Becoming His Wife by Hayley Faiman

Chapter Fifteen

MACI

After we eat, Tiziano tells me to hurry and take a shower then throw my suit on. Thankfully Pippa demanded that I get a swimsuit. I have only the one.

I shower quickly, throwing my dry hair up into a high bun on top of my head. If I’m heading down to the beach and sand, no way do I want to wash my hair until I’m finished.

With the towel wrapped around my waist, I unzip my suitcase and riffle through the contents looking for the little gold bikini that Pippa insisted I buy. It’s too tiny, showing off far too much of my flesh, but she said it was hot and at the time I doubted I would ever have the opportunity to wear it.

When I find the scraps of fabric, I also grab a pair of shorts and a tank top. No way can I walk around without covering myself. I may not even take the shorts and tank off. Granted, Tiziano has seen every square inch of me by now, but still. Being overly exposed kind of makes me nervous and uncomfortable.

Once I’m dressed, I grab a pair of sandals and go in search of my husband. I don’t know my way around the house, but it isn’t hard to hear him. He must be on the phone, so I follow his voice. At first, he sounds muffled, but as I move closer to him, I can hear him clearer.

“What do you mean the feds are at the club?”

There is a moment of pause and I hold my breath, waiting to see what will be said next.

“Mia, everything will be okay,” he says, his voice softening.

My heart slams against my chest, cracking a bit when it does. Not only is Mia calling him while we’re on our honeymoon, but the way he is speaking to her, soft and sweet—it hurts. I want his soft voice, his sweetness to be for me, not her.

It’s mine.

“Is Arlo with you? Good. There’s nothing to be done, Vino will do what he can on the inside. Keep me posted. Okay. Yeah. Bye, babe.”

Babe.

Another crack to my heart. There is a moment of silence, one where he doesn’t move. I watch his bare back as he lowers his head. The swim trunks he’s wearing fit him like a glove, his muscular back is smooth and on display, it’s sexy.

I hate that he’s so damn hot.

I want to be pissed the fuck off at him, but I’m not. Instead, I’m just disappointed and hurt.

Clearing my throat, I take a step into what I realize now is a small office. Holding my head up high, I put on a fake smile and watch as he turns around to face me. I can see the worry etched clearly in his features.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

I wait to see if he’ll tell me what he was talking about with Mia, he doesn’t. He schools his features and gives me a small smile.

“I am, zuccherino,” he says, his eyes moving down my body, then back to meet my own. “Where’s your bikini?”

“It’s on under my clothes,” I mutter.

He arches a brow but thankfully doesn’t demand that I take my shorts and tank off. Instead, I watch as he walks over to a small table and grabs a pile of towels.

“Can you get the bag on the counter? I packed some things for us,” he calls out as he shifts closer toward me.

Nodding my head, I turn and start to walk toward the kitchen, but his fingers wrap around my wrist. He tugs me backward, and I spin around before I tip my head back and look up into his eyes.

“You okay?”

I hum, nodding my head. “I am, just tired.”

He watches me, then whatever he sees he must be satisfied with because he grins. “Jet lag, you’ll probably be bouncing off of the walls soon and unable to sleep.”

“God, I hope not. I’m grumpy if I don’t get enough sleep,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

He chuckles, his eyes glittering as he looks down at me. “Noted. I’ll make sure to exhaust you.”

His words are laced with innuendo, and I can’t help it, my face heats. I know that my cheeks turn pink because his smile widens and he winks down at me. If nothing else, I know that he at least thinks I’m cute, even if I’m not Mia, who he obviously holds a special place for. Especially, if he’s talking to her on our honeymoon.

Jealousy.

I now completely understand what that word feels like. It’s consuming. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep tonight, but it won’t be because of jet lag. Instead, I know without a doubt that it will be because he and Mia aren’t as over as I thought they were, as she said they were.

I feel sick.

Together, we gather the bag and our things before we head down to the beach. The entire walk, all I can do is think about the conversation he had with Mia. How she called him when she was in trouble. I can’t imagine that there wasn’t someone else she could have called, she chose to call him.

My stomach twists.

I don’t know much about women. I’ve never really been around many, but I know how vindictive they can be. I didn’t get that vibe from her, but then again, I don’t know her. Maybe she was just trying to ease my mind and make me feel comfortable so that she could go behind my back.

Pinching my eyes closed, I hold on to the metal railing as I walk down the stairs. It doesn’t matter what she does, what she wants, what she tries. All that matters is my husband and if he acts on it. And I don’t know him well enough to know if he will or won’t. Something that makes my stomach clench in pain.

TIZIANO

The feds.Fuck. This means that Arlo and Gavino are under watch, not to mention Mia and whoever else is down there. I knew there was something going on. I fucking knew it with Silvio coming to me. I knew some shit was going down, I just didn’t think that it would happen this quickly.

Helping Maci lay the beach towels down, I shove the umbrella pole in the sand and watch as she sinks down on the towel in the shade. I frown at the sight of her, still in her shorts and tank top.

“Take your clothes off, zuccherino,” I say as I sink down on the towel next to hers. Extending my legs, I cross them at the ankles as I lean back on my elbows and look over to her.

