Page 20 of Mafia and Protector

They would analyze every look that had passed between Rafael and myself today, and the most bitter of the women would be wondering how awful my husband would be to me tonight, of course couched in words of feigned concern.

As we passed Emanuel, I tried to shut my ears, but it was impossible to avoid hearing him. “What I wouldn’t do to have the delight of a fresh virgin tonight!” he declared loudly to his fellow men.

He was mocking me—he’d already taken me when I was a virgin. I felt a crimson tide rush up my cheeks and the prickle of tears at the back of my eyes.

But I couldn’t cry, not in front of everyone, and definitely not in front of any Santino.

Rafael continued leading me out of the room. Just a few minutes longer, just a few more minutes, then I’d be away from the Emanuel, I told myself.

We were spending the night in the honeymoon suite of the hotel, and as the elevator whisked us upstairs, I was thankful that the jeers of the Capo and the other men were shut off from me now.

I didn’t know how I was going to cope with Emanuel being my father-in-law, but right now I had to focus on getting through my wedding night.

When we reached our room, Rafael used the key card to open the door. The beep of the door unlocking seemed to echo in the hallway, making me shudder. The honeymoon suite was on its own private floor—there would be no one to help me tonight if I cried out for help.

Rafael held the door open for me, gesturing with his hand for me to enter first, and I felt myself shiver as I had to brush past him on my way in.

Once inside, I stood awkwardly in the middle of the large room, not knowing what to do next. The bedsheets taunted me with their dazzling white and pureness.

I knew that in line with the Sicilian tradition ofcunzata del letto, the bed would have been prepared earlier by four unmarried girls because the wedding night bedlinen could only be touched by females who were virgins. They would have made up the bed with the pure white, hand-embroidered sheets. They would also have sprinkled rice between the sheets as good luck for the new bride’s fertility.

I was supposed to consummate my marriage in this bed. But in the eyes of our traditions, I was not worthy of touching these sheets—because I was no longer a virgin. I was no longer pure.

Rafael took off his jacket and prowled toward me. I wished now that I wasn’t frozen in the middle of the room. I should have stood next to the table or chair; that way, I would have had something to hold on to, something to steady myself against and something to put between myself and my husband.

Rafael walked behind me and I panicked that I couldn’t see him or what he was about to do to me.

I tried to spin around to face him, but he stopped me by putting his hands firmly around the top of my arms—making me sharply inhale and forcing me to stay faced away from him.

“Easy,” he growled into my ear, the soft caress of his breath on my neck making me jump. “I’m just taking off your necklace for you,” he said as he undid the fastener.

I attempted to relax my muscles, but my sixth sense told my body not to relax—not to let my guard down around this man.

“As beautiful as this necklace is, I want to see you completely naked tonight.”

Those words made me spring away from him just as he removed the necklace.

I backed away from him and felt myself lose balance as my heel caught in the hem of my long dress.

His hands clasped around my arms as I stumbled, catching me and tugging me into proximity with his body again. Before I could do anything else, he turned me around in his arms, further disorientating me.

I felt his fingers fiddle with the zipper at the back of my dress. I clenched my sweaty palms, telling myself that there was still the fabric between him and me, still some time and some protection before I would be forced to give myself up to him.

My dress’s design meant that it dipped down to the middle of my back, and after he slowly undid the top part of the zipper, he let his finger stroke the sensitive skin there.

“No,” I said in a strangled cry, managing to whirl around so that I could see him.

“No?” He narrowed his dark blue eyes at me in warning and his cold tone reminded me of my duty tonight. I willed my frantic heart to stop thumping and took a deep breath.

I forced myself to say as calmly as possible, “I need to freshen up first.”

He regarded me for a few moments. He nodded toward the adjoining bathroom. “Why don’t you get ready for bed,” he said, his voice a command rather than a suggestion.

I fled to the bathroom, grateful that he hadn’t undressed me—and hoping that the rest of the night would be as straightforward.

I took off my wedding dress, the simple task taking twice as long as it should have due to the trembling in my hands.

After getting the dress off and tossing it to one side, I put on a new silk nightdress which my mother had chosen. I looked at myself in the large mirror above the vanity. It was flimsy and had narrow spaghetti straps to hold it up.