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"My love... has come along..."
My hand lands on the flare of her hip as I hold her close, her ample chest flush against my ribcage, and her free hand goes to my bicep. God she smells so fucking good. I could breathe her in for a millennia.
"My lonely days... are over..."
Her head tilts to the side and I watch the goosebumps rise on her flawless skin. "I learned something new today, Princess."
"And life is like a song..."
I spin her and when she twirls back to me, I clutch her tighter, and a little gasp catches in her throat. "Your father... has failed to make a name for himself within the brotherhood, hasn't he, princess?"
"At last, the skies above are blue..."
Verdant eyes like sea glass stare up at me, and when my heart begs to beat erratically, I let out a growl, unwilling to let myself feel anything, only let us sidestep to the next few words of the song. "No. Not a princess. Less than. ADutchess."
"I found a dream... that I could speak to..."
I almost want to laugh at the words of this fucking song. How fucking ridiculous.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She breathes, struggling a little in my hold but I don't let her escape.
"A dream that I... can call my own..."
"No? Tell me why no one in the Syndicate bothered to look twice in your direction, nor made negotiations for your hand, hmm? Why can'tyour father pay back his debt, having to arrange for you to pay it off for him? You should be dripping in gold, little wife. So why aren’t you?”
"I found a thrill... to rest my cheek to..."
Another spin, and I wish her skirt wasn't so fucking big, so she could feel my grip through it. Another small struggle, she only trembles in my hold, fumbling through the dance, and I use that as an excuse to keep her close, lowering my head so she can hear me better, just as Etta James sings, "A thrill that I have never known."
"Not only are youweak, my gorgeous bride... but it seems you're also asuselessas your father." I lay a kiss beneath her ear, and our guests swoon, cheering us on as I feel her throat bob against my lips. A soft whimper escapes her, and the sound goes straight to my cock.
"Oh... you smile... you smile..."
I watch as that stupid fucking smile, which I now know isnothingbut a goddamn mask, slips back onto her face. All for them, never for me. It's all a fucking show for this woman.This world is nothing but a stage to her.
"And then the spell was cast..."
"Seems we finally agreed on something, Mr. Giordano," and though that smile is plastered on so tightly, though she looks up at me like a bride adoring her new husband, it doesn't reach her eyes. Itneverreaches her eyes. I may as well be holding a corpse bride being held together by nothing but pink twine and diamonds.
"And here we are... in heaven... for you are mine..."
The words she said to her father the day in his office when he told her she would be marrying me ring loudly in my head. “If you are to go destitute, it’ll be my husband you ask for cash. After all, I’ll no longer be your puppet.”
Does this make me my pretty new bride’s master?
I spin her one last time and then dip her, and when Etta James sings the final, "At last..."I kiss my bride, who tastes of nothing and everything, of mint and berries and beautiful, sultry lies,brutally,so she can taste my disdain for her. She's breathless and pink when we part, the flush of her skin does something to me I don't like.
Goddamn this woman.
I stand straight and hold her for a second longer before twirling her straight into her good-for-nothing father's arms for their beloved dance. Because my wife, as good as she is at lying, she's perfect at maintaining her image.
She may hate me, but she hates that man more for giving her to me.
Chapter Thirteen
Sabrina.
Weakanduseless.