Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Money is power, after all.
Alexis is last and, of course, always the showman, dipping her low with his usual flair, pressing a kiss to her lips like something out of a black-and-white film. When he pulls her upright, she’s flushed and radiant, glowing with happiness. So perfect that my throat burns with unshed emotion.
I swallow it down. No one will ever see this mob boss cry.
Except maybe Aemelia, later, when we’re alone, and I show her how much it means that she has chosen to walk beside us, to lay by our sides, to be ours in every way that matters.
***
The ballroom is as breathtaking as it was for Rosita’s wedding, with chandeliers casting golden light over the polished marble floor, flowers tumbling over crystal vases, and candles flickering romantically. Except, rather than my sister gliding around the dance floor in the arms of her husband, it’s Aemelia dancing with Alexis, her hair spilled loose and lightly curled down her back, the sleeves of her dress removed to reveal thin straps that show off her radiant olive skin.
Her face is alight with happiness, her body moving seductively, and Alexis is enraptured as he guides her, taking his turn for a first dance. The band plays a soft, romantic melody meant to slow the heart and heighten the moment. Alexis twirls her, dipping her low before drawing her back against his chest, his lips grazing her temple in a gesture that’s both possessive and reverent. She laughs, like the soft chime of silver, her eyes glimmering in the golden glow.
I sip from a tumbler of aged whiskey, letting the burn settle deep in my chest as I watch my wife move between my brothers, my heart clenched in something primal and reverent. Aemelia Venturi. She’s no longer our captive. She’s no longer a pawn. She is our queen, our most treasured possession, mine to protect until my dying breath.
“She’s beautiful,” Mama murmurs beside me, placing a weathered hand on my forearm. I glance at her, noting the soft smile on her lips and the approval in her deep-set eyes. I place my hand over hers, engulfing it.
“She is,” I agree, my voice thick with pride.
“And she’s yours,” she adds, squeezing my arm gently. “This responsibility you’ve taken is not just a game, Luca. She’s your family now. Our family. She carries the Venturi name. She will birth the Venturi legacy.”
I catch sight of Mama’s wedding band, which is still wedged tightly onto her finger. Her marriage was the catalyst for our existence, and now, our marriage will bring more children to the bloodline—the never-ending cycle of life. “I know, Mama. She’s safe with us.”
“It is not just about safety,” she says, her gaze sharp, knowing. “A woman like that needs more than protection. She needs devotion. She needs a home. You have given her your name, but now you must give her a life. A future.”
A future. I sip my drink, letting the weight of her words settle over me. My world has revolved around vengeance, blood, and duty for so long. But now, I have something beyond that. Aemelia is my future, our future. She is the reason I will wake up every morning with a purpose beyond the family business.
“You’re taking her away?” she asks, though she already knows the answer.
“Tonight. We leave for the Maldives after the reception. I want her to have the honeymoon she deserves.”
My mother smiles approvingly, lifting her glass to her lips. “Good. A woman should know luxury. She should know what it means to be adored.”
Adored. The word perfectly fits with how I feel about Aemelia.
I turn my attention back to my wife just in time to see Antonio take her from Alexis, his hand settling on the small of her back as he leads her into a slower dance. He presses his forehead to hers, whispering something that makes her blush and smile, her fingers curling into the lapel of his tuxedo.
A flicker of possessiveness rolls through me, but it is quickly replaced by satisfaction. We’re not like other men in our world. We don’t fight over our woman. We share, we protect, and we love. Together.
The night continues in a blur of laughter, wine, and celebration. Aemelia never leaves my sight, moving between me and my brothers and greeting our guests with the grace of a queen. When the time comes to cut the cake, she looks up at me with eyes so full of light that I think I could drown in them.
“You ready to leave after this?” I murmur against her ear as we make the final rounds of the evening.
She nods, her fingers tightening around mine. “Yes. Take me away from here, Luca.”
Minutes later, we slip out, escorted by our men through the back entrance of the grand estate. A sleek black car waits for us, its driver already at attention. Antonio and Alexis climb in behind us, their hands resting protectively on Aemelia’s knees as she leans into me, exhaustion and excitement warring in her eyes.