Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Sienna Contessa Luciano, soon to be, Mrs. Martinez.
My wife.
I watched in awe of how gorgeous she was in a room full of heathens. How she stood out from everyone in the church. She was stunning, stealing all the air from my lungs without even trying. Her dark, black hair was pinned up high on her head with loose curls framing her beautiful face. The neckline of her white lace wedding gown was low in the front, flawlessly framing her luscious body. The dress accentuated the curves of her petite frame. Followed by the train that was at least twenty feet long behind her.
She looked classy.
Proper.
Pure.
Mine.
I was captivated. Not just in this moment but from the first time I laid eyes on her. My father used to tell me he knew my mother was the one from the moment he met her. I never quite understood how it was possible, or if there was any chance I’d get to experience love at first sight.
I had.
Wanting it all or nothing.
In the blink of an eye, there was this deep connection I felt to her like I’d known her my whole life. Not for one second did I question the emotions she pulled out of me with her snarky fucking mouth and angelic aura. Beneath it all, she was a vixen camouflaged as a saint. There was no denying the magnetic pull I felt in her presence.
It was a tightrope, my immediate possessiveness over her. The desire to own from her mind to her heart, to every goddamn hole in her heavenly body. Each deliberate step she paced brought her closer to our future.
To me.
At one point, it was obvious her father started dragging her toward me. I hadn’t seen her since Luciano informed Sienna we’d be getting married. However, it didn’t stop me from thinking about her. I craved the feel of her inviting silky skin, I yearned for the smell of her tempting scent, a starving man for what was in between her legs.
The attraction.
The lust.
The longing to get to know her from the inside, out.
I counted down the days of claiming yet another thing which was mine.
Her.
She felt it too.
It was why the seething glare on her face pointed openly in my direction. She wore it proudly. Her defiance for what was to come…
Our marriage.
It was her shield.
Her guard.
A fucking wall she built the size of my brass balls.
Sienna’s rebellious arrival only made her that much more enticing in my eyes. I couldn’t wait to fucking break her. Own her. Possess her soul. Soon enough, she’d realize who was in charge.
Me.
Her husband.
If she wanted to play cat and mouse, I’d be a fucking lion and pounce.
Once she was standing in front of me and there were no more steps to be taken, Luciano lifted her veil and I sucked in a breath. Her features became more prominent beyond her expression. He fully revealed her pouty lips and big brown eyes. Exposing the authenticity of the sadness mixed with anger in her seductive, vengeful stare. She was a vision, tethering on demise over our pending nuptials.
A mafia princess I was about to turn queen with the two simple words of, “I do.”
She wasn’t getting out of this, I wouldn’t let her.
Her father whispered something in her ear I couldn’t hear before he murmured in mine, “I’m handing you my blood, don’t make me spill yours.”
I nodded, fully aware he meant it at the drop of a dime.
After he kissed both her rosy cheeks, he firmly placed Sienna’s hands in my sturdy hold. Handing her over to me, she was literally going from her father’s hands to mine. The significance meant more to me than she could ever know.
My moment of bliss was cut short when I realized how bad she was shaking, fuming, pissed as fuck. Her composure stated exactly how she felt without having to say a word. I couldn’t help but find her reaction entertaining. It was evident she fucking hated me, and I couldn’t have cared less if I tried. Despite my lack of giving a flying fuck she didn’t want to marry me, I wanted to show her I wasn’t her rival.
In my last attempt of creating some sort of bridge between us, I handed her the handkerchief from the pocket of my tuxedo jacket.
“To wipe the frown off your face,” I commiserated.
“Why would I do that?” she spitefully argued. “This feels like my funeral.”
The priest uncomfortably cleared his throat. He was the only person who could hear us while the choirs’ harmonies echoed in the background.
“Careful, sweetheart. Your words are betraying your white wedding gown.”
“Actually, no. My dress is as deceiving as this ceremony but don’t worry. This is just the tip of the iceberg. Here in the house of the God, I’ll commit the biggest depravity. My vows to you. Those will be the biggest sins of them all.”