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Her cheeks grow a beautiful shade of pink under the weight of my stare, which adds a certain innocence to her complexion.
I’m well aware of the fact that I’m ten years older than her, and that I’m stealing a moment from her that most girls dream off since childhood. But in order to survive in my world, you have to make sacrifices.
Our eyes stay locked as Bianca makes her way down the aisle, which has been laid with a pale pink carpet to match the flowers. Her full lips are parted, and I know that the moment she stands beside me she’s going to make another snide comment.
And I can’t fucking wait.
“Here we go.” Dimitri chuckles under his breath as Bianca and Emilio eventually reach the end of the aisle.
I glance at Emilio who nods his head once before taking his daughter's hand and offering it to me.
As I go to reach for Bianca’s hand, she snatches it away, choosing to pick up the heavy skirt of her dress and move so that she’s facing me.
“Forgive me, I didn’t have a chance to write my own vows.” She shoots me a glare.
Laughter titillates through the small crowd which only deepens her scowl.
“I took the liberty of writing some for you.” I grin, reaching into the inside pocket of my jacket and pulling out a sheet of paper. “I think you’ll find them satisfactory.”
She frowns as she unfolds the paper and scans the vows that I jotted down for her while she was changing.
“Are you kidding?” She snorts. “What is this, the ninety-fifties? There’s no way in hell I’m saying any of this.”
“You’re welcome to make a few changes, but I suggest you stick to the gist of what I’ve written.” I smile at her, but I know she can take a hint.
Bianca’s blue eyes meet mine for a moment, and her cheeks instantly redden, and I know she’s picturing what I mentioned in there.
As if she can sense my own thoughts, she clears her throat and looks back down at the vows.
“How about I agree to listen to you occasionally and that we have mutual respect for each other?”
“I guess that will do. For now.” I raise my eyebrow. “But that second paragraph?—”
“Is not going to happen.”
Dimitri stifles his laughter next to me.
I bend down so that my lips are almost brushing her ear.
“The same would apply to you too, solnyshka. I’ll be more than happy to take care of your every need and desire…”
The sound of her breath catching makes me grin.
I straighten and let my eyes flick down to her breasts which are rising and falling quickly as she tries to calm herself.
“Don’t even think for a second that I’m wearing a ring.”
“That’s fine, kisa. Everyone will already know who you belong to.”
She shoots me a glare that makes me bite the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling.
I like how easy it is to rile her up.
“Let’s get this over with.” She turns to face the very patient minister who seems rather concerned by the nature of this wedding.
Round one to me.
The moment Bianca Bellucci signs the marriage certificate in front of all two hundred guests and is officially declared my wife is a moment that is burned into my brain forever. Not because of how romantic or heartwarming it was, but because the moment she slams the pen down onto the table, she gets to her feet, storms off down the aisle, grabbing a rogue bottle of champagne from an ice bucket on the way and disappears inside the elevator without a backwards glance.
