Twisted Hearts by Cora Reilly
Iloved 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.
I caught Remo’s eyes who stood next to me with his arms crossed and a mildly pissed expression. Nino wore a look of mild exasperation. For him, it was completely unreasonable to believe in God. Good thing that he hadn’t involved Gemma’s conservative family into a discussion about the existence of a higher power. Knowing my brothers and my devilish little nephew, it would be a miracle if this wedding ended without a scandal and half of the Bazzolis never talking a word to us again. Only Adamo managed an expression that suggested he actually listened to a word the priest said, though he was probably daydreaming about the next street race in two weeks.
Gemma’s “I do” cut through my thoughts and I quickly returned my focus to the front. The look she sent me made it clear that she knew I hadn’t paid attention.
“I do,” I said firmly, and then ice-cold realization hit me. Right this second, I was a married man. From the corner of my eye, I caught Fabiano and Remo exchange surprised looks. Had they thought I’d say no? I wouldn’t put it past them to have placed bets on the outcome of this day. If that was the case, I wished they’d told me so I could have placed my own wager.
Greta tiptoed toward us in her pale pink flower girl dress, led by Nevio in his tux. Without him, she would have never walked down the aisle with so many people watching. I gave Nevio a warning look. If the little monster did anything to mess up this day, I’d kick his devious ass. In spite of himself, Nevio didn’t as much as make a face. He looked focused on Greta. Those two were like yin and yang. He and Greta stopped in front of us. Greta held up the ring cushion, giving me a tiny smile. She didn’t once look at the priest, Gemma or anyone else.
Gemma leaned down and whispered something that made my niece smile a bit wider, surprising me briefly, but then my eyes were drawn to Gemma’s back, which was bare. Her defined back and elegant shoulder blades, her delicious spine that I wanted to run my tongue over. My pulse sped up. Gemma straightened with the ring in her hand and faced me.
I don’t know what my expression was like, but it must have reflected my hunger because Gemma’s cheeks turned red. “Your hand,” she whispered, and I held out my hand for her.
She slipped the ring on. I bent down to Greta and took the remaining ring. This time I’d opted for a less obnoxious ring, a simple gold band with a few diamonds. “Thank you, dollface.”
Nevio pouted.
“And thanks to you.”
Together they turned around as I straightened. I gripped Gemma’s hand and slid the ring on her finger. A familiar wave of possessiveness washed over me, seeing my ring on Gemma’s hand. Glancing at my own hand, I realized that now I, too, would wear a sign that made me someone else’s. It was a strange feeling, knowing Gemma would be the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with, the only woman I’d have sex with…
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said, tearing me from my thoughts.
I smirked.
Snaking my arm around Gemma’s waist, my palm pressed to the soft, hot skin of her back, I pulled her against me.
“Behave,” she said almost desperately a second before my mouth crashed down on hers. The priest had given his official blessing for a kiss, so Gemma’s stuck-up family could suck it up. Sliding my lips over Gemma’s soft ones, I nudged her open with my tongue. Gemma tensed, but I didn’t give her a chance to react, pulling her even closer, my pinky slipping below the fabric of her dress to tease her tailbone as my tongue tasted her. Applause rang out in the church, at first only by a few people, probably orchestrated by Remo, until everyone fell in.
Eventually I pulled back, breathing heavily. I would have kept kissing Gemma if blood hadn’t started pooling in my cock. A hard-on in church was definitely something that Gemma would hold against me. Gemma’s skin was flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes lidded. For a moment before she remembered herself, desire filled her gaze and fuck it, I wanted to throw her over my shoulder right then and carry her to the car so I could take her to a secluded place where I could have my way with her.
Then Gemma’s eyes narrowed, and realization settled on her features, her eyes darting to our audience.
Outside of the church the guests gathered around us, clinking champagne glasses and cheering. Remo and Serafina were the first to congratulate us, of course. As Capo and my brother, it was his honor. He shook his head, then grabbed my hand and pulled me against him to hug me briefly. Many men avoided public displays of affection, especially if they were a high-ranking mobster. Remo knew he didn’t need to impress anyone. Every person in the room respected or even feared him. “I can’t fucking believe that you’re married. I was sure you’d pull a Hugh Hefner on all of us.”
