Page 8 of The Vendetti Soldier

The Capo remains standing while he doles out introductions, then sits and begins speaking between Papa and Violet. There are no children present, only six muscular Vendetti men along with their four wives, making it a full table and a lot of names for me to remember. Not that I need practice; I’ve been reading about these people for years and feel as if I already know way more about them than what they’d probably be comfortable with. The men cast me curious glances while the women offer me polite smiles and dig into their appetizers once they’re settled. I can’t help but wonder what they think of me. They’ve all beenmarried for a while now, the newest couple being Dante and Emilia, but they’re not here.

The pad of Santino’s thumb gently swipes the skin beside my mouth, drawing my attention solely back on him and making it hard to breathe. He holds it up so I can see, wearing a devastating grin. “You had a little olive oil, and it was taking everything inside me not to lean in and lick it off.”

Lord. I’m going down.A hot flash hits me, my nipples pebbling behind the silky material of my dress at his promised confession, and so help me, I want to put the oil back and dare him to taste me. My thighs shift, squeezing together at my throbbing clit.

Licking my lips, I breathily murmur, “Thank you,” and enjoy how he stares hard enough at my mouth that he has me seriously considering leaning in so he can taste me there too.Please let me be marrying him after all, because if not, I’m never going to be able to stop wanting to jump him all while wearing his brother’s ring on my finger.

A couple of the staff fill our glasses with ice water and the delicate flutes with our choice of wine, asking if we’d like other options. I gratefully accept the closest bottle of wine for mine, tossing back half the glass as I’m overheated sitting next to this gorgeous man. I swear every time his arm merely grazes mine, I break out in a fresh set of goosebumps and want to place his big palm on my thigh. A different servant quickly steps forward to top my wine off before they all disappear through another doorway. I notice a symphony piece playing low enough in the background, but I can barely hear it. The music does a good job of drowning out any silence while also not being distractingenough for everyone to have multiple conversations around the table.

“Tonight is a celebration,” the Capo says, drawing attention to him once more. All conversation halts as we eagerly listen to the man in charge. If we were in Russia, it’d be the opposite, and Papa would be the one speaking right now, as he rules everything there, it seems. “Where once again, we expand. Our famiglia grows bigger as we welcome another into theEmpire.” The brothers’ stares all briefly shoot to me, and I offer a smile I hope appears confident, even if my stomach is doing crazy flips on the inside. I’m going to get what I want. I’ll be the next Vendetti.

He continues, “While tonight was originally planned to celebrate theBlood OathYuri has made for Mischa to marry a Vendetti, we were able to make an additional agreement.” The various Vendettis grin around the table, obviously knowing what these oaths mean, while Rorik and I flick our stares between Papa and the Capo. I’m already aware if we marry, I have to give them an heir at some point, so it can’t be the additional agreement they came to about that, which only serves to make me nervous. I was feeling confident going into this, but I don’t like the pleased smirks that are mirrored on both of the men-in-charge’s faces.

I fist my shaking hands and move them into my lap so no one will notice and silently exhale a long breath. As soon as my hand is out of sight, Santino’s fingers find mine underneath the table. He threads our hands together, offering me an encouraging squeeze. It only makes me want to kiss him more now, looking to comfort me when he’s barely met me. For all he knows, I could be a colossal bitch about to make his life hell, but he doesn’thesitate in letting me know he’s beside me and is obviously pleased being there. I send him a grateful smile and respectfully turn my attention back to the Capo.

“You see, Mischa is atwin. One who is used to sharing everything with her brother. Our frattelli are used to sharing as well.” Several mouths pop open for reasons I’m obviously not privy to. Violet’s expression mirrors her husband’s, smirking like she’s in on a secret the family shares. “Santino and Mischa will wed,” he states, and everyone cheers. My heart beats double time as a wave of relief hits me. “And,” he pauses dramatically, “Luciano and Rorik will wed as well.”

Gasps ring out, and my eyes widen in surprise, training my attention to him.

My brother sputters, while now my jaw is practically on the floor as well. “E-excuse me?” Rorik stammers, shock coating his features. “Papa?” he asks, and our father nods, pride shining toward his oldest son.

“TheOathswere signed,” he says and shows the table both of his hands, where there’s a fresh slice down the middle of each palm. My father actually signedin his blood. “My prince and printsessa will make me a proud papa, joining our family with the most powerful Italian name in America.” He and the Capo nod at each other, pleased smirks firmly in place as they’ve come up with the ultimate power play between both of our families.

