He scowls when he sees me.
I pull away from Matteo and walk up to him. “Adelina,” Matteo says.
“I have to do this,” I tell him. I turn to Jules and say, “You could have done more to help me.” She flushes and refuses to make eye contact. “And you,” I say to Enrico. “You are utter scum. You know that? You deserved to have a bruised face. Infact, you deserve more. You deserve to rot in hell.” The passion coursing through me scares me. I’ve never been this way before.
Enrico looks past me at Matteo. “Control your woman, boss.”
Matteo growls as he walks past me and grips Enrico’s shirt. “Did you not learn a damn thing from yesterday? I could break your fucking face all over again.” He shoves Enrico away.
Enrico has the decency to shut up after that.
“Next time you feel the urge to assault someone,” I say, “pick on someone your own size. And if I find out that you’re abusing any of these women, I’ll tell Matteo.” All the women in the room look at me, appreciation in their gazes.
“Ready to go?” Matteo asks me.
Before I can respond, Emma approaches us in nothing but a slinky dress that leaves little to the imagination.
“Where are you going?” she asks. “The party was just getting started.”
“Emma,” Matteo says through gritted teeth. “Don’t start something.”
“I wasn’t going to.” She gives me a tight smile. “I wish you luck on your marriage.”
“Thank you,” I say, surprised.
Emma continues to speak, and my surprise vanishes. “You might have a hard time handling Matteo’s body since you’re a virgin and all. So good luck with that.” She flutters her fingers in a mockery of a wave.
Heat spreads across my face. As a mafia girl, being a virgin is viewed as a good thing. I took pride in it. For the first time, I’m being shamed for it.
“Emma,” Matteo says in a warning tone.
“What?” she asks innocently, blinking her large eyes.
Matteo sighs and turns to me. “Ready to go now?”
“Yes.” I turn to Emma. “Matteo is my husband. Remember that.” Her mouth opens in surprise. Good. I want the last word. I grab Matteo’s hand again, and we walk out of the building.
It feels good to stand up to the people who hurt me. I feel like Serafina almost. She’d be proud of me.
Matteo nods for me to get on his bike. “Your luggage is at the hotel. I had it sent there before our wedding. So you’ll be able to change when we get there.”
I slide onto the bike and try to protect my thighs from exposure, but the shirt slips up a little too high for my liking. Matteo eyes me, and I can tell he likes what he sees. The thought sends a sudden pulse between my legs. It’s unexpected and quick, but I know what it means. For the first time since meeting him, I’ve felt arousal for Matteo. The thought makes me want to bury my head into a pillow.
Matteo sits in front of me and starts the bike. The hum of the bike sends another pulse through my legs. Now that I don’t have my wedding dress in the way, I can feel more of the sensation. I wrap my hands around his waist, trying to push the new sensations aside.
Emma walks out into the courtyard, a scowl on her lips. I grin at her as Matteo drives away, letting her know that Matteo is mine and not hers. She rolls her eyes and heads back inside.
As I cling to Matteo on the drive to the hotel, the hard ridges of his muscles under his shirt press into my hands. It’s not an unpleasant feeling.
We arrive at the hotel in less than thirty minutes. It’s a luxury hotel situated right above the ocean with a great view of the water below. A few people who walk out of the hotel give Matteo’s bike a dirty look as he parks in the parking lot. While it looks out of place against all the luxury cars, for some reason, I feel the urge to tell those people to stop judging. The irony is real.
A man and a woman holding hands walk out of the hotel and eye my t-shirt with disgust. I sink in closer to Matteo, trying to shield my body.
Matteo notices. “Mind your own damn business,” he says to the couple. They scurry away.
“Thanks. For standing up for me.”
“Well, I’m the reason you’re in that shirt in the first place. It’s the least I can do.”