Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Thirteen

Niko

Last night, I slept on one of the armchairs in Luca's office, a blanket laid across my lap. I smoked a joint while looking out at the moon shining high above the rolling green hills that are our gardens.

I'm not usually one to follow traditions, but I wanted to allow Bianca to have time alone before today's shit show of a wedding.

I hung on her every fucking lie last night about the planning process of our wedding, she described something that meant something to her, and for a moment, I had lost myself in the lie that we were doing this because I had asked for her hand in marriage. But I hadn't. I have been forced to marry her to keep her quiet.

These last few weeks have been infuriating and enlightening. Sexually charged and equally depressing.

But I plan to enjoy the fake show I'm about to put on for every damn mafia king set to step foot inside Dimitri's home.

It is safe to say sleep succumbed to me only in the early hours of the morning, leaving me grumpy as fuck and hellbent on taking it out on Dimitri's staff. I arrive at his home early at seven am, three hours before men and women will start arriving. He's the first man I see on the property, eating granola and yoghurt in his kitchen, dressed in nothing but lounge pants and an open dressing gown that reveals his heavily scarred midriff that tells a thousand stories he keeps secret. He looks down at his stomach as my eyes stay glued on one scar, in particular, the scar my father's bullets left behind. He chuckles throatily, obviously remembering the same night as me, the night that changed everything. The day I became a groveller and one of Dimitri's disciples.

I almost growl at my disappointment at finding myself in his presence so early in the morning, but right at the last second, I realise that annoying the man who holds my life in his hands might not be the best way to start the day.

"Morning," I mumble at the beginning of said growl, changing the projection of my voice.

"You seem eager; it's three hours until the ceremony," he notes.

"I thought I best leave Biance to ready herself without the risk of seeing her before the aisle. I hear it's bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony," I shrug nonchalantly.

Do I really care about poor luck? Probably not.

"I'm glad to hear you're taking your marriage seriously, Nikolas."

"I'll be stuck with her for the rest of my life; we best start out on the right footing," I mumble.

"Yes, well, that's always a good start," he smiles at me, placing food in his mouth without looking down at his bowl. The silence that follows is deafening, sickening, in fact, but I hold my footing, standing at the counter that he opposes the other side of. He devours his breakfast as if nothing is transpiring between us, and I feel uncomfortably sick knowing this man holds the strings above my head in all matters of my life.

I haven't a clue why I begged for my father's life that night; it's not like he was ever a good parent or even a present one. But in the face of his death, watching Dimitri line his gun up with that man's skull, something boiled up and out of me to protect the man that genetically fathered me.

"I never planned to marry, but I guess it's got to be done properly," I project his way.

"Marriage is sacred, Nikolas. Whether we plan it or not, it is a promise that should always be upheld. Bianca will hopefully walk through the next fifty years of your life beside you. She'll be your equal. She'll be the mother of your children. The quicker the pair of you realise life means more when you hold onto the light of love, the better your life will be."

"You think that love will grace a man like me...A woman like her?" I laugh ironically; the delirious thought of happiness gracing me makes me chuckle.

"We can learn to love just as we learn to hate, Nikolas. You'll do good to remember that. But hate is always easier. Love requires more effort."

"That's good to know, Dimitri," I nod.

He doesn't take my lack of formality with his name too kindly, but he chooses to say nothing about my lack of using his title. Instead, he nods once and then moves around the counter to head for the door.

"Enjoy your wedding; it'll be the only one you get," he notes before leaving me.

"I'm sure it'll be my first divorce, too," I mutter under my breath.

The ceremony is happening in the outdoor permanent pavilion, which looks like a small house with no rooms. Today, there are rows and rows of seats side by side, with a gap between them, creating an aisle for Binanca to walk to me. It's at the end of that aisle where I stand, Luca beside me, as I greet every man and woman who smile reluctantly and greet me before taking their seat.

I'm dressed to the nines in a black tuxedo that pinches at every place I bend, and yet it's the smartest thing I've ever put on.

When Emma appears, dressed in a silver floor-length gown that hugs her every curve, I know my time as a single man is almost up. It's then I turn to Luca, producing the box from the jewellers that is worth more millions than I'd like to remember spending. I need his permission to use them, considering his father arranged separate rings.

"What's this?" he asks with curiosity. I know for a fact that his father gave him the heirlooms from his grandparents and great-grandparents just this morning.

"A replacement for your family's rings. Something new," I smirk as I continue to look down the aisle in anticipation of finding Bianca walking down the aisle of fucking depravity.

He opens the box and whistles lowly, looking at the rocks I've brought as a statement. Because honestly, that is the reason I spent all that money. I see them as a gift for Bianca, something to get her by when she finally finds that escape she's vying for. The resale might even be worth more than I spent on them. She could hide for years, perhaps only resurfacing after Dimitri is announced as dead. That's her safest bet.

"If any of these fuckers doubt your love for the girl, they'll soon realise you were willing to drop a few mils on a couple of damn statement rings," he whispers carefully.

"She might as well get something out of this fakery," I shrug, continuing to smile to keep up my appearance of being a happy man. But my face falters when the Densels come barreling down the stupid aisle that ought to swallow them up.

Luca's hand brushes my elbow, a clear sign to stop whatever he thought I might be planning in my mind. A good fucking punch to Franko's face was one thing I contemplated. Instead, I found the ring box shoved in my palm, an obvious silent statement not to ruin this wedding before it started. Pocketing the box, I grimace at the Densel's.

"Congratulations, Costa." Deric Densel, or Don Densel as most know him, speaks with a heavy-set northern English twang. He is Italian by blood, but he isn't Italian by nature. For years, they diluted themselves with the likes of English women. I don't think they could even string an Italian sentence together.

"Thank you, Don Densel," I manage to sound sincere.

"It's a shame we have to become enemies on this day, but as the law states, we must give you our best on the day of your wedding, so there will be no malice from my son or me here at the ceremony," he steps closer, gripping my hand with a vice-like a grip in an attempt to instil fear, no doubt. "But once today is over, do not mistake that we are enemies. So watch your fucking back, kid," he continues.

"Noted," I smile easily. Being an enemy is my second nature, and being Franko's enemy seems to be my fucking calling. I'm about to tell them that, make my own threat, but Luca beats me to it, ending whatever it was that was about to happen between us.

"I think that's enough," Luca interrupts as the wedding march begins.

My gaze flashes behind Franko's snarling face, and I see Dimitri standing with Bianca as they face one another at the end of the aisle. Dimitri seems to be giving her a talk as he did me at breakfast, but all I can concentrate on is how fucking beautiful Bianca looks, even from this distance. And to my surprise, the bottom of her brilliant white fucking wedding dress is red.

The rings feel even more meaningful now than they did the day I brought them.