Luca hardly left my fucking side at the wedding party. He probably worried I was going to lose my shit on everyone. He wasn’t wrong. Every time I glanced toward Lily and Benito, something snapped in my brain. I couldn’t stop imagining pulling my gun and putting a bullet in Benito’s head, and then one in Scuderi’s head for good measure. If I was lucky, they wouldn’t stop me quick enough.
Aria came toward me after dinner. I wasn’t sure if I could take her pity, but I wasn’t going to send her away. She was only trying to be kind. “You don’t have to stay, you know? Luca is here for my protection. This must be hard for you. Why don’t you go ahead and find yourself a hotel? I’m sure you don’t want to spend the night under the same roof with Benito.”
Tonight. So far I’d managed not to think about the wedding night too much. “No. I’m fine. I can handle this.”
Aria hesitated as if she wanted to say more but then she headed back to Luca.
When the party drew to an end, I could feel myself getting more and more agitated. And then what I’d been dreading happened. Benito and Lily rose from their chairs to head to the master bedroom for their first night together. A crowd followed them, cheering and making suggestions of what should happen tonight. My pulse quickened and my fingers longed to reach beneath my vest.
I trailed after them, though I knew it was the last thing I should do. I had always prided myself on my control but I could feel it trickling through my fingers.
I knew I’d said to Lily that I would accept her marriage. She had told me she didn’t want me. As a soldier of the New York Famiglia it was my duty to put them first. Wanting Lily could mean war. No, it would lead to fucking war. Dante Cavallaro was a calculating man but his soldiers had been waiting for a chance to tear into us again. I’d seen it in many of their eyes today. Things between us had gone steeply downhill in the past few years. The honeymoon phase of our union had waned off quickly after Luca and Aria’s wedding, and now this was a marriage of convenience, a marriage both the Famiglia and the Outfit wanted out of. The smallest infraction would be enough to blow up everything.
Without realizing it I’d followed the other guests into the lobby. I spotted Lily’s dark blond locks at the top of the steps, next to Benito’s ugly head, and a crowd of other men around them. And then my feet started moving, my hand going for my gun, my temples pounding with anger. I had to push through the crowd, and ignored the mumbles of protest. I couldn’t let that fucker Benito have her. Lily was mine, and would always be mine. If that meant a fucking war, then so be it. I’d spend until the end of my days hunting Russians and Outfit bastards if that meant I could keep her.
I sped up and then Luca was suddenly in front of me. I ground to a halt, breathing hard. I had half a mind to punch him, but I fought the urge. If I made a scene surrounded by so many people, I could screw up everything. Luca grabbed me by the shoulder and steered me into an empty corridor. He pushed me against the wall, making my ears ring, then he released me.
“Goddammit!” He snarled and gripped my shoulder again. “She’s not yours. She’s a married woman now.”
“She never wanted any of this,” I said harshly and shook Luca’s hand off. “It should have been me next to her at the altar.”
“But you weren’t. It’s too late, Romero. This is Chicago. We won’t start a fucking war because you can’t keep it in your pants.”
I got straight into his face. “This is much more than that and you know it.”
“I don’t care, Romero. You watched Liliana walk down that aisle and now you have to accept the consequences. She did her duty and so should you. Go to your room and get some sleep. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Luca was Capo. It was his job to look out for the best of the Famiglia, but right then I wanted to kill him. I’d never wanted to kill my Capo. “Yes, boss.”
Luca grabbed my arm. “I mean it. This is a direct order. I won’t have war over this. I’ve warned you about how this would end a long time ago, but you didn’t listen.”
“I won’t do anything,” I gritted out. Even I wasn’t sure if it was the truth or if I was lying. I hadn’t made up my mind yet.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Liliana
When people started to call for Benito and me to retire to his room, I felt the blood leave my face. Benito didn’t waste any time though. He took my hand and pulled me to my feet, and before I knew what was going on we were heading toward our room.
