Married to the Mob by C.M. Steele
Chapter Two
Aria
“You’re such a brat, Aria,” my sister, Gloria, says, crossing her arms and stomping her foot like she’s a child instead of a married twenty-two-year-old woman with kids. I’m hardly a brat, but that’s hard for anyone to see these days, since they all believe that my fiancé is everything wonderful and powerful.
I flip her off and continue taking my time. “Says the woman who married for love. You got lucky. I get to marry some guy I don’t know who is one of the most dangerous men in the world, and probably a big whore to boot.” And I’m terrifyingly attracted to Domani Bianchi which only makes matters worse for me. What if I’m putty in his hands? What if I lose who I am?
I’m marrying a man who’s so gorgeous it needs to be listed with his other sins. The bastard has the look of a killer meets Superman. Technically we’ve never met in person, but we’ve had two close encounters—and one lives so vividly in my head.
Given our family connections and the business they’re in, I should have met him more often than that, but I’ve been locked away since I grew tits and one of my classmates noticed. It happened shortly after my favorite almost meeting with Domani Bianchi. Trying to make a move on me, a classmate, Franco found out the hard way that you don’t fuck with a mafia princess. He only got his broken arm as a warning to stay far away. He’s lucky it was only that, because my family can be crazy, deadly crazy. He’s even luckier that I don’t have an older brother. Those motherfuckers in our world are bananas when it comes to their little sisters.
Still, the Bianchis are much worse than that. They run this city and don’t hesitate to kill anyone who crosses them. There are other families in the Chicago area, but there’s no mistaking who’s the true boss. Even my father defers to him. I’ve heard tail ends of calls that prove how dangerous my future husband can be.
Domani Bianchi’s the head of the family now that his father has retired, and now that the dark prince has become king, he’s looking for his queen.
From what my mother told me, my dad presented photos to Domani with the mention of my innocence, and the family decided on our marriage. I’m to be his queen in two days here in our family home in front of two hundred strangers from other mafia families. There are four families, but there has been a truce so they will all attend. I’ve asked to be let out of the marriage, but to no avail. I don’t want to be stuck in a loveless marriage. I’ve already barely seen much of the outside world, and I’m going to miss out, marrying the most ruthless son of a bitch around. Although I wasn’t exactly locked away, I became homeschooled and hardly ever spent time with friends over the past two years, so much so that most don’t even bother to text me anymore. I’ve become an outcast when I was the most popular girl. It wasn’t the popularity, but rather the loss of having something to look forward to.
Tonight, I’m to meet my husband-to-be at a dinner hosted at his home, where I’ll be given a tour of my future residence and all the glorious elegance inside. I rolled my eyes at the way my mother described their home. Shouldn’t I have seen it first?
I stare around my insanely massive bedroom, knowing we have an amazing mansion as well. If that’s their selling point, it’s not a good one. Been there done that kind of thing. Although my room has seen better days. Most of my room has been packed up with boxes lining the walls, signaling my fate is nearly here. I do my best to stay headstrong and resist, but I know my efforts are futile.
My hands are shaking as I brush my hair, avoiding my sister’s glare through my large vanity mirror. “Don’t you have a family that needs tending to?”
“Don’t be a jerk. You’re my sister and my family as well. Besides, my husband is getting them ready for bed.” I look at my watch. It’s a little early for bed, but they have a whole routine that they do no matter where they travel and because her husband is from Ireland, they travel a great deal.
Still, my nerves are on edge, and I wish she’d leave me alone. There’s so much that this man could do to me; not only can he physically hurt me if he wants to, but emotionally too. I’m afraid of the butterflies I get in my stomach when I see pictures of him. He’s a thousand times more potent when he’s near, and in the two years since our last encounter, I can still feel his eyes on me. It’s painful the way my body wants to gravitate toward him that elevates my shitty mood. I’m going to be the lovesick puppy while he has whores at his beck and call whenever he deems me not enough.
“Just give him a chance. He’s handsome, wealthy, and powerful. Isn’t that enough for now? You two haven’t even met. What if you both fall in love?”
Scoffing, I stand up and walk over to my bed where she’s sitting and plop down beside her, giving her a downward stare. “I highly doubt that. The man will probably make me sick with his affairs.”
There’s a knock at my bedroom door. “Girls, it’s time to go,” my papa says.
“We need a few more minutes, Papa,” Gloria shouts.
“So unladylike,” I whisper with a smirk. She nudges me and sticks out her tongue, proving my point again.
We both hold back a laugh as my father adds, “Domani won’t like to be kept waiting.” I roll my eyes because I don’t give a shit if he doesn’t like something. My father’s so anxious to hand over the reins of the Grasso family to Domani that he’s trying to appease the handsome thug.
“Pity. He’ll have to get used to it,” I hiss under my breath.
