Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“Thank you. When you turn of age in a few years, I’m sure you’re going to have a nice wedding too,” Cressida said.
Greta only smiled at the jab. Cressida knew fucking well that Greta was of age. She’d had to learn the names and ages of the most important players in our world before marriage, and Greta was one of the most important even if she didn’t act like she was.
“Greta doesn’t need to marry to be a queen. Only by existing, she’s shining brighter than most ever will,” Remo said in a harsh voice.
Cressida dug her nails into my palm, obviously wanting me to say something, but Remo had only voiced what I’d thought.
“It’s a pity not all of you could make it,” I drawled, not bothering to hide my insincerity. Savio and his wife, Massimo, Nevio and Alessio, and the younger kids had stayed in Las Vegas. I’d desperately hoped Greta would have stayed there too, even if seeing her now was the highlight of this dark day.
With a last harsh smile, Remo turned and led his wife and daughter away. I focused on Adamo and his wife Dinara. I didn’t see Nino and Kiara anywhere, though they had been in church. Maybe Nino thought he needed to stop his brother from doing something stupid.
The Falcones disappeared early from the party. The atmosphere had been too strenuous to bear it much longer. Dad hadn’t declared war, not with two important drug deliveries on the way, and Remo hadn’t either—Greta’s influence no doubt.
Cressida and I excused ourselves not long after midnight. Cressida didn’t stop talking when I steered my car toward our new townhouse. I couldn’t believe that place would be the place Cressida and I would share. Maybe I’d come to tolerate her one day.
I led her into the house and motioned at the staircase. “Why don’t you go ahead? I need another drink.”
Cressida’s lips pinched but she stalked up the stairs covered in the fluffy white carpet that she’d picked. She’d picked the furniture for the entire place, which made it feel even less like home. I’d probably spend more time in my apartment than under a roof with Cressida. I glanced at my Rolex. I had another hour.
I poured myself a small glass of Bourbon before I made my way upstairs. When I stepped into the bedroom, Cressida was still in the bathroom. I went into our walk-in closet and got out of my wedding suit, throwing it over an armchair there before I grabbed a black shirt and black cargo pants.
“You have a new scar!” Cressida exclaimed as she sauntered in, wearing a sexy white negligee. Her hair was down and she was wearing heels.
I followed her gaze toward the stab wound that was still tender but no longer bandaged. Not saying anything, I pulled up my cargo pants. I hadn’t seen reason to reveal the events of Las Vegas with Cressida. Showing any kind of weakness in front of my wife seemed like a bad idea.
“What are you doing?” Cressida asked, confused.
“Getting dressed. I have business to attend to.”
Her eyes widened with incredulity. “It’s our wedding night!”
I put on the shirt and raised an eyebrow. “I never wanted this marriage. I told you what to expect if you married me. This is a marriage on paper. Don’t expect any emotional attachment.”
“We have to consummate our wedding. It’s tradition!” Her voice became increasingly shrill. I walked out into the hallway but she rushed after me.
“We consummated it in advance. That should do,” I said. I had absolutely no desire to touch her right now.
Down in the armory, I grabbed two gun holsters, and my favorite knives and guns. Cressida caught up with me. Her heels had obviously slowed her down. She scanned my attire. “Where are you going?”
“Business.”
“A husband should fuck his wife!”
“Maybe I’ll do it when I return in the morning.”
I grabbed my car keys and headed into the lobby. Cressida let out an enraged cry and one of her heels hit the mirror beside my head, making it splinter.
“You’re lucky I don’t have time for your bullshit right now,” I growled and left.
No virgin blood would be spilled today, only Falcone blood.
I put on pajamas but I couldn’t fall asleep. My thoughts revolved around Amo. He would be sharing his wedding night with Cressida now.
I had spent a week begging Dad to let me attend this wedding, arguing I needed to see Amo get married to close this chapter of my life. You needed to face your fears, that was what Dad always said, and it was something I had internalized too. Now I wasn’t so sure it had improved my emotional state. It definitely didn’t feel as if a chapter had been closed.
But maybe my presence had showed our goodwill to maintain peace, which felt so terribly fragile.