“Speak for yourself,” I said. “Only because you didn’t give Leona any fireworks in your first night, doesn’t mean I’ll fail too.”
Fabiano rolled his eyes.
Remo smiled twistedly, his eyes following his wife.
“Any tips?” I said.
“Whiskey goes well with the taste of blood.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Thanks.”
Fabiano shook his head, covered Aurora’s ear with his palm. “Aurora will be banned from visiting your mansion once she’s older.”
Diego came over with impressive bags under his eyes. We shook hands and he probably would have uttered another warning if a murmur hadn’t passed the present guests.
I followed their gazes toward the entrance of the church and let out a low whistle.
“That girl is going to get someone killed one day,” I said.
Luca Vitiello towered in the doorway with his stunning wife and even more stunning daughter. His son was already taller than his three years older sister.
“How old is she?” Diego asked.
“Twelve,” Fabiano said in warning. “And you better look at something else when they come over, or Luca’s going to cut you down.”
“Luca won’t cut down anyone in my territory,” Remo said with a dangerous smile.
“If someone checked out Greta in that age, would you hesitate to cut them down if you were in Luca’s territory?” Fabiano asked.
I scoffed. Remo would rip the fucker’s throat out with a smile.
Kiara, followed by Serafina, entered the room, and I wanted to disappear in the ground. Kiara appeared even more flustered than I felt. They both took me in.
“God, you are so beautiful, Gemma,” Kiara said, pressing a palm to her mouth.
Serafina nodded slowly. They both were absolutely stunning. Kiara in a long red dress that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin and dark hair, and Serafina like a regal angel with her straight blonde hair and a dark blue dress. “You will bring Savio to his knees.”
I wasn’t sure how my marriage with Savio would be.
“Your mom asked us to talk to you,” Serafina said, coming closer.
“I really don’t need a talk,” I said quickly. “I already talked to… someone.” I couldn’t really say that I’d talked to Toni because it wasn’t public knowledge that she’d slept with Diego.
“Well, I wouldn’t rely on Savio’s ample knowledge alone, if I were you,” Serafina said.
“Did you ever meet any of the girls?”
Kiara touched my arm. “No. Savio never cared about any girl enough.”
Serafina leaned in. “From this day on, you’re the only girl that matters. Like I said, you need to bring him to his knees.”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“Oh yes,” she said, exchanging a look with Kiara. “Every man can be brought to his knees.”
They’d have to know. They were married to Nino and Remo.
“So, you’re sure you don’t want to ask us anything?” Kiara asked softly.
“One thing…among Traditionalists the bloody sheets tradition is still upheld but since your family isn’t very conservative, I was wondering if there’s something like that.”
“No!” Both of them said at once.
Serafina touched my shoulder. “You decide if you want to sleep with Savio, only you. There won’t be any bloody sheets or anything else putting pressure on you and please promise me that you won’t let him push you into anything you don’t want to do.”
I smiled at their concern. “I won’t.”
Savio had made me wait a long time before he’d made up his mind, first about our engagement, then about our wedding. He could wait for what he wanted a while.
I loved Gemma in tight clothes that showed off her breathtaking curves, but I’d been expecting her to opt for a modest wedding dress. After all, the spectacle took place in church and her family was in attendance. So, seeing her in her high-collared, long-sleeved dress with the veil covering all of her face didn’t come as a surprise, what did, was that she knocked the breath straight out of me. A hush fell over the crowd.
An apparition of white.
Diego led her toward me. The closer they came, the more of Gemma’s face became visible through the fine material of her veil. They stopped beside me, and Diego pulled back her veil. The tender look that passed between them made me forgive Diego for the veiled threats of the last few weeks. This was his little sister. I’d never had a sister to protect, but I had Greta.
I held out my hand, surprisingly steady, and he handed Gemma over to me with a curt nod. His jaw was locked tightly as he turned and headed to the first row where our families sat.
Gemma’s hand was shaking against mine, beckoning to my protective side. I slid my thumb over her soft skin and was rewarded with a small smile. Leaning down, I whispered. “You look like a princess, Gem.”
The smile got a bit wider, then the priest started his sermon and Gemma’s expression became focused. I zoned out. This spectacle was for Gem, nothing else. I still didn’t believe in any of this hocus pocus.