms and opened her eyes. “What happened?”

  Relieved that her sister came to, Jazzy released a breath. “You fainted.”

  Carmen tried to get out of Vince’s arms. “Oh. I’m fine. Please put me down.”

  “You’re not fine,” he snapped. “You look as pale as a ghost.”

  Jazzy followed Vince into the room across from Gio’s—no, their—bedroom. Vince carefully put her sister on the bed, and then left.

  Mary immediately put some pillows behind Carmen’s back and rushed to the sink to get her some water.

  “Please promise you’ll stay the night,” Jazzy urged her sister.

  “I can’t. Franco will be looking for me, and…”

  “I’m sure he’ll be on his way. When he does,
I’ll send him to you.” Even though the prick doesn’t deserve you.

  Although Jazzy couldn’t care less about her wedding, she knew she couldn’t stay away any longer. She wasn’t sure how long it would take before her absence would be noted, and how Gio would take it. She didn’t want to anger him on their first day as a couple, setting the tone for the rest of the marriage, however long or short that may be.

  Mary seemed to be of the same mind. “You should go back to your guests. I’ll stay with Carmen until she feels better.”

  When her cousin was adamant about Jazzy returning to the reception, she was left with no choice but to leave.

  On her way down, she finally managed to locate Franco. By accident, that is. He was just sneaking out of a room adjoining in the hallway, followed by a blonde with mussed up hair, wiping her lips.

  Jazzy didn’t remember the woman’s name, but earlier, she had seen her on the arm of another man. She grabbed the hem of her gown and stepped up to Franco. “Very classy. Getting a blowjob while your wife just passed out on the dance floor.”

  Franco looked caught when he saw her. “It’s none of your fucking business whom I fuck,” he snarled.

  “And I couldn’t care less, if you weren’t married to my sister. Sadly, you are.”

  The blonde had frozen, an unsure look passing on her face as to whether she should stay or go.

  Franco made a step toward her, trying to get in her face, but suddenly his demeanor changed. In fact, it changed so fast, Jazzy almost got a whiplash. She followed his gaze to the point over her shoulder.

  Gio stood behind her. When he put a hand on the small of her back, for some reason, she relaxed.

  “Problem, Caruso?”

  Franco cleared his throat. “No problem. I was just wishing my sister-in-law a long and happy marriage. Gave her some pointers, you know. About how to keep her husband happy.”