Page 25 of Dark Mafia Heir

Antonio releases me and thrust his fingers full of my juices into my mouth. I lick myself off him desperately, wanting to feel more of what he has to offer.

But he doesn’t give me more. He smiles cruelly. “Choose a dress,gattina. We’re getting married tomorrow, and I won’t ask again.”

He slides his fingers out from my mouth and starts to walk away.

I glide down the wall, and a wave of shame washes over me. Shame that I’d given in so easily to this man who I hate, and I enjoyed every bit of it.

10

Antonio

“It’s not too late to call the wedding off,” Dario says, his brows knitted with concern. “She’s Peter Cole’s daughter. She could end up betraying you.”

My lips curl with a smile. “It’s my wedding evening, Dario. Of course, it is too late to call off the wedding,” I muse. “Besides, I’ll need to trust her for her to betray me. She’s a prisoner here, nothing more.”

There’s a moment of silence in the room as I dress my suit in front of the tall mirror in my closet. When I turn around, I notice that all of them have their eyes on me and their brows raised.

“Is that what you tell yourself? That she is nothing more than a prisoner to you?” Dario asks, still wearing the same confused expression on his face. “No man marries a woman just because she is his prisoner, Nio. You like her.”

I spin around to face him with a frown. I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me. “Careful, brother. Dante is dead because of her father. It will be a snowy day in hell before I fall in love with that girl.”

“You sound like you’re in denial. Does Mariana know about this?”

I start to fix my cufflinks—Dante bought me those cufflinks on my thirty-sixth birthday. They’re silver, and the first letter of my name is carved in italics right in the middle.

I’d never worn them because they’re not my style, but now I regret that he never got the chance to see me wear them. It’s my way of carrying him with me—my way of letting him know his death was not in vain because I’ll be sending his killers to hell soon.

“Mariana knows.” I couldn’t risk her hearing about it from someone else. Despite her grief, I knew she’d try to stop me, so I only sent her a text.

“And she’s okay with this?” Dario asks, his brows furrowing with confusion.

“I don’t know if she is, and it won’t matter if she isn’t.”

Dario opens his mouth to argue, but I raise my hand to mark the end of the conversation. My revenge starts tonight, and I don’t want to waste any more of my energy arguing over something irrelevant.

There’s a knock on the door before it’s pushed open, and Luca saunters inside. “The priest is waiting, boss,” he says.

“And my bride?” I ask.

“She’s waiting, too. You have to be at the altar first,” Luca tells me.

I nod, my lips curling with a smile as I imagine my bride in one of the wedding gowns I picked out for her. I’d also booked a hairstylist and a makeup artist. What is a wedding if she doesn’t look perfect?

Turning to Dario, my brow quirks. “Are you coming, or will you stand there and nag me about my choices?”

He sighs. “Let’s go. Ginny’s waiting, too.”

I narrow my eyes on him, surprised that he would bring his wife along despite the occasion. “Ginny?”

“Yeah. I told her about it and she insisted,” he answers, looking a bit disappointed himself that she is here.

“Looks like I have a lot of women who’ll try to kill me on my wedding day,” I muse.

Dario shakes his head with pity. “Just in case any of them confronts you, I advised you not to do this.”

I chuckle and part his shoulder. “You advised me to do this.”

His grumbling follows me as I leave the room and start down the stairs leading to the patio, and then his footsteps follow.

---