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“R—really?” he asks, shivering. I clap his back so hard that he almost falls.
“Of course, I mean it. What kind of man lies on his wedding day?” I ask.
I turn to Bunny and Donatello. “Bunny set up the cameras. Donatello, bring my future wife to be with me,” I say.
Bunny enthusiastically runs off to take care of his chore, while Donatello looks at me.
“Antonio, are you sure you want to do this? We can deal with Giovanni some other way,” he says.
I smile. “Get my bride, Donatello. We can’t make her late for her own wedding.”
“There is no getting through to you,” he sighs, leaving.
Giovanni played with fire when he decided to plant a spy in my club. I’m going to let him know that nothing gets past my eyes.
This is a clear message to him, and it’s okay if my brothers don’t understand.
Bunny appears with a camera, adjusting the lens. “I’m no professional cinematographer, but I think this all looks great,” he says happily, adjusting and changing a few more things.
He looks at me. “You’re dressed like that for your wedding?” he asks.
I look down at my black suit and shrug. It’s a designer label. Surely that’s good enough for a wedding.
You look like you’re going to a funeral,” Bunny says to me.
“Might as well be,” I shoot back, smoothing my hair. “It’s the funeral of Giovanni’s attempt to take control of my empire.”
“Which is as good a reason as any to get married,” he mutters, still shaking his head. I doubt that he agrees with my plan any more than Donny, but he’s less likely to raise a fuss.
Donatello soon appears, and behind him is Alyssa. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, just like it did the first time I saw her in the basement, tied up and helpless. I mean it when I say that we don’t hurt women, but if they happen to like being hurt, well that’s another story.
I imagine a future situation where Alyssa might enjoy me tying her up very much and smile a little. I have so many plans for her that are still formulating in my mind.
She’s still tied up, and Donatello is pulling her by her arms. Her big green eyes that used to twinkle are now dull and sunken. There are also circles under her eyes, and her face is still stained with tears.
“Can we get this over with? I bet on a hockey game that’s coming on in about twenty minutes,” Donatello says as he brings her closer.
I see our kidnapped officiant shoot Donatello a sharp glance, but when he sees that I am looking at him, he clears his throat and looks at his shoes.
“This won’t take long,” I say, looking at my bride. I can see her scanning my face like she’s trying to figure out what I’m planning. I expected to see fear in her gaze, but instead, I just see a calculated and thoughtful look on her face. This gives me some pause, but I always knew she was smart enough to be dangerous to me. Why should that change now?
“Untie my bride, will you?” I ask Donatello.
He sighs and starts to undo the rope around her hands.
“You know what? I might prefer her to remain tied up,” I say, stopping him halfway. He sighs and rolls his eyes.
I look at her and smile. “She might have thought about giving us the slip, running back to Giovanni to report to him. We can’t have that.”
She snorts at my words, and the flare of anger in her eyes does something to me that’s not just physical. I find that I want her to be tied up just to let her know that I can and will control her. I control everything around here, and she’s not going to be any different.
“Hello, spy,” I say. She doesn’t speak. “Today, you and I will be getting married. What do you think?” I ask.
She looks like she’d like to spit in my face, but then she looks away.
I chuckle. “I know. It’s not like you have much of a choice,” I say.
She sniffs, and I realize that she’s crying.