His palm stuck to the thin material of my wedding dress. It was sweaty and heavy and too warm. Slowly it traveled lower until it rested on my butt. I suppressed a shudder. I wanted to push his hand away, push him away but he was my husband and soon enough he’d touch me there without the protection of fabric, he would touch me everywhere, would see every inch of skin that was supposed to be Romero’s only.
Sickness washed over me, and I almost threw up. Sheer power of will kept my wedding dinner in my stomach. I glimpsed over my shoulder, even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do it. My eyes searched the crowd for Romero but he wasn’t there. Part of me was glad that he didn’t have to witness Benito pawing me, but the other, the bigger part, was disappointed. That silly part had hoped that he’d somehow stop this. Of course that would have only gotten him killed. They would have shot him on the spot and then war would have broken out. Many people would have died, maybe even Fabi, Aria, and Gianna. It was a good thing that he’d kept his oath, that he hadn’t interfered and let me do what was expected of me.
I turned back around and realized that we’d already arrived in front of our room for the night, a guest bedroom because the Brascis believed it was bad luck if a married couple spent their first night in the master bedroom. Benito opened the door and half shoved me into the bedroom. I froze in the middle of the room, listening to the sound of the door closing and Benito’s steps. “You’re a real beauty,” he said, his voice already thick with desire. “I wanted to be alone with you all evening. If it hadn’t looked rude, I’d have taken you to our room hours ago.”
Bile clogged my throat. I didn’t dare move from fear of vomiting onto my shoes. He gripped my arms and turned me around to him, then before I could even gather my bearings his mouth pressed against mine. I gasped, and he used the chance to thrust his tongue past my lips. He tasted of the cigars he’d smoked with the other men, and it made me feel even sicker. His tongue was everywhere. He didn’t give me the chance to do anything. God, this was horrible. My hands grasped his shoulders, fingers digging into his suit, and I shoved as hard as I could, but his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me even tighter, giving me no chance to escape. His breathing was quick and excited. He was so eager.
I didn’t want this. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears and desperately trying to imagine it was Romero kissing me, but everything about this felt wrong. The clumsy hands on my waist, the taste of him, the way he moved his tongue like a dying slug.
Ripping away from him, I drew in a few desperate breaths. His taste lingered on my tongue. I wanted to rinse my mouth to get rid of it.
Benito stepped in front of me again and leaned close. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take good care of you. I’m going to make you a woman. You’ll never forget this night.”
I knew I’d never forget it. I’d probably have nightmares about it for the rest of my life. Mother’s last words, the look in her eyes filled my mind. How could I have let it come this far?
“No, I can’t.” I took a step back. I needed to get away, out of this room, needed to find Romero and tell him that I couldn’t survive this marriage, that I wanted only him, that he’d always been the one I wanted and would keep wanting him till the day I died. I was being selfish, I knew. But I didn’t care about causing a war anymore if the alternative meant having to spend my life being touched by Benito. Maybe Luca could handle the situation. He was a good Capo. He could prevent war. Right?
Benito’s expression tightened, that sugary sweet smile being replaced by something more leery and hungry.
Fear settled like a weight in my stomach. He grabbed my arms too tightly, making me wince. “You are my wife and you will do what’s expected of you.”
“No, please. I’m not ready. I need more time.” Time to figure out a way out of this without getting everyone killed. There had to be a way where nobody got hurt.
Benito chuckled. “Oh, don’t try this bullshit with me, sweetie. I’ve been jerking off to the image of your perfect perky ass for weeks now. Tonight I want to bury my cock in it. Nothing in this world will stop me, not even your big puppy dog eyes.”
I opened my mouth for another attempt at begging but Benito pushed me backward. I cried out in surprise.
My heel caught in the hem of my wedding dress and then I was falling. I braced myself for the impact, instead I landed on something soft and bouncy: the bed. How could I have been this close to it?
I tried to scramble off immediately but didn’t get the chance. Benito leaned over me, his knees between my legs, pinning my dress beneath him. I was stuck. I struggled, but my legs were tied down by the fabric. And I panicked. Panicked like I’d never had before, not even when I saw the torture scene in the basement.
