Becoming His Wife by Hayley Faiman
Chapter Fourteen
TIZIANO
There is a car and driver waiting for us when the plane lands. Thankfully, my father had the foresight to send someone. I didn’t even think about it until we landed and I noticed him standing next to the black sedan.
Climbing down the steps of the plane, I hold my hand out for Maci. She slips her palm in mine as she climbs down the steps as well, but her eyes are not focused on mine, she’s too busy taking in the scene around her.
There isn’t a whole lot to see here at the airport, but it looks much different than New York, it feels different as well. The air is fresher, the trees more abundant, and everything seems to slow down around you the second you step off of the plane.
Italy will always be my preferred residence. If I could live here full time, I would. It will definitely be where I retire to one day. I want to spend my days on the beach enjoying the sun and sand around me. I want to relax, let go of the stress and pressures of life, and just be until the end comes for me.
“Ready, zuccherino?” I ask when she finishes descending from the stairs and just stops in her place, her eyes wide with wonderment as she looks around.
Her gaze finds mine and she smiles softly. “I’ve never been anywhere before, I’m just in awe,” she admits.
Smiling, I dip my chin and touch my mouth to hers in a chaste kiss. “Welcome to the rest of your life, Maci.”
Tugging her hand, I turn and head toward the waiting car. While we were exiting the plane, the driver took the opportunity to grab our luggage and load it in the back of the car.
Opening the car door, I release Maci’s hand and watch as she climbs inside, tilting my head to the side as she does, hoping for a view of her sweet ass.
“Tiziano,” the driver calls out.
Turning to him, I give him a smile before I reach out to him and wrap my arms around him, touching each side of his cheeks with mine.
“Piero,” I murmur. “It is good to see you.”
“You too,” he says, taking a step back. “And you’re married. I remember when you were just a bambino.”
Shaking my head, I grin. “It has been too long since I have been here.”
“Work,” Piero says, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Too much of it.”
He laughs and I slide into the back seat of the car as he makes his way toward the driver’s side. Leaning back in the seat, I lift my arm and rest it across the top of the seat and across Maci’s shoulders.
“This is Mrs. Bianchi, Maci,” I say, introducing her to Piero. “Maci, this is Piero.”
I watch as he shifts his gaze to the rearview mirror and tells her that it is his pleasure to meet such a goddess. Watching her in my peripheral vision, I can’t help but smile as her cheeks turn pink at the compliment.
Settling back in the seat, I close my eyes as Maci watches the landscape around her. I know that we have a three-hour car ride from Rome to Positano, Campania where the villa is located. Why they insist on flying into Rome, I’ll never know.
It would be easier to find a smaller airport somewhere closer, but this is the way we’ve always done it and I’m not one to question my father too much. I’ve already disrespected him enough without his knowledge.
“Tiziano,” Maci calls softly.
With a grunt, I turn my head to the side before I crack my eyes open. She’s watching me, her gaze moving over my face before it settles on mine. Arching a brow, I wait for her to say whatever it is that is on her mind and working in her head.
“Maci,” I murmur when she doesn’t say anything.
She clears her throat, licking her lips, then looks down at her lap before she lifts her eyes to meet mine again. She shakes her head and shifts her gaze to the window.
“Never mind,” she says softly.
I don’t push her, mainly because I don’t want to have any conversations with Piero present. Yes, he’s a family friend, but he is not famiglia, he’s not Made. Any serious conversations we have cannot be in front of him and judging by the way her mind looked as though it was working overtime, she has things she’d like to discuss.
“We’ll talk when we get there, why don’t you just rest, yeah?”
She nods her head but doesn’t look back at me. Tipping my head back again, I close my eyes and allow the gentle movements of the car to rock me to sleep.
I haven’t slept much lately, with the stress of the wedding, with Gavino taking over the Bianchi famiglia, with the fact that I’m betraying my father, it’s all put a toll on quality sleep.
When the car stops what feels like five minutes later, I grunt as I open my eyes. The familiar scene of the front of the villa’s steps greets me, as does the blinding white building. Everything in the family villa is bright white, aside from the cobalt blue floor tile and accent décor.
Looking down, I see the top of Maci’s head as she rests against my chest. Dipping my chin, I touch my lips to the top of her head, then wrap my arm around her shoulders a bit tighter. Sliding my fingers up and down her arm, I gently call out to her.
She lifts her head, her eyes opening slightly as she looks up at me through her lashes. “Where are we?” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Home for the next week,” I explain with a grin.
I watch as she shifts and sits up, arching her back to stretch as she looks around. “I can see the ocean,” she breathes.
I hum, but her eyes quickly come back to mine and they’re wide. “I’ve never seen the ocean before,” she explains.