Gloria signs the cross over her chest, kissing the cross she wears. “Heaven help him. He’s got his hands full with you.”
“Damn right.” A deep growl comes from my bedroom door that flies open. I gasp and stare. Domani Bianchi is standing there in my doorway in an all-black suit with a deep blood-red tie, as if he knew I’d be wearing the same red tonight.
“Please leave us,” Domani Bianchi orders my sister. His tone is firm, yet not cruel. She doesn’t miss a beat and scurries out of the room. “Careful, you’re with child, Signora Delaney.” She slows down and walks out, closing the door behind her with a smirk on her face, sticking her tongue out at me one more time for good measure.
“Aria.” I jerk my eyes away from my bedroom door to his face. The sound of my name off his lips is smooth and rushes over my skin, making my every nerve tingle.
“Yes, that’s my name,” I inform him with an air of indifference even though my heart’s thumping against my breastbone.
He arches his right brow, rakes his gaze over me from head to toe, and then remarks with an upturned lip, “It looks like you have no intention of coming tonight.” Immediately, I understand he’s not talking about his house, but rather, my body. My already heated flesh reddens with lust, and I need more of his sultry voice.
“Oh, I plan to come,” I hiss, leaving the sexual innuendo in the air like blood in the water for a dangerous predator. He crosses the distance, leaning over me as I sit on the edge of my bed, and shakes his head. “Just not with you.”
“Aria, you won’t be coming at all if you keep this up,” Domani warns me, inching alarmingly close that I can feel the heat of his body across my skin.
Needing to defuse my body’s natural reaction to his magnetism, I clap my hands together excitedly and give him my thousand-watt smile. “Ooh. Does that mean we’re not getting married?”
He slides his strong hand down my cheek, feathering his fingers over my throat, and continues to move them down my body. “Oh, we’re getting married.” Domani’s touch is gentle as he loosens the tie on my robe, revealing my bra and panties to his gaze. His eyes return to me, and there’s nothing but lust and determination in them. Can he tell that between my clenched thighs the material is drenched?
Gripping my thighs, he nudges them open and then cups my pussy. His other hand thrusts into my hair, tugging my head back as he leans over me, staring into my eyes. “It’s not wise to tease a man on edge, cara mia.” His mouth brushes against mine. “Are you going to be a good girl and get dressed?”
“What’s in it for me?” I try to hold on to the fight, but his fingers flex, massaging me through my panties.
“Depending on how good of a girl you are, I’ll either be making you come with my fingers or my tongue… Or, you can be bad and keep me waiting, but the consequences will be unbearable. You’ll be tied up so you can’t even touch yourself to get off, Tesoro.”
“Ruthless,” I moan, flexing my hips forward as I glare at him.
A sinister smile stretches across his handsome face, causing an uptick in my heart rate. “That’s right, Aria. Now, go put on that red dress.” He points to the black garment bag hanging on the closet door.
“How did you know?”
“Our mothers mentioned it to each other.” He presses his lips to my forehead before releasing his grip on my mound. “Remember what I said, Aria. I’m a man of my word.” He walks out of the bedroom without stealing another look my way. My panties need to be changed. Asshole. I almost came from that brief encounter. I debate my choices. He doesn’t know that I slip my hand under my nightgown to thoughts of him or tease myself in the shower.
Maybe it would be nice to have the king on his knees.
Sexually frustrated, I climb off my bed and begin digging out a new pair of panties. The thing is, half my room has already been packed. I have two days until that sexy beast becomes my husband, and I’m a mess about it. Going into my bathroom, I change and check my hair. It’s long with a perfect wave to it. I apply my killer red lipstick—my favorite—and just enough eyeliner and mascara to accentuate my eyes. When I step outside the room, my usual guard is gone and a woman is in his place. “Mrs. Bianchi, I’m your new guard, Torres.”
“What happened to John?”
“The boss has changed your guards. I don’t know why.” We go down the stairs, and Domani is standing there waiting with my parents and my sister. Gloria’s husband pops up a minute later. He’s the head of the Irish mafia, and it brought a truce to the families when they got together two years ago.
“A start in the right direction,” Domani says; he takes my hand, and I feel the metal slide across my finger. It’s heavy but warm, as if he’s been holding it in his hand this whole time. “Come, now. Let’s go. We have a large feast prepared for this special occasion.” I do my best not to stare at the diamond that I had on my Pinterest page. It was the only page I was allowed to have, and I went full out on it. It seems so did Domani.
Domani takes my hand, twining our fingers together as my father and mother head out. We’re the last to go, and that’s when he leans in and whispers, “I’m hoping you’re gonna be a really good girl. I want your taste on my tongue.” His teeth nip at my earlobe, and shivers run down my body.
He straightens up and mutters to himself, “Fuck, this is going to be a long weekend.”
