Page 10

O livia

W hat sort of asshole gives you the most incredible orgasm one minute, threatens you the next, and then cheerfully tells you they’ll see you at your wedding?

The sort of asshole I’m a half hour away from marrying, that’s who.

It’s been a couple of days since Piotr paid that brief visit to my home, and I’m still reeling.

The man can cause an enormous amount of confusion in a very short time without even breaking a sweat.

I don’t know where I am with him, and I suspect he likes it that way. He wants to keep me off balance.

As the stylist fussing with my hair inserts one last pin to hold the elegant chignon in place, my sisters-in-law all coo in admiration.

Except for Emilia, who’s been getting ready to perform her bridesmaid’s duties in a different room, they’ve kept me company all morning.

They’ve been telling me all about the sweet things my brothers have done for them.

I guess it’s their way of trying to assure me that these tough Mafia men have a softer side.

It turns out Leo, of all people, can be romantic when he chooses to be. My big bad enforcer brother takes Vinnie to the zoo regularly and buys her stuffed animals from the gift shop.

“I only have to mention wanting to try a new bakery or takeout place and he brings me something home,” Vinnie says in the clipped British accent that gives her an air of posh-ness.

“Antonio likes to leave little gifts around the house for me to find.” Isabella seems to have completely forgiven my brother.

He almost exiled her for a second time when he found out she’d been covering for me with Joey Gallo.

My brother has been a total asshole to her for most of their marriage, but apparently none of that matters now.

“Matteo’s brought me flowers every day since we came back from Italy.”

I don’t point out to Giulia that it’s barely been a week. She’s here with the others, trying to give me hope my marriage won’t be as bleak as I expect, so I can’t be mean to her.

“I doubt Piotr’s the romantic type.” There’s no concealing the despondency in my voice.

It would be nice to have a husband who brought me gifts and took me to places I want to visit, but I can’t imagine that’s what I’m getting with Piotr.

He doesn’t seem the type to show such consideration, but perhaps I’m underestimating him.

For all I know, he might be a hopeless romantic.

I won’t hold my breath waiting to find out, though.

“You know it’s not too late to back out,” Giulia says. “I owe you a plane ride if you need it.”

“And miss the chance to show off this dress?” I try to keep my tone light. There is a part of me that’s tempted to jump on a plane and leave all this behind. The trouble is there’s no destination far enough to take me beyond Piotr’s reach.

“There, Miss Volante.” Corinne, the stylist my mother hired to help me get ready, places a band decorated with silver flowers in my hair. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you.” Looking in the mirror, I tilt my head from one side to the other, admiring the way the light glints off my headband.

As Corinne grabs her things and leaves the room, Alessia enters. As my second bridesmaid, she’s been busy with my mother and Emilia getting ready and ensuring there are no last-minute hitches.

“You look gorgeous, Liv.” Alessia circles me as she carries out a thorough inspection.

“So do you.”

The strapless baby blue gowns we selected for her and Emilia to wear have chiffon trains that billow out as they walk. It makes them appear as if they’re floating. The dreaminess of their dresses fits with the ethereal quality of mine.

“I know, right?” Alessia knows how attractive she is. With flowing black hair and vivid green eyes, she’s never short of male attention. “Your mom will be up in a minute. She’s grilling the best man about his marriage prospects.”

I roll my eyes. My mother cannot bear to see a man in his late twenties without a wife on his arm. Though I haven’t met Piotr’s friend, Sev Baranov, there are loads of photos of him online. He’s seriously hot, so I doubt he lacks for female company. If he wanted to get married, he would.

“What’s Sev like?” Isabella asks.

“Uh, he seemed nice.”

“So, not your type?” Giulia quips.

“Nah.” Alessia grins broadly. “I’m all about the assholes.”

“Well, there’s certainly plenty of those around here.

” The corners of Vinnie’s mouth turn down in distaste.

As the daughter of a now-deceased Mafia boss who exiled her and her mother to Europe when she was a baby, Vinnie has a poor opinion of the men in our world.

I can’t work out how the hell she ended up all starry-eyed over Leo, who’s one of the biggest dickheads I know.

“Speaking of assholes,” Alessia says. “You’ll never guess who Dante Parisi brought as his plus one.”

Whoever it is, I’m sure he only dragged the poor woman along to piss off Alessia.

“Who?” Giulia asked when Alessia’s pause for effect showed no sign of ending.

“Marissa Locatelli.”

A collective groan comes from everyone but Vinnie, who hasn’t had the pleasure of Marissa’s company yet. “Who’s Marissa Locatelli?”

“A two-faced bimbo slut.” Giulia can’t hide her disdain for the woman who teased her at the funeral of her first husband. Matteo had joined Marissa in cruelly mocking Giulia, and she’d cut him out of her life for several months before they finally got together.

“She stole Alessia’s boyfriend in ninth grade,” I add.

Alessia snorts. “If Dante Parisi’s her target, she’s welcome to him.”

I don’t believe that and neither do any of the others. Anyone with eyes can see that Dante and Alessia are hot for each other. It’s only pigheadedness that prevents either of them from admitting it. There’s no chance to tease her about that, because my mother walks in.

Stunning in a floor-length green silk dress, Ava Volante is a timeless beauty. Despite raising six unruly children, she doesn’t bear the wrinkles of many women her age.

“You girls need to take your seats,” she tells my brothers’ wives. She glances around the room. “Where’s Emilia?”

I was wondering about that myself.

“Alessandro dragged her into the linen closet ten minutes ago,” Alessia answers with a grin.

My mother rolls her eyes. “That boy! The way he accosts poor Emilia every chance he gets, you’d think I would have a grandchild on the way by now.”

