Luca Vitiello (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles 0.5)

“And what if I don’t?” she challenged. Anger was still simmering under my skin, but when wasn’t it? “Then I’ll use a condom. Either way, on our wedding night, you’re mine.” I opened the door. Aria staggered out. I hadn’t meant to terrify her, but she’d better get used to it. I wasn’t a kind man.CHAPTER 5Father sat with a self-righteous expression in the pew at the front as if this wedding was his ultimate triumph. I didn’t think a marriage to Aria would lead to indefinite peace with the Outfit. Maybe the euphoria of the union would carry us through a few more years, but that was it.

Matteo leaned closer when the string quartet and piano started to play, announcing Aria’s entry.

“Nervous? These are your last moments as a free man.”

I rolled my eyes at him. A marriage wouldn’t bind me the same way it would bind Aria. And free? That’s not something I’d ever been. From birth, I’d been bound to the Famiglia, and that wouldn’t change until my death. The Famiglia was the only thing that mattered in my life.

Matteo let out a low whistle and I followed his gaze toward the back.

Aria stood at the end of the aisle, white and golden. My eyes drank in every inch of her body, but a veil covered her face. My stomach did tighten for only a moment before I reined myself in.

When she and her father arrived in the front, he finally lifted her veil and, for the briefest moment, before Aria could mask it, I could see utter fear in her eyes. Damn it. Damn them all for forcing her into a marriage with me. But most of all, damn myself, because nothing in the world would have stopped me from making her mine, not anymore, not ever.

I held out my hand and Scuderi gave her to me with almost the same self-righteous smile my father wore on his face. Aria didn’t look at me. She was fighting for composure. Her hand was cold in mine, and a tremor went through her body.

I wasn’t sure what she expected of me.

The priest in his white frock greeted us, then the guests, before he began his opening prayer. It was tradition to get the church’s blessing, but I didn’t believe in a god. I doubted we’d all be here if there was one.

“Luca and Aria,” the priest addressed us. “Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage? Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”

Love. As if this marriage was about love. I didn’t love anyone and never would. Love was a weakness. Aria’s hand stiffened, and I wondered if she was stupid enough to hope for something like that. I would treat her with respect and perhaps even come to tolerate her as a partner, but love her? I almost laughed. The Famiglia, that was the only love I had. “Yes,” I said, because it was expected. Aria’s own yes held no hesitation.

The priest nodded, satisfied. “Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and his Church.”

I took Aria’s hands in mine and turned toward her. For the first time since she’d lifted the veil, she met my eyes. Her face didn’t betray anything, but her eyes couldn’t hide her emotions. Fear. Despair. Hopelessness.

Anger filled my bones. “I, Luca Vitiello, take you, Aria Scuderi, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

I tried to ignore her shaking when I slipped the ring on her finger. “Aria, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

She was mine now.

It was Aria’s turn to put the ring on my finger, but she was trembling too fucking much. I steadied her hand. People didn’t need to see how terrified she was of me. Matteo with his fucking hawk-eyes noticed, of course, and gave me a smirk. I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

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

Aria’s head shot up. She stiffened further and her eyes held trepidation and embarrassment. Fuck. I squeezed her hands. I wasn’t even sure why.

I hated to share this moment with all the fuckers in the room. I’d kissed so many women, fucked just as many, but this first taste of my wife…that wasn’t something I wanted to share. I knew Aria would have preferred more privacy—of course she would, this was her first kiss.

Her first fucking kiss.

I leaned down and brushed my lips over hers. It was nothing. More air than touch. Not worth a second thought, but damn, my body sprang to life anyway. Aria was mine.