“Then we’ll spend the entire week in the sun and on the sand, zuccherino.”
Her lips curve up into a huge smile and I can’t stop her from flinging the car door open and running over to the edge of the property to look over the cliff. There is a staircase at the other side of the house that leads straight down to the private area of beach, a small cove that is ours.
She looks as though she is on pins and needles to explore though, and I can’t help but laugh at her jubilance. I don’t think I have ever been that excited about anything in my entire life. Unfolding from the car, I thank Piero who already has our luggage unpacked from the car and sitting next to the front door.
“I’ve made sure that the refrigerator and pantry are stocked. You should not need for anything while you’re here and I will return on Monday to take you back to the airport,” he explains.
“Grazie, Piero,” I say, shaking his hand and leaning in to press my cheeks to his, one then the other.
“Enjoy your week, Tiziano.”
He turns and jogs toward the car. I watch as he slips inside the driver’s seat then takes off down the private drive. Turning to my wife, I watch her for a moment as she stands at the edge of the cliff and looks out at the ocean and sailboats that are out in the warm sun.
Her blonde hair sparkles in the sunshine and she looks like a beacon of hope, of pureness, of a bright future. I hope that I have chosen well when it comes to her. This, between us, it isn’t until one of us grows tired of the other, it is for life.
I own her.
Maci looks back over her shoulder, her lips curved up into a huge smile. She lifts her hand, holding it out for me and I know that in this moment, at least, I’ve chosen the correct woman for me. The rest of it, the future, only time will be able to tell me if I’ve done the right thing or if I’ve made a massive mistake.
MACI
I wantto ask him so many questions. One of which is what kind of man is able to charter a plane from New York to Italy? The second, what kind of family owns a villa in Italy, on the coast? I want the truth, all of it. I want to know if he’s in the mafia the way I expect he probably is.
I want solid answers.
But I don’t need them right this second. Not as he stands behind me, his fingers wrapped around my waist, his strong torso pressed against my back as we look out over the ocean.
He clears his throat and I look back at him. Tearing my eyes away from the water is almost physically painful to do, it’s so mesmerizing.
“We should go in, get something to eat, rest a bit and refresh.”
Licking my lips, I nod my head and watch as he takes a step backward. He smiles, jerking his chin toward the house. I follow behind him, though all I want to do is watch the water, the beach, all of it. I want to remember this forever.
Making my way into the house, I’m surprised by how white everything is, but I gasp at the sight. It’s grand, so much nicer than I ever thought possible. I don’t know what I expected, but this was not it at all.
Not only is everything gleaming white from the floors to the walls to the sofa, but there are huge windows everywhere too. I can see the water even better from the living room. I don’t even notice the bright blue accents that are all around me. I can’t see anything past that gorgeous water.
“Maci,” Tiziano calls out. Jerking my head, I look over to see him standing in the kitchen, a smile firmly planted on his lips. “I called your name three times,” he says with a chuckle.
“I just can’t stop staring, it’s so beautiful,” I admit.
His smile stays firmly planted in place and he dips his chin. “Piero’s wife made some meals for us. There’s a premade antipasto platter. Thought that would be good and light, we can go out to dinner later tonight?”
“I’ve never,” I admit, dipping my chin to try and hide my red cheeks. Looking at my feet, I hate having to admit just how pathetic I am. “I don’t know what antipasto is, Tiziano,” I whisper.
I feel him in front of me in an instant. Lifting my head, I tip back and look into his eyes. They are glittering and he has a small smile on his lips. His fingers wrap around the back of my head as he cradles me, his eyes searching my own.
“It’s meats, cheeses, olives, bread, and tomatoes,” he explains softly. “Don’t ever be embarrassed that you don’t understand or know something, just ask me, Maci.”
“You’re going to get tired of explaining simple things to me,” I say, knowing that he no doubt will because I would get tired of it really quickly if the roles were reversed.
His eyes search mine and I’m not quite sure what he’s looking for, but he doesn’t say anything right away, he just watches me. Then, he dips his chin and touches his lips to mine in a brief kiss. He doesn’t lift his mouth though, instead he stays with his lips planted against my own.
“I won’t. I understand that this is new to you. I understand a bit about where you’ve come from. You’ll explain more to me as time passes and I’ll understand it better. For now, ask your questions and never fear, because I will always answer you.”
Closing my eyes, I can’t keep them open, I can’t do anything but lean forward and into him. I’m not sure he realizes exactly what he does to me.
He owns me on paper, in a contract, but he also just plain owns me. It’s scary to think about, scary to admit it, so I don’t. I probably never will, but this man doesn’t just own my body, he owns so much more.
