Unholy Matrimony (Unedited)

3

A.

"You're going to be late meeting your future wife if you don't leave now." Draco smirked, leaning over to gaze at my reaction to which I scoffed.

"You're hilarious." I reply dryly, pulling my eyes off my most trusted colleague and back to my task at hand. Beady black eyes look up at me, silently begging for mercy that would not be granted. Not in this lifetime.

"Anyways, you heard him. I gotta get going but I want you to know none of this would have happened if you remembered your place." He gasped as much as he could past the thick cloth stuffed down his throat. His body was mostly broken anyways, his hands on the floor beneath his feet. Discolored and starting to decay. 

The black gloves on my hands were already slick with blood, it was nothing to force his head back and slice my knife across his jugular. Watching the blood spray like a sprinkle.

Draco wrinkled his nose and stepped back out of the splash zone. "I'll get you a new suit, you'll have to hurry and wash the stench of death off you."

"I'll shower on the jet. Supposed to be going to the islands right?" The knife clatters onto the counter and my gloves squelch as I yank them off. Leading our exit out of the storage unit, ducking as I raise the door just enough to slip out. "Have Herc come clean this up."

"Already on his way, and yeah, the Dominican Republic. The Don of the Mafiso is trying to find someone to marry his daughter and take over the business. This was told to you over the phone when I told you about it and you accepted their invitation. Do you not hear a word I say?" Draco grunts, huffing as I give him a blank look.

"Not usually." I shrug as he rolls his eyes, muttering in Italian under his breath. "Well what do you know?" He smirks now, glancing at our driver before shrugging one shoulder.

'"Not much, they're not exactly like the Torrente's, their daughter is always in the media for one stunt or the next. Lets hope this is a good thing we know so little." Draco is hopeful, he himself being married, thinks love is the answer to all. His gold wedding band is scratch and blemish free but I've never seen it off his finger. He wore his ring proudly but his wife was shieled from this life completely, he was my right hand man and I'd never even so much as laid eyes on his wife.

I sighed deeply, this is why I was completely against the whole marriage thing. It was pointless and unnecessary, my parents were arranged and to this day my father claimed it saved his life.

But there was two things you never get too popular with in the type of business we deal with, the feds and the media.
Being in the media while dealing with the type of business we do, whether directly or through family is always a bad mix.

"Don't worry, arranged marriage does not mean forced." Draco's eyes were closed but he was talking as if he was looking directly at me.

"And you, was your marriage arranged?" Draco smirked, peeling his eyes open.

"I met my Angel the first year she left her family's estate for college." A soft look passed through him before he cleared his throat and visible pulled his walls back around around the topic of his wife.

I pondered for a moment, I have yet to see the woman he's married to, now I wonder if I've just been given her name.
"Angel Ricci?" I tease, finding his annoyance amusing. He frowned.

"I never said her name was angel, I said she was my angel. The chances of you meeting my wife are as close as there are of you taking a bullet for me." He scoffed. "Save the chit chat for your fiancé. You need to shower before we land." He withdrew from the conversation, pulling out his phone and I grunted, sighing as I pulled myself towards the bedroom of my jet.

Scrubbing my body raw as my thoughts travelled to the types of people I was about to encounter, part of me wishing I had listened to Draco when he was droning on, the bigger part of me was angry I had to do this at all.

My empire was powerful enough, I was powerful- I am powerful enough. If it hadn't been for my father rattling the wrong cages, ruffling the wrong feathers and tradition, I wouldn't be taking a wife.

A woman who just hung onto my arm and spent my money was the last thing I needed and fucking wanted. The thought of being have to made me frustrated.

"Oì! Hurry it up. We landed five minutes ago." Draco barked from the outside of the door, sighing wishing I had a drink I cut the water and silently reminding myself that this whole charade is tradition to my father and a facade to the families however- this was just business to me.

The estate reminded me of a resort, one people would spend half their lives savings just to afford one night stay. Except there were armed guards stalking the edge of the gated property.

"Don Bianchi! How was your flight in?" I was greeted by Brian's wife first, a shorter woman with a rounded face and blonde strands pulled into a tight bun that made her blue eyes appear even smaller than they were.
"Brian, honey!" She bellowed down a random hallways before turning back to me with a flushed face. Running her hands down her pale pink dress.

"Our flight was well, thank you Mrs. Sacozi." Draco offered her an easy smile when I didn't reply. The clicking of dress shoes echoed down the hallway she called from before Don Sacozi emerged.

A white man with light brown hair and striking blue eyes. I remember seeing him in meetings with my father when I was a child, the only tell to his age was the graying frays of hair.
"You don't have to shout Rene, I was already informed of the Dons arrival." He scowled at her before address Draco and myself.

"Welcome to the Dominican Republic Don Bianchi. I'm sure you're starving after such a long flight." I nod, shaking his hand. Small talk was never something I enjoyed entertaining so the swelling silence didn't bother me as much as it seemed to bother Rene.

"I'll go see what's keeping Selene." She shot us another uneasy smile before darting off up one side of their grand stair case.

"Come, the table should be set." Following Brian into the dinning room, I note the lack of family portraits, that are traditionally hung in a dons home.

The table is filled with a variety of foods, most I recognize as Italian cuisine. Stuff I'd eat on a regular at home, I glance at Draco who shrugs.
"I figured you'd prefer your usual cuisine, hired a personal chef straight from Sicily." Brian smirked, proud of his gesture. 

I nodded, not as impressed as he wanted me to be. Draco however was more than happy to offer praise.
"Smells amazing. Thank you." He shot me a look and I rolled my eyes.

I often forget that he's my right hand and business partner and not my mother. Then again we were raised by the same Sicilian woman so I'm not entirely surprised.

Brian took his seat at the head of the table while Draco and I sat to his right, my back to the wall and facing the entrance.

"Selene is very excited to start wedding planning." Brian suddenly perks up, clearing his throat.
"Money is no issue, and it's tradition for the brides father to pay."

I sighed through my nose, I think I hate dated traditions just as much as I hate liars and small talk.
My eyes found the entrance as a loud thump resonated before the sound of pattering feet, clicking of heels and a soft but stern voice scolding someone.

"Isaac, I've told you already stop jumping off the stairs."

I half expected Rene or even a nanny to come through the entry way.
Instead a ray of warmth glided into the room.
A white dress that looked like it was poured onto her with gold bracelets that sounded like bell chimes as she maneuvered the boy beside her, grasping his hand in hers as they entered the dining room.

The dress was white as untouched snow and draped off her bronze skin, but hugged her curved chest and the slopes of her hips. Auburn colored hair tied up in a soft bun on top of her head and the rest of her curls flowed freely down the arch of her back.

I glance at Draco who is already smirking at me, leaning over to mutter in my ear. "Traditions not seeming so awful, is it don?"