Ruined in Vows (Marchetti Family #3)

7. Allegra

Chapter 7

Allegra

R eaching the bottom of the stairs, I come to a stop in front of my brother.

His face is blank, cool indifference. But it’s a mask, one he wears well. Unfortunately for my brother, I know him well enough to witness the rage simmering in his eyes. He is not happy about tonight. And neither am I but it’s a request. One we cannot ignore.

Riccardo all but demanded - via my brother of course - that I join him for dinner, at a popular restaurant in the city that is in neutral territory. He insisted that it's simply a date so that he can get to know me better before we marry. It’s bullshit of course. Nico said that it's Riccardo’s way of showcasing his power and control when it comes to me. He is laying the groundwork, setting the standard for what's to come.

Of course, Nico wouldn't let me go alone and Riccardo would never expect it. In our world, it’s improper. Yes, my brother is more lenient than my papà ever was, but he is not about to let me have a meal with Riccardo Romano unchaperoned. Though he will be at another table, along with several guards, I will never be out of his line of sight, should anything... nefarious arise.

“Come on. Let's get this over with,” he grumbles.

I chuckle. “Why are you so mad? You knew Riccardo would expect dinners. He said as much in our meeting.”

“I can’t stand the asshole. And if I had my way, you would be nowhere near him.” Nico eyes me before starting for the front door. “Plus, Ocean is feeling sick. I hate having to leave her.” He pulls the door open, revealing the four guards that will accompany us.

I stop in my tracks, guilt hitting me like a freight train. Nico should be here with his wife, not chaperoning me. “Stay, Nic. I will be okay with the guards.”

Nico glances back at me, shaking his head. “No way. I am coming with you. I don’t trust that fucker to not pull some shit.”

Knowing full well I won’t win this argument, I sigh, sauntering to the door. “You have to cut the umbilical cord at some point. You do know you are not allowed to move into Riccardo’s penthouse when we are married. Right?” I half tease.

He glares at me. “Trust me, if I never had to hear the word married in the same sentence as you and Riccardo Romano again, I would die a happy man. You know how I feel about this whole situation. And I don't care what you say, I am still looking into other avenues to get you out of this arrangement.”

We stride down the front steps, rounding the side of the house to the garden and the helipad, the guards hot on our heels. “You need proof of his involvement with the Bratva so the commission will back you. I can get that by marrying him,” I argue, feeling like we are going around in circles with this conversation.

“What makes you so sure? Riccardo is smart. If he has been working with the Russians, then he has covered his tracks so far and done that well. I doubt he is suddenly going to get sloppy just because he is married.” His tone is pure condescension.

Anger surges inside me. Clearly my brother doesn't think that I am capable of doing this. He wouldn't question it otherwise. I know he is concerned, and he has every right to be, but he must trust that I am strong enough to do what is needed. Dante made me strong. He knew the life that was expected of me and taught me from a young age to defend myself. Nico doesn't know that, but still, he should have faith in me. I am a Marchetti after all.

“Trust me, brother. A man is sure to slip up when his attention is focused elsewhere. And something tells me that when Riccardo has his ring on my finger his focus will be on tormenting me,” I shout over the noise of the helicopter.

“That’s what I'm afraid of,” Nico mutters under his breath as we climb inside and get settled in our seats.

His words are ominous but still they don't phase me.

Because I am already living in purgatory.

“You are exquisite,” Riccardo murmurs as he watches me intently across the table. The statement should flatter me but the malicious gleam in his eyes unnerves me. It's all an act. That much I have determined in the thirty minutes I have been here. He is trying to put me at ease, make me comfortable, only to pull the rug out from under me later. I won't fall for his bullshit or fake words. I can give an Oscar worthy performance just as much as he can.

Plastering on a fake smile, I respond coyly, “Thank you, Riccardo. You are too kind.”

His devilish dark eyes narrow in on me, something passing across his features that I can't quite decipher.

Leaning casually back in his chair, his lips tip up in a cruel smirk, the mask slipping and the real Riccardo coming out to play. “I can’t wait to fuck what I am sure is a beautiful pussy. I hope you are preparing for our wedding night.” I stiffen as he licks his lips, his gaze shifting over the parts of me he can see and leaving a burn in their wake. “Birth control is a must. I won't have anything between us. When I break through your virgin cunt, I want your innocence smeared all over my cock,” he remarks crudely, his eyes flickering to my brother. Clearly, he is making sure Nico isn't overhearing the disgusting things he is saying to me.