Matteo raises his glass. “To Mischa and Rorik becomingVendetti.Welcome to the famiglia.”

We follow suit, tapping our glasses to our neighbors and then taking a drink. If you’re me and Rorik, then you down the entire glass and nod when the staff quickly steps forward to refill them.

Violet leans in, “Our physician will confirm you can indeed have children, then you’ll get married. We’re all excited to welcome you into our famiglia.”

I immediately start coughing, choking on my own spit in disbelief. Gulping down some water to stay remotely sober in the moment, I stand suddenly. “Ex-excuse me.”

Santino stands with me, keeping our fingers entwined.

I meet his concerned gaze and ask, “Bathroom?”

Matteo’s brow shoots up, but he doesn’t comment on my coughing; rather, he orders, “Santino, see your betrothed to freshen up.”

“Sì,” the man beside me instantly replies, dwarfing me with his large frame.

Does the Capo think I’ll try to run? I’m the one who organized this to happen in the first place. I won’t be going anywhere, especially not until my last name is Vendetti and I have one of their large rocks weighing down my ring finger.

I turn to Santino the moment we’re alone, “I was caught off guard. I’m fine, really, I need a breather is all.” I should keepmy mouth shut, but I don’t. I’m blindingly trusting him, which is something I never do. He’s going to be my husband, so I suppose I need to get used to the idea of leaning on someone other than Rorik or Papa.

“The room may be large, but it can be overwhelming at times, especially when everyone’s around the table.”

I nod, grateful he seems to be taking this so well. We stop at the closest bathroom, and rather than going inside, I lean against the closed door. “Santino,” I begin to attempt to explain further, or something, and he takes a step closer, his form blocking me between his frame and the cool wood at my back. “Are you okay with this? You’re not upset you’re betrothed to me?”

He smirks, his irises fluctuating from deep bronze to rich chocolate as desire pools in his gaze. Leaning in, he takes a deep inhale of my hair before shifting his lips lower. His mouth grazes my ear as he whispers, “Upset? On the contrary, I can’t stop thinking about tasting your pussy.”

Drawing in a swift, surprised inhale at his brash honesty, my hand finds the lapel of his dinner jacket, giving it a tug. It’s forceful enough that his chest presses against mine before his reflexes kick in and he can stop himself. Turning my face, my lips graze the corner of his as I murmur, “Kiss me, Santino. Let me taste your tongue.”

With a groan, he’s twisting the handle behind me, shoving us through the doorway and into the powder room. He closes the door with a quick, easy kick, not wasting a moment before hishands are on my hips. He lifts me onto the edge of the sink effortlessly, stepping between my legs as they part to make room for his imposing frame, and then his mouth dives in. I meet him just as ferociously, my body humming with desire for him from the moment he entered the dining room. All of the brothers are attractive, but there’s something about Santino that makes him stand out; the same can be said for Valentino. Maybe it’s the lighter hair and eyes compared to their brothers and father. Based on the pictures we found online, Santino’s features favor his mother while the others look more like their father. Valentino, on the other hand, seems like he’s been adopted, as he’s all light to their broody darkness. He must take after an uncle or something.

The taste of Santino’s lips, warm and intoxicating, has my head spinning as our mouths meld together in a frenzy of lust. His hands, strong and possessive, trail up my thighs and grip the curve of my hips, pulling me to the point of falling off. His firm cock meets my sensitive, panty-covered folds, deliciously pressing against me and keeping me from stumbling forward. The intensity between us is like a minefield, explosions ready to go off with the right amount of pressure. His intensity ignites every nerve ending in my body, and I’m beyond thrilled that he’s as attracted to me as I am to him when he’s going to end up being my husband at some point.

His fingers inch beneath the hem of my dress, the pad of his thumb tracing delicate patterns along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A shiver runs down my spine, and I arch into his touch, craving more. I want to feel his fingers all over me, and with his passion, I’m not the only one needing it. Our breathscome in ragged gasps, mingling as he pulls back from the kiss to ask, “Are you on any birth control?”

I shake my head, cheeks and chest hot while my breasts feel ridiculously heavy. “Of course not.” I know better than to take anything when coming into this family. Anyone with half a brain can see how important family legacy is to the Vendettis. Of course they’d want children, expect them even, as part of any sort of formal union. I’ll do my duty, and in return, I’ll gain the affluent position I crave from being a Bratva princess as well as married to a prominent Vendetti. I won’t just be important to the underground crime world; I’ll practically be untouchable. A Vendetti Goddess.

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