Page 28 of Promised at Birth

“Don’t forget that.” I threaten.

I see Gwen visibly deflate. I hurt her feelings. I went too far. I let her pull away from me. I slip my arm around her waist. We head back to the reception. She is my wife. I am capo. I do not care about her feelings. I only care about appearances. I lied when I told her I didn’t want her. I do. I want to fuck her out of my system.

Gwen

Bobby does not have feelings. He is empty. He made it clear he does not want me. I am not his type. I am hurt. I have feelings for him.

Mafia men believe love is a weakness. Women are for sex. Not love. Not affection. I am just a trophy wife. After our marriage is consummated, he will ignore me. He will dress me up and haul me out to impress his family and business associates. This marriage is a sham. I am a thing. A possession. If I fall in love with him, he won’t love me back. He won’t be faithful either. I feel a lump in my throat. I want to cry, but I swallow my feelings.

The reception winds down. I throw the bouquet. As Bobby and I walk arm in arm out the front door of the mansion, wedding guests throw rice.

I don’t speak to my new husband as we ride in the backseat of his black SUV to his downtown Chicago penthouse. He ignores me as well. He is busy looking at his cellphone.

The SUV pulls up in front of an expense high rise building in an exclusive neighborhood near downtown Chicago. I wonder what his penthouse looks like. My new home. At least it is walking distance from Chicago University. I plan on starting college in the Fall, whether my new husband approves or not.

Bobby holds out his hand for me after he climbs out of the SUV. I take his hand and walk behind him. The nighttime weather is warm and breezy. Bobby’s goon squad of four men get out of the black sedan that followed our SUV.

The six of us walk into the pearl grey marble and glass lobby of Bobby’s building. Very elegant. The doorman holds the door open for us. Nobody speaks as we ride in the elevator. The elevator has a glass door and mirrored walls. The elevator stops on the top floor – the penthouse.

The elevator opens. One door is at the end of a short marble hall. One of Bobby’s men enter a code on the pad next to the door. The penthouse door opens. The four men check the penthouse to make sure it is safe. I stand in my wedding gown. I don’t know what to do.

“All clear, Bobby.” One of the goons announces.

“I will take it from here. Just stay out here for the night. I won’t be needing you.” Bobby commands.

They all nod. They do not look at me.

I am about to walk into the penthouse. Bobby stops me. He sweeps me up in his arms. He feels warm. I forget myself. I want to run my hands through his hair and kiss him.Stop.Do not fall for him.

“It’s tradition that the groom carries his bride over the threshold.”

Bobby scoops me up in his arms. I look at his profile. He is gorgeous from every angle. He carries me over the threshold. I hear the door close behind us. Bobby sets me down. He gives me a tour.

Bobby’s penthouse is stunning. Huge. Two stories. Black iron spiral staircase. Modern. Open concept. Five bedrooms. Five bathrooms with heated floors, heated bathtubs, and remote-controlled showers. Separate laundry room. Wide plank natural wood floors. Blue tooth speakers in every room. Gas fireplaces. Outdoor patio. Expensive artwork and paintings. Grey walls with white wood trim. Floor to ceiling glass windows with remote controlled shades. Breathtaking views of Chicago and Lake Michigan. A massive Chef’s kitchen.

I had been expecting a gloomy man cave with black leather furniture. I am pleasantly surprised. The penthouse is bright and cheerful. Spacious. I am impressed. The penthouse looks like it belongs in an architectural magazine.

The living room is furnished with white leather sofas, grey leather accent chairs, and a Calacatta marble coffee table with matching end tables. Calacatta is the most expensive marble available and is only available from one quarry in the world, located in Carrara, Italy; production is limited and controlled.

A man waits in the living room, sitting on one of the white leather sofas. Bobby introduces me. His name is Roman. He is my personal bodyguard. He is staying with Bobby’s bodyguards in a condo a floor below the penthouse. None of our bodyguards live with us. They take turns standing guard outside our door. They are always available to accompany us wherever we go. Since the Vincenzio family has many enemies, I am not allowed to leave the penthouse without a bodyguard.

The Chef’s kitchen is beautiful. Modern black steel state of the art appliances. Long white marble counters with an island and stools for dining. There is a woman in the kitchen cleaning up. Bobby introduces us. Her name is Marie. He kisses her on the cheek. Marie has been with the Vincenzio family for years. She cooks for Bobby during the week. Bobby tells me a cleaning service cleans once a week and can come more often if I prefer.

The Dining room has a long imported black wood table with matching chairs and China cabinet. Simply beautiful.

There is a small Den/TV room next to the kitchen with an oversized comfortable couch, iron and glass coffee table, a flat screen TV, and other electronics.

The second level has the master bedroom and four smaller rooms. Next to the master bedroom is an exercise room with a treadmill, exercise bike, Peloton bike, weight machine, free weights, and a flat screen TV. Bobby turned one of the four rooms into an elegant office with computer equipment. The two other smaller rooms are guest bedrooms.

Bobby picks me up again and carries me into the master bedroom. He sets me down on the California king-sized platform bed. The bedroom is white and grey. Gas fireplace. Two master bathrooms. Oversized walk-in closet. Sitting area with a white couch, matching loveseat, and metal and glass coffee. Floor to ceiling windows. Remote-controlled blinds. Spectacular view. Two crystal champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne chilling in a sterling silver ice bucket, are on the coffee table.

Bobby walks over to the walk-in closet.

“Come here.” He commands.

I slip off the bed and follow Bobby into the huge closet. One side holds several dozen designer men’s suits, shirts, and shoes.Wow! I thought my father had a lot of clothes!Built in drawers line every wall. One corner has a dressing area with full-length mirror.

Bobby takes off his tuxedo jacket. He undoes his bow tie. I gulp.

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