I snorted, pulling away. “How could I not agree to marry, considering the hottest girl in Vegas was waiting at the altar?”
“That’s a lot of trouble for a piece of virgin ass,” Remo muttered. Gemma stiffened beside me.
My hand around his tightened, my lips curling in anger. “Careful.”
Remo’s mouth twitched into his twisted smile. “I see. Not just some hot ass after all.” He stepped back with that insufferable knowing expression and Serafina took his place. She smiled. “Congrats.” Then she hit my arm. “Don’t mess this up. I love her.”
“I’d never do anything to destroy your special bond.”
She hit me again before she stepped back, then searched the area for Nevio, who’d disappeared.
Diego and his mother Claudia, the latter holding Carlotta, who was still pale, were next. Diego gripped my hand and touched my shoulder. “Congrats.” He leaned forward, his eyes dead serious. “You are like a brother I never had. You are my best friend. But if you hurt Gemma, I’m going to kill you.”
I smiled in response. By now, I’d gotten used to his threats and they didn’t piss me off anymore. “She’s mine to protect now, Diego, and I will protect her.”
Diego nodded, but the hint of doubt lingered in his expression.
Claudia with Carlotta was next. She gave me a one-armed hug. “Please be good to my girl, Savio,” she whispered, her eyes earnest in their worry for her daughter. “Gemma is a good girl. She’s got a heart of gold, but even gold isn’t indestructible. I know as a Falcone, Diego’s threats mean nothing to you, but maybe the wish of a mother does.”
Tears filled her eyes. She looked exhausted and too-thin. Since Daniele’s death, she’d been breakable. “Claudia, you don’t have to ask me to be good to Gem. I won’t hurt her, and if I tried, she’d kick my ass as she should.”
Carlotta smiled shyly. I held out my arms, and she immediately leaned forward. Claudia handed her to me, and I pressed her to my chest. She was a tiny kid, no surprise, given her illness. “Hey Lotta, you look dashing in your dress. Like a princess.”
She giggled and actually snuggled against me. Her dad was gone, a constant male presence in her life, and knowing Diego’s workload, he probably didn’t have time to fill the void. I stroked her head.
Gemma pulled away from Diego who’d been hugging her for a long time. They both stared at me. I gave them a wink then turned back to Carlotta. “Will you dance with me later?”
Carlotta nodded, biting her lip.
“Your other guests are waiting for their turn,” Claudia said and took Carlotta from me before she and Diego moved to the side. Gemma linked our fingers and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear. “Thank you for making her feel special. She’s been through so much. She really likes you.”
I squeezed her hand as she turned back to the guests. Nino and Kiara waited before us. Kiara had tears in her eyes. Each of them carried one of their sons. Both were dressed in bow ties and suspenders, earning admiring glances from all the women around.
Gemma’s face twisted with rapture as well. My baby alarm went off at once, and I realized I should have talked to her about not wanting kids within the next ten years at least. Four kids in the house were already more than enough, five if you counted Aurora who was over half of the time with Leona. Did Gemma even take the pill or was that against her traditions?
Fuck. If I had to use a condom tonight, I’d kick myself.
Nino gave me a nod and clapped my arm. “Congrats.”
I raised an eyebrow, remembering his words about marriage. “I thought marrying wasn’t an accomplishment that warranted congratulating.”
“That’s true under normal circumstances, but given your promiscuity, attempting such a bond is a daring endeavor worthy of congrats.”
“Is a fuck you or thank you warranted in response, because I’m honestly not sure,” I said. Leave it to Nino to insult me without batting an eye.
Nino gave me the ghost of a smile that equaled a full-blown laughing fit in his case. “Just remember how much this wedding cost us when you consider returning to your old ways.”
“Okay, this is definitely a case of a heartfelt fuck you.”
Kiara moved in front of Nino, giving him a meaningful look before she hugged me. “I’m so happy for you. I knew you’d find the right girl for you.”
The congratulation ordeal dragged on forever after that, but eventually Gemma and I were in the back of the limousine that would take us to our mansion for the festivities. I pushed the button that raised the barrier between the back and the front with the driver.
Gemma gave me an indignant look. “Savio…”
I reached for her waist and hoisted her on my lap. With a gasp, her hands clamped down on my shoulders.
