I didn’t know much about wedding dresses, nor about wedding traditions. The moment I saw Marcella, nothing else mattered. Not the critical or judgmental looks from some of the guests, or even the hostile expressions from some of the Made Men. To win the trust of the Famiglia, I still had a long way to go. But I’d finally arrived where I needed to be, at the side of a good woman.
Marcella wore a tight, floor-length dress. The upper part was lace with a high neck that even covered part of her throat, letting her neck appear even more elegant. Pieces of lace adorned her wrists and sheer fabric covered her arms up until the short sleeves. It was an elegant dress, but still managed to appear almost conservative. Of course, Marcella wouldn’t be Marcella if she didn’t give her critics the finger in a subtle way. The lace in the back had a hole right over the tattoo of her crown. Her hair was up so every guest who watched the ceremony had to stare at her crown. A queen through and through.
I could only imagine what some of the stuck-up folk in the Famiglia thought of that. Maybe they had thought Marcella would have a small wedding, everything hush-hush because of who she married, or that she would hide the marks of her captivity, but Marcella wasn’t someone who hid or ducked away, and fuck that’s what I loved about her. She could be tough as nails but beneath it she was soft as molten butter.
I tore my eyes away from her with ginormous difficulty when Luca looked at me, ready to give her to me.
I held out my hand.
Luca took a step forward. “I’m giving you my daughter today. I hope you realize what kind of gift that is. Don’t make me regret this, or I’ll make you regret it.”
I inclined my head. I’d expected nothing less than a threat from Luca on this day, anything else would have been a huge disappointment.
When he finally handed her over to me and her warm palm touched mine, my sole focus turned to her.
“You’re missing a real crown,” I murmured. “Because you are a fucking queen, Snow White.”
She smiled. “One crown is enough and it’s the only one everyone’s paying attention to anyway.”
“Forget all of them, everything but us.”
She nodded and with linked hands we turned to the pastor.
When I said ‘I do’, I remembered Amo’s words about losing my freedom, but like before, I didn’t feel any less free. I was looking forward to a life at Marcella’s side.
Before we braved the congratulations, Marcella seemed lost, her gaze distant as we waited outside for the rest of the guests to file out of church.
I leaned down. “What are you thinking? You look miles away.”
“That I’m glad I was brave enough for our love.”
I cocked a brow. “Am I such a risky bet?”
“As if you don’t know it.”
I shrugged with a grin, squeezing her hand, loving the feel of my ring around her finger. My woman.
With her by my side, I’d be strong enough to ignore the fake congratulations and sugary-sweet-smiles of people who saw our bond as an affront to what they believed in. I’d spend the rest of my life pissing them off by flaunting our love in front of their faces. And maybe I’d kill one or two by accident. I was sure Matteo would help me dispose of the bodies.
Marcella sent me a look that said she knew what I was thinking, and I doubted she’d have any qualms about me ridding the world of one or two of her extended family.
“I knew she’d avoid the bloody sheets tradition.”
“Of course, she gave it away before marriage.”
“Slut.”
My blood pumped wildly in my veins. I’d expected rumors and even badmouthing, but hearing it first hand was a different matter. Most of my life I’d worked hard to appear perfect in everyone’s eyes.
Now the scale had tipped in people’s eyes. My failures weighed more heavily than my successes. I was no longer untouchable.
I braced myself and took a deep breath. Their thoughts didn’t matter. What they judged me for wasn’t something I should be ashamed for. And I wouldn’t let anyone ruin my wedding, definitely not someone like Cressida. That girl proved to be the thorn in my foot. The moment I stepped out their faces twisted with shock, but also a hint of curiosity, probably soaking up my reaction like a sponge. Cressida was with her friend from last time again, but this time a third girl was with them.
I gave them my coldest smile. “You should be grateful that my father abolished the Bloody Sheets tradition. It means you can choose to keep your dignity by keeping the most private moments between a husband and wife actually private. Of course, it’s up to you to diminish the night’s importance and with it the bond itself by sharing bloody details for curious eyes.”
The girls’ mouths were open. Without another word, I left the room with a swoosh of my dress. Outside, I took another deep breath. My hands were actually shaking. I knew my words would change nothing. People would keep speculating about my sexual activities and badmouth me for it. But my words had given me strength. This was only the first of many battles I’d have to fight against prejudices and malice because of the man I loved, but I’d always fight them gladly.
Maddox was waiting for me with a glass of champagne for me and a bottle of beer for himself.
I took the champagne and emptied half the glass, even if it was a shame to waste champagne on anger drinking.
“What’s up?” Maddox asked quietly.
Most people used the after-dinner satisfaction for business discussions or to chat.
My eyes caught on Cressida once more. She stood by her parents. They, too, belonged to those who judged me as openly as their survival instinct allowed. I hadn’t told Dad about her, she wasn’t worth it, and I doubted Amo had done it either.
“Some girls called me a slut for avoiding the bloody sheets tradition.”
Maddox’s lips curled. “That tradition is vile, and girls should be glad it’s gone. Why would anyone want to bleed during sex? Don’t tell me you regret not being a virgin, because I would have died of blue balls if you’d insisted on keeping your cherry until your wedding night.”
I nudged his shoulder. “You would have survived. And no, I don’t regret it. Not at all. If I was a virgin and intended to deliver bloody sheets, I couldn’t have sex with you on our wedding party.”
His brows rose slowly and a playful smile pulled at his lips, making his dimple-scar pop up. Maddox grabbed my hand. “I hope you were serious because I’m going to fuck you now.”
His hold on my hand was almost painful as he dragged me into the male restroom. He shoved an armchair that had been in the corner against the door, jamming the handle. Toilet sex was becoming a tradition. Lucky that this was the best hotel in town and each toilet a separate, luxurious room of its own.
“Since you licked the cream off my cock, I have been dying. Fuck, Snow White. I’m so horny, if you don’t want me to sport an erection during our dance you let me fuck you now.”
His mouth collided with mine almost desperately. My own body was desperate for his touch. “Fuck me, we don’t have much time.”