Keeping his bride

Luca

I

‘M IMPATIENTLY WAITING for my bride to arrive at my new home…or I guess our new home. My father gave me a mansion as a wedding present, saying that my bachelor pad was too small for a family. Even thinking about having children with a Moretti makes my blood turn cold. I don’t know why my father would even suggest such a heinous thing.

He’s taking this marriage contract way too seriously, and it’s starting to piss me off.

I hated moving from the city to a rural town in New Jersey, but we’re not that far from NYC. Only about forty minutes or so. Besides, it’s not like there are houses with properties of this size available in the city. The sacrifice will make it all worth it in the end. I can create a nice, secure compound here on the acres of land my father purchased.

Along with the new home, I had to hire on a housekeeper and some kitchen staff last minute, so the skeleton crew will have to suffice until I can hire on more people to take care of this huge place.

I stare around the foyer, which is probably bigger than most people’s apartments alone. The crystal chandelier screams decadence upon entry, even though the rest of the house does that entirely on its own.

I’ve only been living here for a week, but the place feels strange, cold…and lonely. And I’m sure Verona’s presence won’t fix any of that. I already have her bedroom picked out. It’s down the hall from mine only because I didn’t have a choice. It’s the only other room in the same wing with the master bedroom. The other wing is allocated for the staff’s living quarters since I’ll need full-time staffing to keep up with this massive home and property.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

If I had it my way, Verona wouldn’t even be under the same roof as me. But some things are beyond my control. The contract clearly stated that we must live together, and so I must abide by the rules…for now.

Benito enters through the front door, drawing my attention to him. He was busy arranging my cars and security’s vehicles in the attached ten-car garage.

Benito is my first-in-command and my most trusted and, well, only friend. We grew up together. His family is mafia as well, but a different kind of mafia – the kind that kills and cleans up messes. Benito has killed more people than I could ever count, and I’m not sure if even he knows the exact number.

“She’s not here yet?” Benito asks.

I shrug in response. “Her father said she needed to get her things from his house.”

“Must be a lot of stuff,” he comments.

“Spoiled little princess,” I scoff, disgusted.

An alert sounds on his phone, and he’s quick to check it. “They’re here.”

“You already installed the motion detectors?” I ask, impressed.

“Yes, of course. That’s the first thing I did, along with the security cameras, when your father bought the property. Well, that and swept the entire place for bugs.”

He glances at me. “It’s clean, by the way.” “Good to know,” I say with a nod.

The front door opens, and Verona stands there with a man I recognize as Dante. I remember when we were kids, Dante and Verona were as thick as thieves. It took me a while to win over Verona’s attention, but I did time and time again to Dante’s dismay. He was in love with her back then. Probably still is.

My eyes narrow as he meets my gaze. He carries in a battered, brown leather suitcase behind Verona, and I stare at it. “Do you need Benito to help you with the rest of the luggage?” I ask him.

Dante cocks a brow at my question. “What other luggage?”

I look to my new bride. She’s no longer in her white wedding gown. Instead, she’s dressed casually with a pair of leggings and a large, oversized sweater, leaving everything to the imagination, unfortunately. “This is all the luggage you have?” I ask her incredulously.

She nods, suddenly looking shy and nervous.

Grabbing the suitcase from Dante, I flick open the lock and dump the contents on the floor. I glance at the pile of clothing and frown. Looks like I’ll have to do some online shopping after we’re done here.

“What are you doing?” Verona exclaims, desperately trying to refill her suitcase of her personal belongings… which isn’t much.

“Vitales have a reputation to uphold, and I won’t have my wife looking like a homeless person in rags.”

She glares at me from on her knees on the floor, and I like the idea of her kneeling before me. Maybe if there weren’t people here, I would make my new bride take my cock into her mouth and show her husband some respect.

“They are not rags!” she yells, breaking me out of my dirty thoughts.

I watch as she repacks her suitcase and locks it back up before standing and ruining my fantasy of her kneeling to service me.

“I’ll order you new clothes,” I tell her. “Benito will show you to your room.” Then, I turn my back on her to head to my new office.

“What about Dante’s room?” she asks, causing me to turn back around quickly. “Dante is staying here, as my bodyguard,” she informs me.

“The fuck he is,” I hiss. I stare at the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed man that I once knew as a boy. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“I’m making it part of the deal,” she says, jutting her chin out and up like she’s suddenly royalty in this house with a say in what goes and what doesn’t.

A dark chuckle releases from my mouth. “I won’t accept any kind of deal from a Moretti,” I tell her. “You’re staying.

He’s going.”

“No.”

“No?” I test her.

“If he goes, then I go,” she says so stubbornly that I want to take her over my knee and beat the defiance out of her in that moment.

And just the thought of her bent over my knee has my cock jumping in my pants. I wonder what kind of panties she’s wearing under all those clothes? I wonder if she’s wearing innocent, white, cotton underwear…or a black, lacy thong that emphasizes her ass cheeks. Fuck, I want to find out.

“Do you have a bodyguard here for me?” she questions, effectively ruining my filthy musings.

“Not yet,” I answer. Honestly, the thought of protecting her hasn’t even crossed my mind, but she is right – she is my wife now, and protection is a must. Although, if anyone would take her from me, I wouldn’t give them a cent in return. They could keep her, for all I care. She would be out of my hair and the marriage contract would still be valid since it was something beyond my control.

“Then it’s settled,” she says. “Dante is staying.”

I walk over to her and stare her down. She’s so petite, especially without heels on now. At the church, she was a few inches taller, but now I tower over her little frame.

“He can stay until proper protection is hired,” I concede through gritted teeth.

A smile graces her pouty lips, and I hate to admit that I like seeing it on her pretty face. Turning and walking away from them before I do something stupid like smile back or try to kiss those bee-stung lips, I throw over my shoulder,

“Benito will show you both to your rooms.”