“This dress is so you. Innocent choir girl and sex on legs at once. Fuck, Gem, you’re killing me. I won’t be able to think about anything but tonight.”
“Who says anything will happen tonight?”
I raised my eyebrows then smiled lazily as I cupped her face and pulled her closer. “It’s tradition for the bride and the groom to consummate the marriage, Gem. You of all people should know. Wasn’t your family one of the last supporters of the bloody sheets tradition in the Camorra?”
“There won’t be any bloody sheets tonight,” she said angrily, but the delicate blush traveling up her throat took away from the venom in her voice. I ran my thumb across the pink trail.
I pressed my face into the crook of her neck, kissing her soft skin right where her collar ended as my fingertips discovered the soft bumps of her spine. Goose bumps rose on her skin, making me smile. “Oh, you’re absolutely right, Kitty.” Slowly, I trailed kisses up to her chin. “There won’t be any blood because I’m going to make you so fucking wet that your pussy is ready for my cock.”
Gemma released a sharp breath, and I used her startled state to claim her mouth once more. After a moment of hesitation, she kissed me back. Her fingers grabbed my neck as she pressed herself against me. Grabbing her butt and back, I flipped us over so she was splayed out on the leather bank of the car and me on top of her. The way her body moved under me, the low moans deep in her throat, the urgent twitching of her fingers in my hair, they all spoke a clear language. Gemma was as desperate for my touch as I was for hers.
The car came to a stop and Gemma ripped out of our kiss, her eyes wide, her breathing ragged. She blinked at me, almost dazed. Her lips red and fucking pouty. The sound of our driver getting out of the car made her tense. Her eyes darted to the back door. “Savio, get off me.”
I nipped at her lower lip. “I’m really not in favor of that plan. How about an early wedding night? A quickie in a limousine is the perfect start to our marriage, don’t you think?”
Gemma’s eyes narrowed. “You really think that I want my first time to happen on a backseat?”
“There are worse places,” I joked. “A limousine is a comfy place.”
“I bet you’ve tested that theory with other girls.”
“What does it matter? You are my wife now, Gem. None of the other girls can say that.”
She shoved at my chest when steps sounded outside our door. “Get off!”
I pressed a quick kiss to her tight lips then bent over her ear. “Tell me, are you already wet for me?” I rasped. “I bet you are.”
“Savio,” she gritted out.
I sat up and pulled Gemma up with me just when the door opened. It wasn’t the driver though. Diego stood in the door and his expression darkened upon seeing the state Gemma was in. Some of her hair had fallen out of her updo and framed her face in messy curls, her lips were swollen and her face flushed.
I slipped out of the car, then helped Gemma to her feet. She avoided Diego’s eyes like he did hers. He had no trouble glaring at me though. He brought his mouth close to my ear. “Couldn’t you have waited until tonight, you asshole?”
I chuckled. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Diego. Gemma is still perfectly entitled to that snow-white dress. I can wait until tonight.”
Gemma was definitely pissed at me after that. Probably because she hated how hot and wet I could get her with a few kisses.
When I led her into the garden where everything for the feast had been set up, thanks to Kiara’s organization skills, Gemma’s expression morphed into one of awe. It was an outdoor wedding. The chances of rain in Vegas were close to zero at this time, so tents would have been a waste. Dozens of round tables filled the center of the garden, which offered more than enough room. Behind them, a dancefloor had been set up which was covered by garlands which would illuminate the place once night fell. I didn’t much care about the flower decorations, but Gemma seemed happy with it and that was all that mattered.
This was the biggest wedding that the Camorra had seen in decades, since our parents had married, and every Underboss and Captain was in attendance as well as Luca as the leading man of the Famiglia. Remo had been wary of having the festivities on our premises, but it would have suggested weakness if we’d been too cautious about inviting our men into our home.
Gemma shook her head, obviously overwhelmed.
Soon the guests took their places and food was served. Gemma was oddly quiet when we moved to the dancefloor for our first dance. With hundreds of eyes on us, she presented her most beautiful smile, but I saw the lingering sadness. It would have been her father’s turn to dance with her after this.
She swallowed, her eyes darting to the black sky. “Do you think Dad and Nonna are watching?”
