I had a feeling my balls were going to be blue before I got any relief.
But that was the choice that I’d made.
It was also why I’d gone ahead and let the housekeeper suck my dick that morning before the plan was officially in motion. It was the last release I would get for a while that wasn’t done by my own damn hand.
That shit I’d said to Isabella had just been to see how she would react.
I wasn’t disappointed.
Sure, the motivations might have been selfish, not wanting other people to think she was someone not worthy of the respect of her husband, but I liked to hear the possessiveness in her tone.
Even if it had nothing to do with me.
I figured that one day it might.
“Is that the flowers?” I asked, coming down the stairs to see Terzo standing in the kitchen with a box on the counter.
“I haven’t opened it yet,” he said as I made my way into the space. “Why are you bothering with flowers anyway?” he asked.
Young.
And therefore a little bit stupid.
“Because she will be my wife,” I said, pulling the top off the box to reveal the peach peony bouquet I’d ordered. Because when watching Isabella while planning the whole situation, I’d noticed she only ever picked up peach peonies to keep at her apartment.
“But it’s not a real marriage.”
“It will be a real marriage,” I told him. “It might not be traditional, but it is real. And because it is real, she will be afforded at least the smallest of gestures that convey how seriously I take the institution. So my wife will have a bouquet. Just like she has a dress and shoes and a ring.”
“I’m not getting married,” Terzo said, shaking his head.
“That’s exactly how you should be thinking at your age,” I agreed. “Until you are mature enough to give marriage the consideration it deserves. Are our brothers almost ready?” I asked.
“They are waiting downstairs.”
“Good. And the church is ready?” I confirmed.
“The priest is waiting.”
“Good,” I said, going through the list in my head, not wanting to miss anything. “Do you have the other box?” I asked, watching as my brother shook his head as he reached into his breast pocket to produce the black jewelry box. “I could get another best man if you have a problem,” I reminded him. “I’m not short of any brothers to choose from.”
Aside from Terzo. And Due.
Who was hopefully being sodomized with cacti in hell.
Love and loyalty were never given blindly. There were always rules. There wasn’t such a thing as unconditional anything in this world. And there shouldn’t be. Everything should come with conditions. Everyone should have lines that others are not allowed to cross.
I don’t care if you’re my soldier, my best friend, my brother, or my damn son. If you messed around with kids, I would disembowel you without hesitation. I was genuinely pissed off that I didn’t get a chance to confront Due myself over his actions. That was something that never should have needed to go before The Commission. I would have gladly taken care of it myself had they approached me with their information.
That was the whole point of this alliance. They would feel comfortable coming to me with issues now that I had one of theirs in my life and world. All this moving behind one another’s backs shit would stop.
“The fuck is taking so long?” I grumbled, checking my watch when it felt like an hour passed. She only had a dress and shoes to get into. It’s not like she had makeup to put on or anything.
In fact, I decided I liked her even better without it. She’d wiped away all the evidence of it from earlier. Which made her face seem more open. More, I don’t know, vulnerable and readable.
I was going to go right ahead and not mention that to her, though. If I did, she would probably wear makeup day and night, even to sleep, just to spite me.
I had no delusions about how she felt about the arrangement and me.
She’d managed to suppress the flinch when I’d reached for her, but there was no mistaking the fear that crossed her eyes. I’d seen that look too many times on countless numbers of faces. There was no mistaking it.
“Here we go,” Terzo said as, sure enough, there was the sound of heels on the platform outside the bedroom. “Damn,” he said before I even got a chance to turn.
It took a lot to impress my persnickety brother, though, so I turned immediately, watching as Isabella came down the steps in her wedding dress.
It was a dress, not a gown.
I’d gotten the impression that while she did like her fashion, that she seemed to prefer simple and sleek styles, timeless designs.
So I’d chosen a simple creamy pearl-colored silk dress with a hem that nearly made her shoes disappear entirely. I’d underestimated just how short she was, it seemed. The bodice of the dress was demure but not prudish, and the straps were thin, leaving her tanned shoulders bare.