“Why are you so quiet? This is the night before your wedding!” Bella, a cousin, around Draven's age squeaks in that annoying voice of hers. She arrived from Italy a couple of days ago, tried taking over the rest of the arrangements with her mother, aunt Nina. Draven told them it was all arranged, nothing for them to do. They pouted as per but accepted it. It's not like they can argue with him. He's the head of the family, and they do as he tells them.
“Yeah, I know.” I try to force a smile for them all, I can't let them think I'm not happy about my wedding, and I definitely can't let them know I'm pregnant, I'll never hear the end of it. Isn't that what this is all about? My family not knowing I got knocked up before I was married?
“You're going to be a beautiful bride, just as your mother was.” My aunt Fia coos while cupping my cheek like elderly women do, kind of like a grandmother would.
I miss my mother right now, Fia is my father's older sister, his much older sister, she looks like him, as did uncle Vinny, Avery also. I sometimes wonder if she misses them, misses my father, but she was close to my mother and loved her like a daughter rather than a sister-in-law. She died when I was too young, I needed her, and with my father gone, the only person I had was Draven. I never really had any female influence in my life because I wouldn't leave my brother. Fia would visit every now and again and give me tips on how to be a lady and how to dress.
I used to love spending time with her, shopping, dancing, all the things a girl would do with her mother. I in no way felt like I was replacing my mom with her sister-in-law, but I did need that female bonding time.
When I look at Draven, I see my mama so clearly in his brown eyes. It hurts sometimes, but I feel like I still have her with me somehow when I look at him. I bite my lip to stop the tears from falling and wrap my arms around my aunt's neck. “Mio caro, whatever is the matter?” She soothes in her thick Italian accent.
“I'm just so happy you're here,”
“Oh, my tesoro, I will always be here for you.”
I know that to be true, and I know if I told her the truth, she'd tell me to leave with her and go to Italy, that she'd take care of my baby and me. However, I don't want that either. I want Jett. I want to be his wife. I want the life he could give me. I don't care that he's part of a motorcycle club, I don't care that he's a killer, I don't care that he hurts people for a living. My brother has done the same thing, worse, actually, all his life. All of the death that surrounds me is normal to me. No matter how crazy that sounds, it's just my life. It's all I know.
All too soon, the night is over, my family leaves to get some rest ready for tomorrow, and I take a shower and change into my nightwear. I need beauty sleep, apparently. However, as I stand in front of my floor-length mirror, looking at myself, I don't see whom I'm supposed to see. I'm supposed to see a strong, independent woman, a bride-to-be with a wonderful life ahead of her, but all I see is a sad, lonely, scared woman with no way out of the life she must now lead.
Tomorrow, I will become Maria Addario when I should be Maria Jackson. I stroke my stomach gently without taking my eyes from my mirror's reflection. I don't even recognize myself anymore. I've lost even more weight, I have dark circles under my eyes, and my skin is pale.
I can't afford to lose weight I'm pregnant, what the hell is weight-loss doing to my baby? I swear to God above that is not intentional. Maybe it's normal? I don't know because I've never had a child before. Makeup will hide the darkness under my eyes and even the paleness. I hope.
Is this as good as it gets?
Am I ever going to have anything to smile about again?
Well, of course, I am, my baby, but what kind of life is my child going to have stuck in a house with a mother and father that don't even like each other? Jovanni is old school Italian, and he's going to Lord it all over me. Me, the little wife. Staying home every day to cook, clean and take care of the child, or children. Because no doubt I'll be forced to have more to keep his family name going. He'll want a son of his own, they all do.
“You should be in bed.” I heard him knock, but he entered before I told him it was okay to do so. I could've been changing! However, my brother seems to know these things and I very much doubt he would have walked in here if he thought for a second he might see me naked.
“I know, big day tomorrow.” I smile slightly while turning to look at him.
My brother shoves his hands in his trouser pockets, rolling his shoulders at the same time. He's not wearing a jacket or tie, so I'm guessing work is done with for today. “When am I going to see you smile again, Principessa?”
“I don't have much to smile about.” And that's the truth. I fold one arm around my body and clutch my hip while I tuck my hair behind my ear with the other.
“Have I really made you this unhappy?”
I don't answer him. It's not like it will do me any good to protest about the wedding. I've done it a hundred times already, and it's gotten me nowhere. I won't say anything to ease his mind either. I'm not going to tell him what he wants to hear.
“Is there something you wanted, Dray? Only I need to get to bed.”
“I feel like I'm losing you, Cura l'orso.”
Despite myself, I chuckle. “Draven, I'm not a child anymore, you can stop calling me carebear.” He laughs, and I find myself smiling at him. He's a handsome man, a very handsome man. Every woman wants him. I know that's mostly because of who he is, but the way he looks helps.
“You're going to be a beautiful bride, Maria.” And... my smile vanishes. For a split second there I'd forgotten about the wedding. I was me again. I'll never be me again after tonight.
He hugs me to him tightly, I might want to scream at him for making me marry Jovanni, but I know his heart is in the right place. So I hug him back tightly. “Everything is going to be perfect. You'll see.” If only that were true.
Once he's out the door, I climb into bed and cling to the pillow that still smells like Jett, all the time the tears fall as I wish he could be here to hold me tonight. However, I have to face the fact that he'll never hold me again.
Chapter Twelve
Jett
This has to be a fucking joke! The whole MC has been invited to the Vidal wedding. Ar
e they fucking serious? They expect me to sit there in that damn church and watch my woman marry another man?
What the fuck does Draven Vidal think is going to happen if I attend? Because I'm telling you now, there is no way on this earth I'll sit there and let it happen. I'll blow the whole fuckin' church to smithereens first!
Cunt even wants us all there in suits. Fucking suits! Last time I wore a suit was at Willow and Nova's weddings. I didn't even wear one for Ghost's wedding!
Prez forced us all to buy brand new suits for this one though. I ended up with this dark gray bullshit suit. I look fuckin' stupid in it. I feel unfuckincomfortable. My chest is too fucking big for this jacket, and that's a damn fact. If I'd shopped around, I could have found one that would fit. However, I didn't, I just grabbed the first one that looked my size.
I told the Prez I wouldn't go, that I couldn't care less who went, but he wasn't to expect me to go. He told me that I don't have a damn choice and I better show up, or he'll break my neck. I mean, what the fuck is he trying to do to me? And since when do Mafia bosses ask bikers to attend the wedding of their sister's if not to punish the guy who loves her in the worst way?
Yeah, yeah, I said I loved her because I do. Never been in love or anything before, but the more time I spent with her on the nights I snuck over there, the more I fell for her, and I know she feels the same, I could see it in her eyes, I felt her heart beating in time with mine.
They have no idea what it will do to me to watch her marry someone else. It'll kill me inside. Because once she's married to him, there's no way she'll ever be mine again. She told me as much the other night. Being the good – almost innocent – Italian girl she is, once she's married, Maria will be faithful to a man she'd rather die than have touch her.