Ultimately, infidelity was the reason I no longer had a mother. I wouldn’t do the same thing to Elenora, who’d done nothing to deserve any of this.
You’re a brute.Her hissed accusation snaked through my mind.
Yes, I could be brutal. I had plenty of blood on my hands, and I wouldn’t hesitate to defend what was mine.
Elenora was mine, whether she liked it or not. I would never harm her, but I would do what was necessary to keep her in line. It was for her own good. I would protect my fragile young wife, no matter how defiant she might be.
I glanced over at her again. Her spine was straight, her chin lifted. She walked by my side with graceful, sure strides thatmatched my own as we made our way down the long corridor to the ballroom in my family home. Her slight body might be utterly breakable, but I got the impression that Elenora wasn’t fragile. Another woman might’ve dissolved into sobs after being kidnapped and spanked. My bride held her head high and faced her fate with dignity.
Despite everything, a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Yes, she would make a good wife for me. She would be my queen, a woman I could be proud to have at my side. She was lovely and poised, and she hadn’t broken beneath my hand, even if she had bent to my will.
We reached the ballroom doors, and I gently gripped her elbow to remind her not to try anything foolish. In a moment, we would be before the officiant. There was no time for tears or arguing.
She jerked slightly beneath my touch, and I firmed my fingers around her arm. She sucked in a breath, and her lovely hazel eyes flicked to mine. The rich brown of her irises was brightened with striations of soft green, a fascinating pattern that I would study at my leisure when I had her bound to my bed. Her thick, dark lashes swept her brows as she stared up at me, eyes wide with shock. She was still struggling to process her new reality.
I understood. I hadn’t planned to marry until I’d discovered Giuseppe and Dante’s treachery only a few hours ago.
My thumb brushed the bare skin of her upper arm, and her flesh pebbled beneath my touch. I wasn’t sure if her shiver was one of revulsion or a primal feminine response.
I shook my head and looked forward once again, breaking away from the puzzle that was my pretty bride. I had a lifetime to learn every nuance of her expressions. There was no time to linger now, no hesitation.
“You’ll be fine, Elenora,” I rumbled. “I’ll take care of you.”
Her slender arm stiffened in my gentle grip. She didn’t believe me.
I would just have to prove my intentions to her after the ceremony. Once I had her in my bed, I would show her how good it could be between us.
Forcing my full attention back to the task ahead, I pushed open the door and revealed the opulent ballroom where we would seal our fate. Only three people waited for us: the officiant and my two best men, Lorenzo and Gabriele. They’d driven in the car ahead of us and had arrived first; my closest friends had accompanied me to steal Dante’s bride.
Truly, it was a stroke of luck that we’d found her outside her house. It’d saved us the trouble of going in to get her, which could’ve turned violent, no matter my intentions. And I wasn’t at all certain that I would’ve had the willpower to prevent myself from attacking Dante and Giuseppe if I’d laid eyes on the traitors.
But we were fortunate, and no blood had been spilled.
I led Elenora toward the makeshift altar, her heels clicking across the marble floor and echoing through the empty, cavernous space. Once we sealed our union, I’d host an elaborate wedding reception, and the ballroom would be full of my allies—and my enemies who would’ve stuck a knife in my back. Even Giuseppe would be invited, and if he was smart, he’d keep his attempted coup a secret from my father.
I had no intention of telling my old man that his best friend had tried to betray his dying wishes for me to take control of our organization. Dad was too frail to even come downstairs for this ceremony. News of the scheme would be a dagger in his failing heart.
This wedding would bind Elenora—and Giuseppe—to me, and the whole affair would be forgotten.
My fingers firmed on Elenora’s arm as I thought of Dante. I wouldn’t forgive and forget his treachery so easily. I’d keep a close watch on him, possibly even eliminate him after my father passed and I took full control. But until my rule was established, I wouldn’t risk destabilizing the organization by murdering one of our most powerful capos. No matter how fiercely I wanted to watch the sadistic light leave his eyes.
We reached the head table at the far side of the ballroom, where fresh flowers were usually kept even when no one was using the space; my home was always kept in meticulous order. The pale pink blooms would have to be decoration enough for Elenora. She’d probably long dreamed of an elaborate wedding ceremony, but the four dozen roses were all that she would get today.
I frowned and decided to make more of an effort for her reception. She might not want to be my wife, but I would prove to her that I wouldn’t mistreat her as long as she behaved herself. She was being remarkably docile now, eyes downcast so that her dark lashes swept her too-pale cheeks.
I wished I could see her lovely eyes, but at least she wasn’t screaming or railing at me anymore; the spanking had tamed her for the time being.
The memory of her submission and pert ass bouncing beneath my hand sent a fresh pulse of lust through my body, and male satisfaction warmed my chest.
Yes, we could learn to get along well.
“Ready?” Lorenzo asked, dragging my attention away from my bride.
I glanced at my friend and nodded. Like me, he wasn’t dressed for this occasion. In fact, he and Gabriele were even more dressed down than I was. The two brothers—nearly identical with their black eyes and thick dark beards—woresimple t-shirts and jeans. I’d at least worn my usual button-down shirt, even if I was also in jeans.
This definitely wouldn’t be the fairytale wedding women like Elenora no doubt dreamed about, but it would have to do. Despite the fact that she was dressed in a simple black skirt and sleeveless white blouse, she still managed to appear composed and poised; the same way she’d always looked when I’d seen her at her father’s parties over the years. I’d have to be blind not to have noticed her beauty, but she was always too young and too demure for me. I liked a challenge, and I’d expected Elenora to be meek and quiet.
She was certainly docile now that I’d taken her in hand. But she’d fought me in the car. She’d been fiery in her defiance.