Page 77 of Angelo's Vengeance

“Here’s to Theo,” Ilias said, raising his glass. “Remember the time you took Nonna’s curtains and turned them into a dress? You’ve always had a vision, Thea. It just usually involved breaking things or stealing fabric from somewhere you shouldn’t.”

Everyone chuckles and glances over at us. “Really, curtains?” Remo asks.

“But look at you now. Gorgeous. Glowing. Married. To a man I once swore I’d strangle with my bare hands.” I looked askance at Ilias, who still had his glass raised and that serious expression on his face.

“Did he really swear he’d strangle you?” I asked Angelo in a stage whisper.

“Well, when we were like twelve,” he whispered back. “Pretty sure he got over it.” He kissed my shoulder. “Pretty sure.”

The audience was in rapt attention, particularly those we had invited who are ‘mafia-adjacent’. Most of the people here werefamiglia, but there were a few guests who had been invited due to other connections they had that were potentially useful. The wedding wasstill intimate, but some people couldn’t just be ignored.

“Don’t worry, Santelli. I’ve evolved. Now I’d use piano wire. I’m classy like that.”

Angelo smirked even though a lady next to me looked over nervously. Those who weren’t familiar with our situation might wonder if Ilias was serious, but it was hard to believe when Conall was snorting in his whiskey like he was.

“Seriously though…You two are disgustingly in love. Like, ‘burn the house down but call it foreplay’ kind of in love, it’s terrifying and inspiring. Mostly terrifying. And Angelo—credit where it’s due, man. You didn’t just show up. You stayed. You protected her, made her laugh, provided her with a dream space for her business, and managed to survive several dinners with our family without anyone getting hurt. That’s love. Or masochism. Either way—respect.” He raised his glass. “So here’s to Theo—my brilliant, feral sister, and to Angelo—who now belongs to her, body and soul, good luck with that. May your life be filled with beautiful things, good wine, and no FBI raids. And if thereareFBI raids, may your security footage always mysteriouslyglitch.” He grinned. “To chaos and couture. To murder and matrimony. To Theo and Angelo—may you always be each other’s favorite felony.”

Geez, my brother was going to make me cry with that speech. I raised my glass as Ilias polished off his glass. “Yamas!”

Later, Angelo pulled me aside while I was making the rounds. I’d swapped my heels for a pair of flip-flops. “You made this…” he looked around the garden, now glowing with fairy lights and candlelit shadows, “…a dream. A fairytale.”

“You gave me the space to make it. That’s love, right? Letting the other person be exactly who they are. Crazy and all.” When I asked people to come in costume, I wasn’t sure they’d deliver, but they did. We had a Cheshire Cat, a Mad Hatter, a White Rabbit, and even someone with a teapot mask. Anyone who knew me knew I loved a masquerade.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “And I love exactly who you are.”

We danced our first dance beneath the willow tree to a rendition of “A Forest” by The Cure. It was very us. Later, as the guestsdrifted off, I stole one last moment with Cora and Frankie, watching the lights flicker across the garden.

“You did it,” Frankie whispered. “You’re Mrs. Santelli now.”

I grinned, touching the wedding set on my finger. “I’m officially part of your family, which is somehow scarier.”

We all laughed, and behind me, Angelo waited—my future wrapped in a suit, bloodlines, and something tender neither of us ever expected.

Our wonderland was real. It had thorns, but that was the way I liked it.

Looking over at Angelo as he took off his jacket, the evening played out in my mind like a movie reel. It had been exactly as I imagined: absolute perfection, from Lev arriving with his Mad Hatter mask to the impromptu game of charades we played after most of the guests had left.

One of the things I loved most was the sense of family that being with Angelo gave me. I cherished every facet of our relationship.That feeling of being under the stars with his friends, laughing together amidst the remnants of costumes and scattered cheeseboards around us, was incredible. The love on everyone’s faces surrounded me so tightly that it almost burned. I gripped Angelo’s hand so hard that he turned, caught the look on my face, and told everyone to get out.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there,piccola? Naughty thoughts?”

He stripped off his shirt, exposing all those planes of muscles, making my mouth water. I hadn’t even moved, still parked on the edge of the bed in my gown, but I moved now, collapsing on my knees and fumbling with the front of his slacks.

“I like what you’re thinking, wife,” he growled as he rushed to help.

He was hard before my mouth closed around the tip, my tongue swirling over the smooth skin, tasting the saltiness that was distinctly his. My other hand gathered his balls and rolled them just the way he liked. I’d found that the savage edge he rode in the mafia world bled out into every part of his life. He could be gentle, but he liked a bite as well.

“Theo,” he groaned, as I ran my tongue along the slit at his tip. “That feels so good, baby.” He stared down at me his eyes dilated as I flattened my tongue and relaxed my throat to let him thrust deeper as I sucked.

He groaned as he thrust gently forward into the cavity of my mouth. He was thick and long which made sucking his cock challenging, but I’d adapted into a hand-job/sucking version that he seemed very fond of. I was working on my gag reflex, but he seemed to be more than satisfied with what was happening, so I wasn’t going to second-guess myself.

“That’s my dirty girl. Are you wet?”

Angelo knew me well. I was soaked through my thong, my thighs slick, but I didn’t want to touch myself. I knew I’d go off like a rocket. What I wanted was between my lips right now. He pulled out with a pop as if he could read my mind.

“That’s enough of that,piccola. I know where my come needs to be—no wasting it. I want it between your thighs. Deep inside you.” His current obsession seemed to be fixated on getting me pregnant, and I couldn’t say I minded at all. Either the idea or the activity. He picked me up and planted me onthe bed before shucking off his slacks. “Let’s get you up and out of that gown before I ruin it.”

Standing, I let him undo the clasps on the back of the dress until it fell onto the floor in a pool of fabric. “You’re so beautiful, wife. Up on the bed. Spread those thighs so I can see what’s mine,” he growled as he fisted his cock.

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