“That’s quite enough, Bianchi,” an angry voice snaps.
Chapter Nine
MASSIMO
My fingers itch to take my gun out of my holster and pump six rounds into Tiziano Bianchi. I don’t give a fuck if he’s a prince on the verge of becoming a Boss or not.
I could give a goddamn.
He’s touching my wife. He’s dancing far too fucking close to her and the way he’s looking at her, I know that if he thought he could, he’d take a chance to be with her, to take her from me.
“Just dancing with the beautiful bride,” he says, holding his hands up.
“Yeah? I know what you asked Mia and Gavino to help you with. Stop sniffing,” I bark.
Tiziano snorts. “You have no clue, Massimo.” He takes a step away from Pippa and my anger recedes a bit now that he’s no longer touching what’s mine.
“I don’t?” I ask.
He shakes his head once, his gaze flicking to Pippa before he brings it back to meet mine. “None.”
Without another word, he turns and walks away from us. Watching him go, I ball my hands into fists, inhaling a breath before I let it out in a long exhale. Turning to Pippa, I tilt my head to the side. Her eyes are on me, her expression blank and completely unreadable.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Her lips twitch in a small smile. “I am. Should I be worried about him?” she asks.
Shaking my head once, I hold my hand out for her. Without hesitating, she slips her palm into mine. Tugging her against my chest, I dance with my wife.
Wife.
I’m still in awe that she is mine.
All mine.
I don’t have to watch her from afar, I don’t have to share her time with another fucking soul, she is one hundred percent mine and nobody else’s.
“Should I be worried about him?” Pippa asks after a few beats of the music.
Dipping my chin, I grin down at her. “Not at all. I got you, dolcezza.”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything else. I’m glad. The first dance we had, we were unable to enjoy one another. This one is not under an audience. This is just us. Sure, there are people around, but it’s nothing like it was earlier tonight.
“What are you scared of?” I chance asking her.
“What do you mean?”
My lips twitch into a small grin and my eyes search hers. “In general, tonight, whatever. I want to get to know you better. I only have had one conversation with you in three years,” I say.
She nods her head once. She clears her throat, her eyes search mine as we sway from side to side. “Anything?” she asks on a whisper.
Lowering my head, I press my cheek against her temple. “Anything, la mia sposa.”
“I’m terrified to be a typical mafia wife. Turning a blind eye to a man who fucks other women behind her back because she wants his money.”
The words she says makes me feel sick. She’s describing my father, my father and my mother. She doesn’t stop there though.
“I don’t want to be an accessory to him. Seen, but never heard. Something that he just tolerates until he leaves my bed for another. Happy to have money to buy my happiness.”
“Pippa,” I begin.
She pulls back slightly, shaking her head. “Just make me one promise,” she demands.
Though her voice is so soft and sweet, it doesn’t feel like a demand. I drop my chin, letting out a small grunt, urging her to continue.
“If my sister ever needs anywhere to go. If she’s ever kicked out by my aunt, or just needs to get away from her. Please tell me that she can come to us.”
I’m a bit surprised by her demand. Surprised, but fucking happy that it is what it is. Love. Pippa loves her sister. She wants to protect her, care for her, and she thinks that I can help with that. She wants me to help.
“Absolutely, dolcezza. Our doors are always open for Rosana. Whatever she needs from me, from us, she has it.”
Pippa’s eyes water, and I watch as a few wet tears roll down her cheeks. Lifting one of my hands, I use the back of my fingers to wipe the wetness away.
“Thank you,” she rasps.
Dropping my forehead to hers, I close my eyes as I continue dancing with my new bride. “Whatever you need from me, Pippa, you have. As long as I can give it to you, you have it, dolcezza.”
“Thank you, Massimo. You have everything from me,” she breathes.
I almost tell her that I know, but I don’t. Pulling her a bit closer, I hold her against me, shifting my head so that my cheek is against her temple again. I let out a breath as I spin her around the dance floor slowly, enjoying every minute of this moment with her.
“Everything will be okay, Pippa.”
I want the words to be the truth, but this is one thing that I’m saying without certainty. I honestly don’t know if everything will be okay, but fuck me, I want it to be. For her, and selfishly for me.
PIPPA
Honestly, I wasn’t sure that this night would get here or that it would ever end. But it has. The limo pulls up to a hotel and I’m surprised, assuming that we would go straight to Massimo’s home after the reception. The driver stops, then opens the door for us. Massimo climbs out first, then helps me.
“We’re staying here for the weekend. I know that we aren’t having a honeymoon yet, and I’m sorry about that, but I thought one weekend before real life set in would be better than nothing?”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I’ve never stayed in a hotel before, never had the need. I’ve only lived with my parents, then with Irene. I spent the night at friends’ houses here and there over the years, but I’ve never been outside of the state of New York, and never gone far enough to stay in a hotel.
Massimo takes my hand in his, he leads the way as we walk through the hotel doors. Looking around, I see the name, The William Vale, plastered everywhere and I assume that’s where we are.
Kind of a weird name for a hotel, but I just shrug it off and keep walking until we reach the front desk.
“Checking in,” Massimo says before he clears his throat.
The man behind the desk nods his head once. “Name please,” he calls out.
“Massimo Ferrucci.”
The man behind the desk lifts his gaze, his eyes wide as he gulps. “Sir, thank you for checking into The William Vale, your room is ready and your luggage has already been taken inside and unpacked. The items you requested are waiting for you. Is there anything else that I can do for you this evening?”
I blink, shocked at the service. He didn’t even look at his computer and he knew exactly who Massimo was by name. I wonder if all hotels are like this, if they are, I hope that these employees get paid plenty for their great service.
“No, my bride and I are ready to retire for the evening,” Massimo says, his voice sounding as bored as can be.
The man nods then reaches across the desk and hands a small piece of folded paper to Massimo.
“You’ll be staying in the Vale Garden Residence. Please call down to me if you desire or require anything this evening.”
Massimo doesn’t say anything, he takes the folded paper, then turns on his heels and with my hand in his, begins to walk. Turning my head, I smile at the man.