My possession. My reward. My wife.
I ready her and zip my fly.
“Get dressed,” I tell her. “Everyone will know I marked you. Let’s eat. Let the echoes of your screams ring in his ears while he waits for me to come back.”
Her gaze travels to the back of the room. She blinks in surprise, as if just remembering our prisoner witnessed this.
“You still hungry, baby?”
“Starving.”
And that’s what I get for marrying a mafia princess. If she’s bothered by this, it doesn’t show. Either that, or she’s lying.
I’ll come back to our prisoner later.
Two hours later, I’m heading to The Castle. Tavi, Santo, and Mario are taking care of the prisoner’s body. After I fucked her next to him, I made him sit waiting for his sentence while I ordered lunch.
I call Mama on the way. “Hey, Mama. I’m coming home.”
“You’re coming home?” Her voice is hopeful, and I can almost hear her smiling.
“I am. Rosa home yet?”
Elise sits stock-still and straight beside me.
“No, not yet. You bringing your new wife?”
“I am, of course.”
“Ah, then. Maybe I’ll wear something appropriate to meet my new daughter-in-law.”
“Ohh, is he bringing the new girl?” someone questions in the background. Mama laughs.
“Yeah, Mama. I’m bringing the new girl.”
When I hang up the phone, Elise is worrying her lip, a habit of hers.
“Who’s there?” she asks.
“Marialena. Have you met her?”
“Uh, hmm. Not sure. I don’t think so.” She looks out the window. Why does she look like she’s hiding something?
“Elise.”
At the sharp tone of my voice, she swings her gaze back to mine. “Yes?”
“You hiding something from me?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
I shake my head. “No reason.”
We drive in silence through traffic. I reach my hand to grab her knee. She lets me.
“When can I have my phone back?”
“Soon, maybe tonight. Why? You got something on there you don’t want me to see?”
She only shakes her head.
“Jesus,” I groan when we pull up to the house, The Castle, the home I grew up in. The bright late afternoon sun glints against a cluster of pearly white balloons tied to the railing by the front door, and flowers line the path like a floral welcome mat.
“My sister sometimes goes overboard,” I groan. She looks a little surprised but doesn’t respond. I carry what few bags we brought, and when she reaches for hers, only need to narrow my eyes at her. She steps back. She’s learning.
She ate a hearty lunch, even though she knew what I was going to do when we were done.
“Hope you’re hungry again later,” I say. “My Mama and Nonna will have cooked enough food for an army. Later.” Our dogs walk quietly over to greet us, their thick, whip-like tails whizzing through the air when they see me. It’s been a while.
“Ahh, here they are!” Marialena stands in the doorway entrance to the garage, her arms wide open. “The new bride and my jailbird brother!”
I grunt at her, but a second later she squeals when I swing her straight up into the air before I give her a bear hug.
“Oh my God, I’m glad you came home, too!” She reaches for my bride’s hand. “Refresh my memory. Rosa hasn’t told me much about you. Elise Regazza, yes?”
Elise nods, her cheeks a little pink. Embarrassed? Nervous? I watch carefully.
“Any siblings?” Marialena reaches for her hand and tugs her along into the house.
“No. I’m an only child.”
“Oh, you poor child,” Marialena says. “My brothers are major hard-asses, and Rosa’s a bossy bitch, but I can’t even imagine being the only one around for my Papa to harass.” She quickly makes the sign of the cross. “May his soul rest in peace. Are your parents still with us?”
“Yes,” Elise says, then she looks quickly my way with a silent plea for help.
“Marialena.”
“What?” she asks over her shoulder. “Forgive me for wanting to get to know my new sister!” She squeals. “Oh, can I take her shopping, Lando? Please? Pretty please?”
Lando. I haven’t heard her pet name for me in so long, my throat tightens.
“Marialena.” A woman’s voice comes from the steps. I look up to see Vittoria standing at the bottom landing of the spiral staircase that takes us to the second floor. “I of all people ought to know how hard it is to be swept right into the crazy Rossi family fold. Give her a little space, honey.” She smiles softly at me. Romeo’s bride. “Hi. I’m Vittoria, Romeo’s wife.”
Elise smiles shyly. “Hi.”
“Ahh, here she is! The lovely bride!” Mama enters the room. “And my son! He’s home!”
She walks to me on three-inch stilettos. She’s colored her hair since I was gone and it looks like her cheeks are fuller, like she’s gained a little of the weight she needed to. It seems life without the overbearing presence of Papa has suited her well. When she reaches me on tiptoes, even with her high-heeled shoes, I have to lean down to kiss her on each cheek.