Page 20 of DeLuca: The Devil

He steps aside as Giada makes her way to me. I take her trembling hand in mine, “Bellissima.”

I lean down and whisper in her ear, “I’ve never seen anything so stunning in all my life.”

“Thank you,” she says with a small smile that vanishes almost as quickly as it appeared.

Glancing at the Priest, I say, “Let’s get started.”

Half an hour later, after exchanging rings and vows, I'm a married man. Something I never aspired to. Tomorrow, the war starts.

Everybody walks inside where drinks and desserts will be served. We are having a non-traditional wedding cake. My wife’s favorite cake is cheesecake, so that’s what we’re having. Mark my words, if she doesn’t eat it, I’ll take her over my knee in front of everyone.

I take her hand and walk her to the bar where my remaining family stands, “This is Damian, Drake, Dante, and Dalia. This is Giada.”

They all shake her hand and are polite. All my brothers know better than not to be cordial to my wife. My sister, too. She can be difficult sometimes, but Dalia has been raised to know when to be polite. Giada may not be the love of my life, still, we are married, and I expect her to be respected. I demand it.

I glance at Damian, “Stay here with my wife.”

Walking over to my head of security at the house, I see a concerned look on Marc’s face.

“Something I should know?”

He glances around the room, “The Baretti’s are contacting the different families looking for her.”

“I’ve not been contacted.”

Marc nods, “I know. That’s what concerns me. Are you staying in tonight?”

“We are. I want men along the perimeter as well as inside.”

“Of course, Boss.”

“Nobody is to be on the second floor unless there is a confirmed threat.”

I walk back over to Giada who is having an animated conversation with Dante. She’s laughing hysterically and I don’t like it. Not one bit.

Placing my arm around her, I pull her into my side, “It’s time for wedding cake, Wife.”

She gazes at me, “I’m not-”

“Good girl.”

I knew she would say she wasn’t hungry. I’m glad she stopped herself because this isn’t optional.

We walk over to the cake table my chef set up with many different flavored Cheesecakes, Blueberry, Cherry, Strawberry, Chocolate, White Chocolate Raspberry, and Salted Caramel.

Giada gasps, “Oh my God. Cheesecake is my favorite.”

“I know it is, Bellissima.”

She smiles like a giddy little kid, “What kind are you having?”

I chuckle, “None. I don’t like Cheesecake.”

Turning to me, she crosses her arms over her chest, “Husband, either we both eat or neither of us do. That is non-fucking-negotiable.”

I smirk, “Did you throw my words back at me?”

She beams at me, “I did.”

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