Bile rises in my throat, threatening to boil over, but I push it down. I need to stay calm, and not react, which I am sure is what he wants. I pushed to go ahead with this arrangement. I need to follow it through. I'm not naive. I know I will have to sleep with him. That doesn't mean I have to like it.

“I’m already on birth control. So you don’t need to worry about that,” I assure him, though I think it was the wrong thing to say.

His head cocks to the side, anger flashing across his face. “That better not be because you gave someone else what is mine,” he hisses accusingly, only for me to hear. I don’t dare look at Nico. Though I have my features schooled he knows me well enough to know that whatever is going on over here is not good. He will jump in if I give him even a hint of my distress.

“I can guarantee you, Riccardo, that I am very much still a virgin.” Grabbing my glass of water, I take a big sip, cursing myself for even indulging this conversation.

He relaxes some, leaning back in his chair. A look of triumph, like he just won a big prize, flickers in his eyes. I hate it. Hate that I never gave Dante what is rightfully his and what this man will forcefully take. I feel sick at the thought. But still, it's not enough to make me back out.

“Good. I hear you are going to Miami for your bachelorette party?”

Relaxing at the change in conversation, I nod. “Yes. With my mamma, Ocean, and best friend Athena.”

“Very good. I can trust you to stay away from any men.” Though it sounds like a question, it is very much a demand.

“Of course,” I smile like the perfect docile little doll.

He grins, looking devilish. “You will be the perfect little wife to train, Allegra. I can't wait to break you in, in all ways. Now let's eat up. I have somewhere else I need to be.” He pauses, smirking. “Or let's say, someone else that needs my attention.”

My nose wrinkles at the insinuation. Without really saying it, he just told me that he is going off to fuck another woman. That’s fine by me. I don’t care if he has one hundred mistresses. While he is keeping busy with them, he is staying away from me.

Smiling, I roll some noodles around my fork and bring them to my mouth without giving him an answer.

He doesn't need one.

And quite frankly, I have had enough of his voice.

So, I do what I do best.

Retreat into happier times.

Pulling myself out of the pool, I make my way to the loungers to grab my towel so that I can dry off. It’s a sunny, hot day in The Hamptons, and I’m making the most of it.

A whistle sounds, making me stop in my tracks. Glancing over my shoulder, I spot one of my papà’s guards – who is clearly stupid or has a death wish - licking his lips as his gaze trails all over my body. It makes my skin crawl. There is only one man I want to look at me like that and it's certainly not him.

Turning to face him, I open my mouth, ready to give him a piece of my mind. Honestly, it’s better I tell him off rather than my papà ever witnessing this. He would take his eyeballs if he ever saw him looking at me like he currently is. But before I can shout my disgust, an angry, deep and possessive voice booms across the backyard.

“You have exactly one second to take your fucking eyes off her before I put a bullet in your head,” Dante growls, striding toward him with his gun aimed directly at his skull.

The guard pales, his body trembling. My breath hitches in my throat. As much as the guard deserves to be punished, I don’t want him to die. Without thinking, I run after Dante. Grabbing at his shirt, my panicked words rush out of me, “Please don’t kill him. I’m sure he meant no harm.” He most likely did, but I’m not about to fuel Dante’s fire.

Coming to a stop, he spins around to face me, his eyes widening when he sees my state of undress. His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together. “Go and get some fucking clothes on,” he orders.

I roll my eyes. “I was just in the process of doing that.” My hands land on my hips. “And anyway, I was taking care of it. I don’t need you to be my hero.”

He glares down at me. “I will always fucking protect you, principessa. Now go and get dressed before I murder that fucker.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but still, I have the urge to push his buttons.

“It’s a hot day. I was swimming. And you know what? I might swim some more. You are not my papà.”

His gaze narrows. My breath hitches when he leans into me, his hot breath tickling my ear. “No, I’m not. But you will listen to me, if you don’t want his blood on your hands. Now go and get dressed.”

My mouth opens with my retort, but I clamp it shut when my papà’s voice rings out. “Allegra.”

Dante stiffens, taking a step back from me. I hate it but understand why. Papà will kill any man that gets too close. And even though I want Dante with my whole being, I know how this world works. A fiancé of my papà’s choosing is my future. Nonetheless, I am going to fight for this man in front of me and hopefully make Papà see that Dante is perfect for me.

But until then, we have to be careful.

Spinning around, I take a step toward the house, stopping when Dante speaks.

“I don’t like other men’s eyes on you.”

My breath hitches in my throat.

What does that mean?

Before I can ask him, he strides past me, snatching up the towel and throwing it at me.

“Now cover the fuck up.”