A tricky question. I wasn’t a believer. I kissed her temple and tightened my hold on her, leaning down to her ear. “Your dad would be happy to see you like this. And your nonna would be proud of you for making it to your wedding night before succumbing to my charm.”
Gemma choked out a laugh, slapping my chest lightly. “You are so full of yourself.”
I kissed her lips, glad that she was smiling again.
Diego danced with his sister after that and I danced with their mom. One dance followed the other after that, an endless string of women coming and going. I’d made sure that none of my past lovers were invited, which wasn’t a problem considering I’d steered clear of Italian women. Diego wasn’t that lucky. His dance with Toni was a prime show of awkwardness.
“Dance with me,” a high voice said.
I lowered my drink. I’d only just managed to escape the dance floor and now found myself staring at a girl with black hair and blue eyes. “Is that an order?” I asked.
From across the room, I found Remo to see his reaction to my predicament, but he wasn’t looking my way. He was watching Luca with narrowed eyes. Luca, on the other hand, looked at me as if he was currently imagining how to slice me into the tiniest pieces possible.
His daughter batted her lashes at me. A death trap in the making, that girl. “It would be rude of you to say no.”
“Is that so?” I asked, setting down my drink.
“Definitely,” she said.
“Remind me of your name again.” I knew her name, everyone did, but she was a bit too confident.
Indignation flashed on her face, a flicker of childish poutiness. “Marcella Vitiello.”
“Ahh, yes, now I remember.”
She flushed, obviously confused by my bored voice. In New York, everyone probably fawned over her like she was a princess.
“Are you going to dance with me or not?”
“That’s a polite or not.”
“You’re scared of my dad,” she muttered. “I thought in Las Vegas, at least, people would be braver.”
“I’m not scared of your dad, Marcella. If you’re so brave, go to my brother Remo and dance with him. I have a wife I need to keep entertained.” I gave her a nod, then walked away. I wouldn’t be the pawn of a pre-pubescent spoiled princess from New York.
I went in search of Gemma, who I hadn’t seen in a while. I found her at our second pool, staring at the illuminated cascades. Her arms were wrapped around her middle. She wasn’t crying, which was a huge relief. I snaked my arms around her from behind, making her jump.
“Why are you hiding out here?”
“I’m not hiding. I just needed to get away from all the attention for a moment.”
I kissed her throat. “See, it wasn’t so bad having your first kiss before today without all these fuckers watching.”
“I doubt Nonna would agree with that,” she said, a mix of guilt and sadness reflecting on her beautiful face.
“You really think she would have been mad at you for having a few kisses before we got married? You’re my wife now, so what does it matter?”
“I don’t know what she would have thought because I can’t ask her, because she’s not here. Neither is Dad.” Her voice wavered and she quickly turned her head away, but I caught the treacherous glistening of her eyes.
“Fuck, Gem,” I said in a low voice. Turning her around, I gripped her face and pressed our foreheads together. “You know they both would have wanted you to be happy. That’s all they wanted.”
She searched my eyes. “Will you make me happy?”
Several answers manifested themselves on the tip of my tongue, none of them appropriate in a situation like this. But the truth was, I wasn’t fucking sure. This marriage was the result of my dick running the fucking show. I wanted Gemma in my bed, and for that to happen, I needed to seal the deal. Of course, that wasn’t all there was to it. But I’d never had to take care of someone. I’d always only done what I wanted, fucked who I wanted. Now that was over. Gemma was my wife.
Fuck, that truth hit me like a sledgehammer.
Gemma huffed. “You’re already regretting this, aren’t you?” She tried to pull away, but I tightened my hold on her.
“I’m not,” I said firmly. It was the truth. I’d marry Gemma again, and not just so I could bury myself in her undoubtedly pretty pussy, but also because I wanted her for myself in every other regard as well. The idea that Mick could have gotten her still sent me into a jealous rage.
But now forever stretched before us in all its terrifying magnitude. Could I make her happy outside of the bedroom? Looking into Gemma’s vulnerable eyes, I wanted nothing more, but I just didn’t know.
I kissed Gemma because that was something I could do. My tongue stroked hers, the promise of more. She leaned into me, allowed me to avoid an answer, a little sin of omission. A rustling made me pull back, my body tensing and hand going to the gun under my jacket.
