A hush fell over the crowd when the music began to play and Kiara appeared at the end of the aisle. She had chosen an elegant dress with a veil that covered her shoulders. Felix led her toward me, but Kiara never raised her eyes to meet mine, instead keeping them fixed on my chest.
When Felix handed her over to me, her hand shook in mine. I pressed my thumb against her wrist, feeling her pulse raced under my fingertips. I regarded her face. Her expression was neutral, but in her eyes was a look I’d often seen in people’s eyes before I started to torture them.
Given our reputation, her terror was understandable, but it was completely unfounded. She wasn’t my enemy but my wife. I hadn’t given her reason for that kind of reaction.
She never once glanced my way as the pastor gave his long-winded sermon and finally declared us husband and wife.
“You may kiss the bride,” the pastor said.
I turned to Kiara and her pulse sped up even more. Her terrified eyes finally lifted to mine, and she swallowed hard. Holding her gaze, I cupped her cheek, ignoring her trembling, and pressed my lips to hers. They were soft and quivered against mine. When I pulled back, she swallowed again.
We made our way past the guests and stopped beside a table, which had been set up with champagne flutes.
After we’d accepted congratulations from our guests, the buffet was finally opened. Kiara was tense throughout dinner and hardly ate anything. She only relaxed when she got up and walked over to Aria and the other Scuderi sisters to talk.
“Excited about making your wife bleed tonight?” Remo asked the moment she was out of earshot as he leaned back in his chair. I was surprised he’d bothered to wait until she couldn’t hear his words.
Leona’s eyes widened, and she looked up at Fabiano. “He’s referring to the tradition of the bloody sheets that the Famiglia still upholds. It requires the groom to present the sheets he and his bride spent the night on.”
Leona pursed her lips. “You are joking, right?”
“And they call us barbaric,” Remo said with a smirk. “But I have to tell you, I envy you your chance to spill some blood tonight. It’s been too long. I really want to kill someone.”
Fabiano rolled his eyes at Remo.
“When has there ever been a day without blood in our lives?” I asked.
Remo’s eyes tightened with an emotion I could not read. “True,” he said. “Remember, no taking her up against the wall or bent over the desk. Bloody sheets is what the dear Famiglia wants.” He raised his glass and took a sip of wine, but neither of us would get drunk today.
“Don’t worry. I will provide bloody sheets.”
Remo smiled twistedly. “I know you will.”
My eyes found my wife again. She was still talking to the Scuderi sisters but turned her gaze to me when she noticed my attention. She tensed and swallowed, the hand holding her glass shaking slightly.
Fearing me like she did, she’d probably bleed her second and third time as well. I knew how to please women with my hands, tongue, and cock, but even sexual skills had their limits when faced with terror.
When it was time for our first dance, I stood and Kiara came over to me, accepting my outstretched hand. I led her toward the center, and our guests gathered around us to watch. She allowed herself to look into my eyes for longer than she ever had. Fear and uncertainty flickered across her face. When she didn’t find whatever it was she was looking for, she lowered her gaze back to my chest and swallowed hard. It must have been her way to suppress the fear.
I touched her lower back and pulled her against me. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, a strong sound of unease. I regarded her face. She was breathing faster and her cheeks had paled. This was only a mere dance. If this unsettled her, the consummation of our marriage would be particularly unpleasant. She wasn’t the type to fight, too dutiful and raised to please. She would yield to me, but it wouldn’t make things any easier for her.
Maybe words of consolation would have soothed her terror, but I wasn’t a man who comforted others.
The song ended. As was expected, Luca, the Capo who had given her to me, stepped up to take over. Kiara didn’t soften. She was as scared of dancing with him as she was of me. I forced myself to release her. She wasn’t in danger. This was a dance. There was no reason to make it out to be more.
I turned to Aria. Luca narrowed his eyes at me. I ignored his unreasonable reaction and held out my hand to his wife. She took it and gave me a smile. She was a good actress. If it hadn’t been for the slight tension in her fingers and the acceleration of her pulse, I might have believed her expression.