“Good to see you, Father.”
“I have to say, I’m quite surprised at the low-key affair. A man with your...wealth usually stops at nothing to put on the biggest show.”
“My wedding isn’t about putting on a show, Father.”
“This is what makes me believe your and Gia’s marriage will last. Marriage isn’t about having the biggest, grandest affair. The amount you spend on a wedding does not indicate the amount of love shared between two people. Gia did not want a big wedding?”
I tug at the knot of my tie. “No. She wanted something small and simple. She and Elena planned it all.”
Which isn’t a total lie. While Elena did most of the planning, Gia did put in her two cents. Granted, her two cents were shot down. She wanted to only sign the papers and not go through the process. She didn’t want to wear a wedding dress either. It took a great deal of coaxing to get her to agree to the charade.
There’s no need to impress anyone but Father Paul Michael and pose for a handful of photographs that we’ll leak to the papers. Within an hour, I fully expect Lorenzo Parisi to send me a message. Only then will my revenge truly begin.
Music starts to play, and I whip my head to the side. I hadn’t agreed to an orchestra. Elena stands at the edge of the patio, a grin on her face as she plays with her phone and a speaker on the rock wall.
A moment later, Gia steps out onto the patio. Cazzo. I should have let her do this in sweatpants like she’d asked. The white silk gown hugs her curves and cups her breasts as if God’s hands are holding them up. The top of the dress dips in the middle, not so low that her dress is inappropriate for a wedding but low enough for me to notice the swell of her breasts. To see the valley in between them.
She wears her hair down and pushed to one side. A white flower is tucked behind one ear. Elena’s doing, no doubt. I tug at the collar of my white shirt, pulling it away from my body as I heat up under the sun. Or maybe the heat is coming from Gia’s fuckable body.
My dick grows hard, as it usually does around her, and I drop my hands to cover it. My suit coat will hide it fairly well. Still. I don’t need the priest and my bodyguards to see how easily Gia affects me.
No. Not me. My dick. It’s pure lust. Shit, my men probably have hard-ons as well. Who wouldn’t with Gia sauntering so innocently across the lawn?
“Hey,” she says softly as she steps beside me.
I nod, unsure what to say. Tell her how badly I want to throw her to the ground and bury my head between her legs?
I stare because I don’t know what else to do. To say. And this is incredibly unlike me.
“Are you two ready to begin?” Father Paul Michael asks.
I nod and face him. Better to stare at the small balding man than the soft curves to my left. He rattles on about marriage, reads some Bible verses, then asks us to face each other. I stare over Gia’s shoulder instead of looking into her eyes.
The next part will be the hardest. I’m an asshole. I’m arrogant. I don’t give a shit about anyone but myself and my family, but I don’t lie. The priest starts up again and asks me to repeat after him. I’ve prepared myself for this. For the lies I’m about to say.
“I, Rocco Anthony Parlatore, take you, Callista Gianna Parisi–” Father Paul Michael gasps as he reads the script.
I open my mouth to repeat after him and remember there are two things I had prepared myself for. His reaction to Gia’s identity is one of them. One I’d forgotten the second her tits tempted me from behind a curtain of white silk.
“Rocco,” he warns.
Gia bites her lower lip and I’m one second away from biting it myself.
“I believe Gia mentioned this at our meeting yesterday.”
“I...” he stammers. “I had no idea she was Lorenzo Parisi’s daughter. My dear, your father has been looking for you for a very long time.” So the priest is aware of Lorenzo’s power.
“I’m a grown woman, Father,” she says before I can come to her defense. “And if you knew what kind of man Lorenzo Parisi truly is, you wouldn’t question why I left and why I have no desire to ever see him again.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. She’ll be seeing him. Soon.
“I...if he learns of my involvement...” The priest turns as pale as Gia’s dress and I’m pretty sure he would have fainted if I hadn’t reached for his shoulder.
“He won’t hurt you, your church, or your parishioners, Father. You have my word.”
It plays in my favor that Lorenzo’s family were long time parishioners. Had I attended mass—or confession—I would have run into him more often. I’m not sure if he or Antonio Rossi will be more irate at the marriage. Either way, I’ll expose their dirty secrets and kill them both. Slow and painful.
“Father.” Gia speaks softly. “I’m a grown woman capable of making my own decisions.”