“I’m not.”
Enzo scoffs and I want to throttle him for disrespecting me. “Watch yourself, brother.”
“Elizabeth Ambrosio was more than willing to marry you. A good Catholic girl from Naples, her family loves you. Why are you spending your time with some girl who may or may not be who we—” Before he can finish that phrase, his throat is in my grasp, his breath held hostage by my fingers as they tighten around his windpipe.
Looking him straight in the eyes, I make myself perfectly clear.
“She’s about to become my wife. You disrespect her, you disrespect me. Hai capito?”
“I understand perfectly.” Any other man would have cowered under my attack but Enzo has seen me do worse, his broken nose back in senior year of high school being one of them.
We stare each other down for a beat before I let him go and pat him on the side of the face like my father often does with me.
“You’re the brother I never got, Enzo. I need you to have my back.”
“Always.”
Glancing up at the stairs, I talk myself out of running up there and making River come so hard her screams are imprinted in the memory of the walls. She thinks this is a punishment, but she couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s so much more than that.
The pain she’s feeling right now is destroying her self-confidence, it’s playing with her level head. I know very little, but I do know this… I may be paying River to step in as my wife, but I’m not paying her to suck my dick because it’s her job.
When we fuck, it’ll be because she can’t take another minute without my dick in every one of her welcoming holes.
* * *
The next morning, I make sure Luca, my cook, has a healthy and balanced breakfast ready for River so I can bring it up to her room. I’m giving her the space she needs, for now, before moving her into my room.
“Marco! Mamma said you’re going to a funeral?” I hear my little sister before I see her as she hurriedly makes her way to me, heels clicking along my black marble floors. “Who died?”
We both stare at each other like deer in headlights. Her, because I’m halfway up the stairs carrying a tray with an array of foods, and me, because… well, for the exact same reason. This isn’t normal. I don’t bring women breakfast in bed. I never have and didn’t think I ever would. Apparently, you can teach old dogs to heel.
“What are you doing?” Her words are whispered as though she’s afraid that saying them out loud would disintegrate the image in front of her.
“Mind your own business, Lina. I can be a gentleman.” At this, she outright laughs. A full belly laugh that has my molars grinding with the insult.
“I can’t believe you’re saying that with a straight face. Is that long-standing room you have booked at our Upper West Side location your way of being a gentleman?” Fucking brat. I ignore her and walk my ass to River’s room where I hope I’ll get a little more gratitude. Why do the women in my life make it a point to piss me off all day, every day?
Holding the tray with one hand, the only warning River gets before I walk straight into her bedroom is a double knock on the door. I’m feeling generous this morning.
Everyone in her life coddles her, makes her feel like she can’t take on her own battles.
Fuck that.
Her backbone is made of titanium. She doesn’t need protecting because she’s the protector.
Until I came into the picture. I will push her until she’s standing proud like the queen she is about to become.
“Rise and shine, Dolcezza.” Placing the tray on the small table next to her bed, I walk straight to the curtains and pull them apart, letting the cloudy December day spill into the room.
When I turn around, I’m greeted with a thong-clad ass facing me and the rest of River’s body hidden by the voluptuous down comforter. She apparently got lost in it during the night.
“River!” Fuck me, the things I want to do to that ass.
“Hmmm, your bed is the most comfy of all the beds in the world.” Scratch that. The sleepy sound of her voice makes me want to do filthy things with her mouth even more.
“Get up.”
“I don’t wanna.”