Sweet Temptation

She looked marginally older thanks to the makeup and her elegant dress. Still, her fine-boned, clammy hand in mine and the innocence in her eyes reminded me of her age.

Despite her youth, she kept her head high, appearing at ease with the situation. Only I could feel her trembling. Her “I do” was firm, as if this bond was really her choice.

While we exchanged the rings, Giulia kept throwing uncertain glances up at me. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Maybe wistfulness or even sadness. I remembered my first wedding. Sadness wasn’t part of my feelings when I thought of Gaia.

“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said.

Giulia’s eyes widened a fraction, as if that part of the ceremony came as a surprise. Hundreds of eyes watched us, one set belonging to my Capo. I cupped the back of her head and bent low. She remained frozen, except for her eyes which fluttered shut a moment before I firmly pressed my mouth against hers. Until this moment, physical closeness with Giulia had seemed like something that I’d have to force myself to allow, a struggle forgetting her age and the baggage I carried with me. Now, as her soft lips touched mine and her sweet scent hit me, a deeply buried desire kindled inside me. Claiming her tonight wouldn’t be a problem. Being a better man definitely wasn’t in my future.

I pulled back, causing Giulia to open her eyes. She held my gaze, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Then she gave me a small, shy smile. So goddamn innocent.

I straightened, looking away from her pretty, young face. From the corner of my eye, I saw her puzzled expression before I led her down the aisle and out of the church for the congratulations.

Faro, of course, was the first to congratulate me. He clapped my shoulder with a challenging smile. “And how was the first taste of your young wife?” he asked in a low voice.

I scowled. He knew very well that I rarely shared information like that. It didn’t stop him from asking, of course. He stepped back and faced Giulia, giving a small bow. Her answering smile was the kind of unguarded friendliness that gave proof of her age. As my wife, she’d have to learn to be more restrained. Gaia had been the perfect hostess and trophy wife, poised and a master of social etiquette, a quick liar, someone who smiled at you one moment only to stab you in the back the next. Giulia wasn’t like that. She’d have to grow up quickly, learn the ins and outs of being an Underboss’s wife.

My eyes lingered on the small sunflowers in her updo. Those would have to go first. Too lighthearted, too quirky. Nothing I appreciated. The sunflower earrings were even worse. She should have worn the jewelry I sent her. I leaned down to her. “Why didn’t you wear the diamond earrings I bought for you?”

I jumped at the cold disapproval in his voice.

Mom and Dad headed toward us to congratulate us, which didn’t give me much time for a reply. “They didn’t match the flower arrangement.”

I’d fought Mom for weeks over having sunflowers as part of my bridal flowers. Eventually, Dad had settled the matter in my favor, as he usually did.

“You shouldn’t have chosen sunflowers. Next time I send you something to wear, I expect you to do it.”

I blinked, too stunned for a reply. He straightened. For him, this matter was settled. He’d given an order and naturally expected me to obey. There was no doubt in his mind that I would. His expression was steel when he shook Dad’s hand.

Mom pulled me into an embrace, dragging my eyes away from my husband. A frown appeared on her face. “Look happy, Giulia,” she whispered. “Don’t you realize how lucky you are? I’d have never thought we’d manage to marry you off to an Underboss, considering all of them were already married. This is such a stroke of luck.”

My smile felt stiff. What was a stroke of luck? That Gaia Moretti had died, leaving two small children behind? That I was married to the man who might be responsible for her death?

Mom’s expression pinched. “For God’s sake, try harder to look happy. Don’t ruin this for us.”

Mom didn’t even realize how cruel she was.

Luckily, Dad stepped up to me and hugged me. I sank into him. He and I had always been closer, but recently my resentment had clouded our relationship. “You look beautiful.”

“I don’t think Cassio agrees,” I muttered. Dad pulled back, searching my face. His guilt and worry added another weight to my already heavy heart.

“I’m sure he appreciates your beauty,” Dad said quietly.

I kissed Dad’s cheek, and he reluctantly moved away to make room for Cassio’s parents. I’d never talked to them and had only seen them from afar at a couple of social functions. Mr. Moretti shared Cassio’s dark blue eyes, but his were clouded and his impressive size was diminished by the fact that he supported his weight on a cane. Cassio’s mother was elegant and beautiful with dark blond hair pulled up into a perfect chignon. Behind her, Cassio’s sisters waited, no less graceful and poised. That was how I was supposed to be. Cassio didn’t want me for myself. He wanted me to become someone he required. Accessories in his life.