Benito lowered his face down to mine and then he kissed me again. I turned my head to the side so he slobbered all over my cheek. His fingers clutched my chin, forcing me to face him. His cigar breath washed over me and his chapped lips were too close. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Listen, sweetheart. We can do this the easy or the hard way. For your sake, I hope you work with me. I don’t give a shit either way. I like it rough.”
He meant it. He’d force himself on me if I kept up the struggling, I could see it in his eyes. I couldn’t expect any kindness from my husband tonight. Tears and pleading wouldn’t change his mind.
I willed myself to relax beneath him. He smiled in a condescending way and shifted his body, finally letting my dress free. He pressed up against me, his mouth wet on my throat. He licked his way down to my collarbone. I tried to imagine it was Romero and when that didn’t work, I tried to stop thinking about him altogether. Tried to be empty and numb, tried to cast my mind to another place and time, away from my husband who would have his way with me, no matter what I wanted. Benito shoved my skirt up and slipped his hand up my calf. He grunted appreciatively and pressed his body even closer against mine. I could feel how much this excited him. Whenever I’d felt Romero’s erection, I’d been excited, but this? Oh God. I couldn’t do this. But he was my husband and I was his wife. I’d chosen this way to protect everyone who wanted to help me. This was my duty, not only to him but to my family, to the Outfit. It was the fate of many women. They had survived and so could I.
I hated the sounds my husband made, the smell that wasn’t Romero’s, the way his clumsy fingers tugged at my dress. He was my husband. His hand traveled up to my knee.
My husband.
Then up to my thigh.
My husband. My husband. My husband.
His hand reached the edge of my panties and I couldn’t take it anymore. I lay my palms against his chest and pushed him off me. I wasn’t sure where I found the strength. Benito had at least seventy pounds on me, but he lost his balance and fell to his side. I leaped off the bed but my dress was slowing me down. I staggered toward the door, arms extended. My fingers were mere inches from the doorknob when Benito caught up with me. His fingers bruised my forearm with their grip, and he flung me back toward the center of the room. I couldn’t gain my footing quick enough and fell forward, hip bones colliding with the desk in the corner. I screamed out from pain. Tears burned in my eyes.
Benito pressed up behind me as I was bent forward and his erection dug into my butt. “Tonight, doll, you are mine.”
And there it was, right in front of me. I barely noticed Benito’s hands squeezing my breasts through the fabric. My eyes were fixed on the gleaming silver letter opener. Benito squeezed again, harder, probably angry because of my lack of reaction. I gripped the letter opener. It felt good in my hand, cold and hard. My husband tore at the edge of my corset. I tightened my grip on the opener and jabbed my arm backward as hard as I could. Benito stumbled away with a gurgling gasp, letting me free. I whirled around. The letter opener stuck out of his right side of his stomach. Blood soaked the white fabric of his shirt. I must have hit him really hard, maybe even injured him seriously. I’d never done something like that.
My lips parted in shock. I’d really plunged a knife into my husband’s stomach. His wide eyes stared. “You bitch, I—” He gasped and dropped to his knees. His ugly beetle eyes grew even wider as he rasped in pain.
I stumbled away from him. What if he called for help? What if someone saw what I’d done? I’d stabbed my own husband. They would kill me for that, and even if they didn’t, Benito surely would beat me to death if he survived the wound.
There was only one thing I could do, only one person who could help me and I wasn’t even sure if he still would after everything I’d put him through. After what I’d said and what he had to witness today. Maybe he wasn’t even in Chicago anymore. Maybe he’d already taken the next flight back to New York to get as far away from me as possible.
I rushed toward my bag, ripped it open and fumbled for my phone. With shaking fingers I keyed in the number I knew by heart. Benito seemed still dazed but he had gotten up on his elbows. He was gasping for breath, obviously trying to find his voice to scream for help. What if he came toward me? Could I finish what I’d started?
A new wave of panic hit me hard.
After the first ring, Romero’s familiar voice rang out. “Lily?”
I’d never felt more relieved in my life. He hadn’t ignored my call. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate me.