Page 6 of Kingpin

“So, what did you think?” my father asked.

“Of what?”

“Of Brianna.”

I shrugged. “That doesn’t really matter. The deal has been sealed either way.”

My father clapped my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son. You’re going to take this family further than I could have ever imagined.”

I nodded mindlessly. “I know.”

And as we turned onto the main road that headed back into town, I had to shift in my seat.

I had to keep my father from seeing the thick erection that woman had given me with nothing but her curves and those ruby-red lips.

3

Bonnie

I satwith my back straight on the stool as everyone moved around me in a blur. I stared at the mirror as I watched the makeup artist transform me from myself into my cousin.

I had no idea how in the world I’d replicate the look if I couldn't execute the plan before the next morning. If I played my cards right, I wouldn't have to worry about it. I had it all mapped out. In my mind, I knew how it would go.

I knew how Israel would die that night.

Ruby-red stain painted my lips, and my hair was, once again, piled high on top of my head. The same veil from two weeks before was placed at my crown, sparkling as the light hit the diamonds. I stood from the stool and let my aunt put my necklace around my neck. She slid dangling diamond earrings into my ears before fiddling with a dainty bracelet around my wrist.

Then, she moved around to my back.

“Here. Let me tighten this,” she said.

I sighed. “I can’t breathe as it is.”

She pulled the strings. “If you can still breathe, it’s not tight enough.”

I gasped as the corseted dress pulled in even further. My waist was accented far more than I could have ever imagined, and I hated how it looked. Then again, it wasn’t about me. Or for me, for that matter. All of it was a parade for Israel. One last hoopla before he succumbed to our plan.

A plan that still made my stomach turn over on itself.

My aunt took my hand, and I slipped into my white heels. Then, my assigned bridesmaids escorted me down the stairs to the massive chapel double doors. The church had seen every Rossi wedding since their family first established themselves in America. And it would see the marriage that ended in the head of their family’s demise, too.

The last thing I remembered was the traditional Italian wedding march playing before the doors were thrown open.

It was like my mind didn’t kick back into gear until after the reception.

I felt the comb being removed from my hair, and it snapped me out of my trance. My eyes fluttered upward, taking in Israel’s twinkling gray ones. They reminded me of the sturdy steel bars that held up many of my uncle’s manufacturing plants. He set the veil softly off to the side, and the action took me by surprise. He seemed like such a brute. I expected him to rip me out of my dress and talk me out of the traditional ceremony altogether.

Instead, he took his time.

His movements were soft, and they shocked me with each touch.

With the vial of poison tucked inside my stark white wedding bra, Israel studied my face. He then moved behind me, his fingertips fiddling with the bow at the small of my back. I felt my dress loosening before it fell to the floor, exposing my naked body. I drew in a deep, silent breath, thankful to finally be out of that torturous thing.

Then, I felt his hands against my waist.

He didn’t grip me hard or shove me down. He merely held them there, as if he were drawing in the feel of my skin. His hands were soft. They made my eyes fall closed. I swallowed down a moan creeping up the back of my throat right before he pressed himself against my back. My head fell back against his chest. I felt the strength of his lean body pulsing against me. In another life, I would have enjoyed it. I would have enjoyed such a man wanting to make me his.

But it wasn’t another life.

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