“I don’t think they’re planning a family yet.

Emilia’s too busy with work.” Aside from that, she’s only twenty-one, a year older than me.

It’s not an argument that would work on my mother, though.

She already had Antonio and Leo by that age.

She sees nothing wrong with popping out kids the moment you get married.

“Well, someone needs to make me a nonna soon.” She stares pointedly at my sisters-in-law, who are all on their feet and heading for the door.

Vinnie’s cheeks flush and she lowers her gaze as she passes my mother.

Interesting. Is she hiding something from the family?

Are she and Leo about to inflict his spawn on the world?

I’ll have to watch her at the reception to see if she drinks any alcohol.

As the other women troop out, my mother motions for Alessia to follow them. When we’re alone, she curves a hand around my cheek and smiles softly. “You look beautiful, bambina .”

“Thanks, Mamma.”

“If you have any problems with Piotr, if he doesn’t treat you well, come to me. Boris loves his nephew, but he won’t hesitate to set him straight if he hurts you.”

“I’ll be fine, Mamma.” Even to my own ears, that wasn’t convincing. I don’t think Piotr would ever be violent toward me, but I don’t know how much care he’ll take of my feelings.

“Okay.” She pats my arm. “Matteo’s waiting to speak to you. Can I send him in?”

My brother and I haven’t seen each other since we returned to New York. I guess he was still smarting about me helping Giulia to run from him. Since they’ve reconciled, I assume he’s decided to forgive me. If he hasn’t, well, I can deal with that too.

“Of course. Tell him to come in.”

Careful not to mess up my hair and makeup, my mother pulls me in for a quick hug.

She doesn’t show me the same affection as she does my brothers.

We’ve been butting heads for years and I guess we’re not as close as we once were.

It’s something I’ll try to put right once I’m settled into my life with Piotr.

“I’ll see you downstairs.” She gives me one last squeeze and steps out. Matteo comes into the room mere seconds later. Was he standing out in the corridor, waiting to see if I’d speak to him?

“Wow!” He shakes his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “You look beautiful, Livvy.”

“Thanks. You’re kind of handsome in that suit.”

“This old thing?” He grins as he tugs at his tie.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as Matteo builds up to whatever he has to say. My siblings and I aren’t great at making up after we fight. For one thing, none of us ever wants to admit we were in the wrong and, for another, we don’t like to dig too deeply into our emotions.

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” I ask when I realize my brother doesn’t know how to say whatever it is he wanted to.

“No, you did the right thing. Giulia leaving me like that helped me gain some perspective.”

I can’t help scoffing at that. “One of my brothers recognized he was acting like a jerk? We need to mark this day on the calendar.”

“For more than one reason.” Matteo steps closer, concern etched in the lines around his narrowed eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“No, but I’m going to do it, anyway.”

“Why?”

I could say it’s to please Antonio. That’s partly true, but that’s not the entire story.

“Because I think it could work.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” Marriage to Piotr will bring challenges, but I think given time I can work out what makes him tick and use it to my advantage.

Matteo studies me for a moment and then nods. “Okay, if you’re sure you want to do this, I’d be honored if you’d let me walk you down the aisle.”

“What about Antonio?” I assumed, as head of our family, he’d be the one to give me away. I feel a little hurt. “Doesn’t he want to do it?”

“Of course he does,” Matteo assures me. “He’d be proud to have you on his arm, but this is your day and he thinks you’d be happier with me.”

It’s a surprisingly sweet gesture from our oldest brother. He’s usually all about appearances, and it may look strange to some people if he’s not the one who walks me down the aisle. Perhaps he cares more about me than I realized.

“Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

Matteo offers me his arm, and I link mine through it.

Emilia, who doesn’t look like she’s just been in the linen closet with Alessandro, and Alessia are waiting in the corridor.

They help me by lifting the train of my dress as we walk down the main staircase into the entrance hall.

We make our way along the corridor with pictures of my family looking down on us until we come to the library.

At the door, Alessia hands me my bouquet.

She gives me an encouraging smile, and then she and Emilia go in ahead of us.

“Ready?” Matteo asks.

As the harpist starts to play, I take a breath and nod to show him I am.

We enter the room to find my mother and brothers waiting along with my aunts, uncles, cousins, and some of the highest-ranking men from the Volante and Reznov organizations.

Apart from his uncle, I don’t know if Piotr has any family here.

The library has been transformed. The dark, austere room is filled with floral arrangements in a riot of color.

Rows of white wooden chairs have been brought in.

There’s an arch adorned with blush pink roses standing in place of the large mahogany desk where my father used to work whenever we came to Westport.

He rarely took a real vacation. His mind was always on business.

Piotr stands in the archway, looking amazing in a gray suit with matching vest and a pink tie that’s the same shade as the peonies in my bouquet. I’m not sure how he pulled that off since we didn’t confer, but I’m impressed.

The hulking brute of a man beside him is Sev Baranov.

He’s not pretty like Piotr, who’s been blessed with angelic features.

His jaw is square and his nose has a distinct bump near the bridge.

A silver line cuts through his lips, a scar from an injury healed long ago.

His sexiness stems from his level of confidence.

He carries himself like a man who knows what he wants and how to get it.

Reputed to be a merciless killer, he looks surprisingly warm as he smiles at me.

Piotr, by contrast, is completely devoid of expression, until I get up close and see the searing heat in his eyes.

When we come to a stop next to him, Matteo kisses my cheek and steps back.

I take a deep breath and turn to Piotr. The determination clear in the hard set of his jaw tells me all I need to know. There’s no escaping him now.