“How about getting some fresh air?”
Gianna put her hand in mine. Her thin, trembling fingers were moist. I pulled her to her feet and put my hand on her back. She said nothing as I led her back into the ballroom and toward the French doors that looked out onto the hotel terrace.
Her mother opened her eyes wide and looked at her watch as if I was about to pounce on her daughter out in the garden before the scheduled bedtime. The guests mingling outside quickly came back inside to give us room.
I stopped a good distance from the windows, then lowered my gaze to my wife. With those bangs, she looked awfully cute and pretty, both of which would have been fine if they hadn’t also made her look innocent and young.
“My father told me you were afraid.” Perhaps I should have found a gentler way to broach the subject, but it was not one of my strengths. Her eyes widened, those red lips parted. “I… I’m not… I…” He bit his lower lip and looked away. The moonlight highlighted her smooth, immaculate, soft-looking skin. “Will you look at me?” She looked up.
I ran my thumb over her fingers to the ring and she shivered slightly.
“This ring makes you mine.”
She stiffened, and I realized that I should have chosen a different wording, something that didn’t sound like a Neanderthal about to claim her, not that it wasn’t true.
I was going to claim her tonight, if for no other reason than to follow traditions we both could not evade, and she was mine, but that was not what I meant. I wasn’t sure what to say to put her at ease. Gaia and I had not talked much.
She had yelled or cried and sometimes spoke softly when she wanted something.
“Tradition binds us together, Gianna. Not only you, but also me.” I had sworn to protect her, as a husband should protect his wife, and this time I would do my best to do a better job.
“I know our traditions,” she said quickly, embarrassed.
“I’m not talking about the bloody sheets.” She swallowed.
“What are you talking about, then?” “That, like my wife, you too are entitled to my protection.” Gianna tilted her head, looking at me in curiosity. “All right.” I wasn’t sure I understood my point, but I had never been a man of many words when it came to feelings. I would do my best to treat her well.
Silence fell over us. I understood that Gianna wanted to say something, maybe even wanted me to say more, but I remained silent. I didn’t know my young wife, and I had no idea what she did all day except shop and meet other women. She was a teenager and I was not. I hadn’t even acted like one when I was her age.
“Let’s go back. Our guests are waiting for us. It’s almost midnight.”
She stiffened, but followed me inside.
Alessio
Luca’s uncles, my fellow underbosses whom I could not stand, were the first to ask me to sleep with my wife. Gianna and I were with my sisters and her parents when the first shout interrupted the music. There followed roars of appreciation and applause and then a chorus of “bed her” from most of the men.
Gianna’s father and brother took no part. Christian gave me a look that bordered on threatening. At another time, I would have reacted accordingly to that kind of disrespect.
But this was not the time. He was a braver man than his father. I had to give it to him. Gianna clutched her wine glass and gave my sister Mia an embarrassed smile.
Mia hugged me tightly.
“Don’t make me kick you in, big brother. Be good to that girl. She is so cute.” I disentangled myself from my sister. I would not discuss my sex life with her. Felix gave me a stern look, but we both knew that whatever happened that night was no longer his responsibility.
He certainly loved his daughter, but he also loved power, and if he had to choose between the two…. I turned to my wife, tired of everyone prying into our marriage. Gianna looked at me shyly, her cheeks red. I held out my hand and she took it without hesitation. Her palms were sweaty.
“Are you ready to go upstairs?” I murmured, leaning down so that only she could hear me. She swallowed, but nodded.
I turned to our families.
“Excuse us?” Before Gianna and I could take our leave, Egidia once again hugged her daughter and whispered something in her ear that made my wife’s cheeks blush fiercely. With the wine glass still clutched in her hand, she allowed me to lead her away. Once again, we did not speak.
I thought I was saying something reassuring, but the truth was that there was nothing to say, and I was not a man for that kind of talk anyway. Gianna took a sip of her wine. She was on her fifth glass, at least.
“What did your mother say?” I asked to fill the tense silence between us as we took the elevator up to our suite for the night. The door opened and we stepped out.
Another sip. I stopped and took her glass away. If she had been drunk, I would have had to fake those fucking bloodstains after all. “Stop.”
“It’s ginger ale.” I took a sip from the glass, surprised. Gianna fumbled with the tiny white shoulder bag.
“I only had one glass of sparkling wine at the reception. I didn’t want to get drunk.” Those big blue eyes caught my eye. “What did your mother say?” I asked again, leading her the rest of the way to the suite. I opened the door. Gianna tightened her lips.
“May I please you and try to mask my inexperience.” She emitted a sigh.
“Right now, I’m just trying not to pass out from fear.” Her eyes widened.