She doesn’t make a move, instead, she looks over to me. There is something going on with her, but I don’t say anything, deciding that it’s probably just jitters. This whole thing, her coming to New York, then being thrust into a marriage, the wedding, traveling to another country, and now a honeymoon.

It’s a lot.

There is a lot that we’re going to have to get used to and adjust to. I’m sure that we’ll both have moments of feeling like there is something not quite right in our lives.

“Maci?”

She turns to me, her eyes wide, and she inhales. “Can anyone see us?” she asks.

Arching a brow, I frown and shake my head slowly. “This is a private beach, but even if they could, this is Italy. Go topless if you want, yeah?”

She slowly shakes her head. “I couldn’t,” she breathes.

Challenge.

Accepted.

“You have a suit, no?”

“I have a suit,” she says with a nod. “It’s just. I never expected to wear it. Pippa talked me into it.”

My lips twitch into a small smile and I know that if Pippa talked her into it, then it’s probably sexy. If there is one thing that the wives are, it’s not prudes, especially Pippa. She is sexy, extremely sexy and isn’t shy about dressing that way either.

I would have taken her had Massimo not wanted her while he was in prison. I would have made her mine—gladly. However, I knew that Massimo would never have left her, and Pippa and I wouldn’t have been happy.

Aside from the fact that she looks far too much like my mother, she is also much more outspoken and independent than I desire.

“Let’s see it, nobody is around. I’ve seen everything, zuccherino. There’s no reason to be shy.”

With a heavy sigh, she nods her head once and begins to unbutton and unzip her shorts. I watch, holding my breath as she slides them down her legs.

The bottoms are small, gold with ties on the sides and I can’t stop myself from imagining tugging on those little strings so that I can take her out here in the open.

Next, she inhales a deep breath then lets it out on a loud sigh as she grips the hem of her shirt. I watch as she pulls it over her head and exposes the matching gold bikini top. Fuck me. It’s sexy as hell. It’s barely there, just a strip of fabric across her breasts spilling out in all directions.

“Not something I would ever want you wearing in public, but here or at home, with me, yes, please.”

She smiles, but her cheeks turn red at my words. Reaching over to her, I wrap my arm around her hips and tug her closer to me. I pull at the towels as she slides over in my direction, but it doesn’t matter, we’re fucked when it comes to the sand.

Pulling her down, she slides so that she’s on her back and I’m halfway on top of her, my elbow resting on the other side of her hip.

“Tell me,” she says softly. I hum, not wishing to talk at all. Instead, I want to kiss, taste, lick all of her. “Are you in the mafia?”

Lifting my head, I look into her eyes. I could lie, keep her in the dark for the rest of her life, but that would do her zero good. She needs to know some of the life that she lives, even if it’s not everything, she needs to understand her place.

“What did Mia tell you?” I ask.

I watch as she flinches at the mention of Mia and inwardly I cringe. If I had a doubt that she knew about me and Mia, that’s gone. She knows, and she doesn’t like it, but she’s not going to mention it, at least not yet.

Maci shakes her head from side to side, her gaze not leaving mine. “Not much. She just told me how to behave. Never speak unless spoken to in public, always stand at your side as if I’m a pretty ornament. Always show you attention in public, but not too much. Never question your directions, orders, or moves and never ask any questions either. She said the rest I would have to figure out as time went on.”

I snort, thinking that Mia would indeed make some Made Man a good wife. Not me, of course, but someone. Lifting my hand, I tuck a piece of hair behind Maci’s ear, my gaze moving over her face before settling on her eyes again.

“You already know the answer to your question, don’t you?”

She nods. “I think I do, but I need to hear it.”

“You came in here from a one-percenter Motorcycle Club, contracted to marry a stranger. You know that this is not an organization that is clean, yes?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“I am a Made Man. My father is a Boss, and I am the heir to the Bianchi famiglia. I wanted a marriage that could not be broken and could not end in divorce or abandonment.”

“So you wanted to buy a wife?”

I dip my chin. “I did, I also gave up my famiglia to do that.”

Frowning, she presses her lips together, clearly not understanding my words, but not sure if she can ask for clarification. I’m going to let her ask when she feels comfortable. I’m not pushing, nor am I offering any information. I don’t want to scare the absolute shit out of her.

“You can ask me whatever you need to ask me, Maci. I can’t promise that I will always answer you, but even though this marriage is contractual, I still want it to be open and real. I chose you for a reason, I could have chosen someone years ago, but I waited.”

Licking her lips, she inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she looks up at me. She’s so fucking sexy and it’s clear that she has no idea, either, which just makes me that much more attracted to her. She has no fucking clue how goddamn stunning she is.

“You gave up your famiglia? How?”

My lips curve up into a grin and I chuckle. She probably thinks that I’m going to be destitute now. She’s absolutely adorable.

“I’m still going to be very much in charge, but Gavino is above me, whereas before I would be the top. Now, I work for him,” I attempt to explain.

“And you agreed to that so that he would provide you with a wife?”

“I purchased you with my inheritance, my title, and my power.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, I’m not worth it.”

Dipping my head, my lips brush hers. This conversation needs to end, I need to be inside of her soon. I promised myself that I would let her rest for a day after taking her in the plane, but I’m a fucking liar.

“Yes, zuccherino, you’re worth every fucking red cent.”