"Just getting a better look at you," he mutters. "You are so beautiful, Marzia..."
He sweeps his fingers over my cheek and I fight the urge to ask him to stop. He notices my discomfort and it makes him smile. He probably thinks I'm just shy. But that's not the case. I'd be more than eager for an interaction with Adrian Bernardi, but not Vitto.
"So innocent," he goes on. "Tell me, do you still remember that day in the docks?"
"How could I forget?" I mutter, still avoiding his gaze.
"Oh, I made an impression?" He winks at me and I groan inwardly. I need to pick my words better or else Vitto's going to think I've had a crush on him since I was seven years old, even though that couldn't be farther from the truth. "You liked me for a long time, then."
I remain quiet, avoiding answering his question as I hopefully glance toward the doors. "We should get to the party... Everyone will be wondering where the guests of honor are."
"I don't want to leave yet," he says, sighing heavily. "But you're right. Your father was kind enough to let me have a few minutes with you, but we shouldn't push it. Not on the first day we met. After all, he needs to be confident in the knowledge he's giving away a virgin at the altar, right?"
His grey eyes sparkle mischievously and something turns in my stomach. I have a bad feeling about this. And as the night goes on, it only gets worse and worse.
5
Adrian
The masquerade party is in full swing by the time I arrive. Getting past the guards is easy - too easy. The security around here is lax. I'd never let people near Marzia like this. But it speaks to my favor, and as I slip some money into the guard's hands at the door, he guarantees he won't tell anyone the Bernardis are in attendance.
Marzia doesn't make an appearance until three hours into the party. It gives us time to infiltrate De Luca's home. I have guards and shooters peppered through the house, all watching for my sign or a hint of trouble. Marzia's parents will be cursing themselves for inviting me here. That is, if they live long enough to see what I'm about to do to their sweet, innocent daughter.
The moment Marzia enters the grand hall, the entire atmosphere in the place changes. I feel her presence like a cold burn to my very soul, and my eyes search the room to find her. I'm not the only one who feels this change of pace, and it pisses me off to no end. There's applause and whistling as Marzia and her groom-to-be appear at the top of the double marble staircase leading into the grand hall. She's wearing a glittery pink dress that snatches her waist into a wasp-shape. Her tits are pressed up against one another, straining against the corset, and she's still tiny, despite wearing high ivory heels.
She's just as I'd imagined her. The little girl from those docks is all grown up and more irresistible than ever. Her hair is still the same shade of chocolate brown, her eyes a glittering shade of blue. Her skin is lightly tanned and olive-toned, and her body is thin, almost to the point of being frail. She looks... breakable. And that excites me.
Vitto Doneti stands behind her, a picture of masculinity. He's a head taller than her, his broad shoulders the perfect backdrop to Marzia's innocent posture. She's like a porcelain doll and he's the picture-perfect soldier toy ready to protect her at all costs.
My teeth grit together, my hands tightening into fists. I fucking hate seeing them together. The desire to rip them apart blooms inside me, making me mouth her name just so I remember the feel of it on my lips. Soon it won't be me saying her name. She'll be shouting mine as I bury myself in her silky depths.
The happy couple makes their way down the stairs, and I'm watching closely. My eyes follow them, glued to Marzia, eager for more of her sweet innocence. Donati reaches for her hand, but she pretends not to have noticed, making me smirk. She doesn't want his attention, which pleases me. I want her to turn him down. I want him fucking hurting because he wants her so much and she lusts for someone else. Me.
I can't take my eyes off her. The crowd parts, allowing them to pass through to the center of the room. Someone starts clinking their glass and then everyone does it. My fingernails dig into my palms. Like fuck am I going to watch them kissing right now.
I walk over to a tower of champagne glasses and bump into a woman standing next to it, blending into the crowd a second after she stumbles into the glass. It all comes crashing down, followed by gasps and cries. I smirk to myself. Mission fucking accomplished.