Page 16 of The Vendetti Soldier

“I left them right before I came to find you. Everyone but Santino was in that meeting. Your father has agreed and believes it’s a good idea.” I leave my robe hanging in the bathroom after I brush my teeth, then climb into bed, naked.

He does the same, using the extra toothbrush I set out for him. I hold the covers up, and he climbs in beside me. Turning on his side, he slides his hands under the pillow as he stares at me. “Wewill elope? How will we have time to plan anything? I thought we were having a real wedding.”

His crestfallen expression makes me want to fix everything that bothers him so I can see his excitement from dinner. He was happy earlier when he found out we’d be together, and even if it is an arranged marriage, I want to do everything I can to make sure this union is fulfilling between us. I saw how the others fought their relationships, the types of problems they faced, and I’ve learned from them. Rorik isn’t the conventional choice for mio famiglia, but Matteo has offered Santino and me a true gift. A duo we can share and fulfill our needs with while remaining focused within the Empire. It’s more than I ever could’ve hoped for, and after being nervous before, I’ve decided this is the best-case scenario.

Grabbing his wrist, I tug him until he scoots closer. He wraps his arm over me, staying on his belly as his cheek rests against my chest. I hold him, resting my hand on his lower back while the other lightly strokes across his shoulder blades. “The tailor will spend the next forty-eight hours sewing until she makes you the perfect custom suit so you’re happy on our wedding day, or else I’ll cut her fingers off,” I promise.

“This is why you said you’d be busy; you’re de-fingering harmless women,” he murmurs sleepily, making me huff out a laugh.

“The boutique will close when I announce my presence so your sister can shop safely, and the owner will adjust whatever needs changed immediately as I pay her too much money for her to not keep me pleased. Our chef is used to baking custom cakes andtreats for our parties, so I imagine she’ll start in the morning. Violet has helped plan several weddings, so she’ll be speaking to you and Mischa first thing in the morning, most likely, to organize everything she can with our trusted associates.”

“Will we have guests? Mischa wants the fairytale wedding, especially after she saw the red wedding dress Dante’s wife wore in their wedding pictures.”

My brow hikes. I’m a little surprised they’ve paid close enough attention to what previous wives have worn. “I don’t know what Matteo’s plans are on guests. The famiglia will be there, mio fratello will fly in the night before from Chicago so everyone is present. If there is anyone specific you want in attendance, you should let Violet know so she can speak to mio fratello.”

I lay there awhile, stroking him, running my fingers through his feather-soft hair while thinking about everything I have to do the next few days. It’s a lot, and anyone else would be overwhelmed, but I’m kind of glad it’s all happening so fast. It’ll keep me distracted to the point I won’t lose it over my impending nuptials. He eventually whispers my name, “Luciano?”

“Mm,” I hum while keeping my eyes closed.

He yawns and peppers a kiss on my chest. “I’m so thankful it’s you. I promise I will try to make you happy.”

Gripping him tighter, I lean down enough to breathe in his shampoo before I kiss his forehead. “Sleep, mio bell’uomo. You have a busy day tomorrow, planning our wedding.”

I drift off to a sharp feeling in my chest from his words, and it’s definitely not panic.

Chapter 8

Some girls are born to live like queens in fairytales, and some are born to fight the monsters that live in them. - The Heart Speaks

Mischa

While we were beingshot at, all I could think about was if we were going to make it out alive. Once we were inside the Estate, my concern switched immediately to Papa and if I was ever going to see him again. I was terrified, knowing he was left behind in the middle of a shoot-out. Thankfully, we all survived, and I woke up thinking we’d have the next few months to get to know the Vendetti family before our weddings. I was delusional, it appears, as our plans were thrown into a tailspin. Our wedding date has changed from three months to three days,and it’s not even a true three days! They decided this last night after I’d left Papa’s room, and they counted it as the first day.

Pushy Italians. I wasn’t even consulted on my thoughts and feelings!

I’ve got two days left until my last name changes forever, and it has my mind spinning. I found out about the change first thing when I went to check on Papa. I had to make sure he made it through the night without any problems, and he’s still okay. He assured me he’s fine, but I can’t help to worry over him. With my mother gone, having passed a few years back from an unexpected brain aneurysm, it’s made me extra protective over him.

“Mischa,” I’m drawn out of my thoughts by Violet. I’m surrounded by her and the other wives as I attempt to eat the brunch that was offered in the breakfast room. The space is full of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the back gardens and features a large round table. It’s far more relaxed compared to dinner but nonetheless opulent in its own way. We may be ‘roughing it’ in the breakfast room, but there’s still a massive crystal chandelier sparkling above us, reminding me just how vast their wealth truly is. This is no lowly organized crime family but the top tier of the Italian Mafia.

The blood from last night has been washed away outside. In its place is everyone acting as if nothing happened in the first place, and this is another day of planning. I’m trying to hold it together, but after witnessing my father’s men bleeding out in the car with us, I’m still a touch distracted.

“Yes? What did you say?”

“Do you have a favorite color you want incorporated? The usual small businesses we employ are limited on short notice, but they’ll do their best to accommodate.”

“I was mostly concerned about the dress and who would design it. I thought we’d plan the wedding around it after we had a mockup,” I admit. “But that was also before everything suddenly changed.”

“We all had quick weddings, and believe me, I understand you being overwhelmed more than anyone else. I didn’t choose anything for mine, my mother did. The only way I could show a tiny piece of myself in any of it was with the lipstick I chose.”

“Those reds can be tricky,” I smirk, thinking about the vanity full of makeup I left behind, and since I won’t be returning, I’ll have to replace everything now. At least I’ll have plenty of time on my hands to shop as I acclimate to my new life here. I’m sure my husband will be busy most days being a soldier for the family.

“I wore blue,” she admits seriously, and my mouth turns down. I don’t remember it from her wedding photos, although now that I think of it, they were taken from behind or to the side. They showed the back of her gown and long, dark hair, or the side profile of her husband’s face, but never hers. Now that I’m thinking back to it, they must’ve purposely kept her identity away from the media for as long as they could.

“You wore blue lipstick to your wedding?” I’m staring at her like she’s crazy, and all she does is nod, lips turned into a smirk.

“Maybe you should wear green as a direct message to whoever sent those men to kill us last night.” She plants the seed, and that’s all I can think of. Green to taunt the Irish. I fucking love it.

“Mint green and black,” I find myself murmuring. “I want a mint green full lace gown.”

---