Page 56 of Legacy of Deception

“How much?” I begged for her to repeat it, louder this time for everyone in the whole neighborhood to hear it.

Pressing against her clit, I was pushing her in more ways than one as I plunged my fingers deeper.

The only response I got was the only one I needed as she cried, her orgasm slamming into her, riding over her in waves. I slowly pumped my fingers in and out to drag it out as long as possible until I ceased altogether.

Brooklyn weakened, leaning onto me as she came down, and I took back my hand, bringing it to my mouth as I licked the side of it. Sweet and a bit tart.

I had a feeling she was going to break my heart, destroy me, and I was going to let her because she held a blank check with my signature on it.

But I would return the favor.

It was the right thing to do.

Chapter 23

Use your words

BROOKLYN

Venues would have entered a bidding war if they needed to, simply to secure the highly anticipated wedding of a Deluca. Honestly, with the high-security measures put in place, it seemed less like a wedding at a luxury venue and social club on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 57th Street and more like a safely guarded bank on Wall Street.

Tabloids and press alike were strictly prohibited from attending. Instead, one publication of our family’s choosing had been selected to make an appearance during the first dance. Afterward, they would be escorted off the premises where they would scurry home and work on making sure they met the deadline to run for morning print coverage. They would want to strike while the iron was hot and before everyone else moved to get in on a slice of the pie.

The ceremony was to be held at the same cathedral where Nicolo’s christening had taken place, with the reception at the Gilded Age venue that was within walking distance to Central Park. I seemed to have very little say over the whole thing, but truthfully it didn’t matter, because even if I did, I would’ve probably chosen this place myself. It exuded glamour in an Old New York stylistic sense.

We had started our tour on the top floor because my mother had her sights set on the penthouse restaurant. There was nothing wrong with it, but the way most brides felt about the dress, I felt about the venue. Yes, the dress was all mine, all about me, and Marco would enjoy it on me and taking it off me, but the venue was ours. It was the single place we could pinpoint as the start of our union, the place we could return to and remember celebrating with friends and family.

While this may have started out as a sham, it was beginning to feel less like one. That wasn’t to say, though, that I would have been marrying Marco this soon if we had any say in the matter. Although, it didn’t necessarily feel like there was a point in playing that game since this was how it had to be, and I certainly had come to terms with it. More or less anyway.

Fixing the brown suede purse on my wrist, I looked around, my fingers resting on my gold chain link bracelet as I tried not to have any regrets. My stomach twisted, the knot growing tighter as my mother talked to the event planner and designer for the venue. For all other matters, we had a coordinator, but the venue required we utilize their staff so as not to confuse matters.

I didn’t mind a rooftop space, and who could say no to it when it was glass-enclosed? Photographers would have a field day with a view like this. But this wasn’t what I wanted. It didn’t feel right. It felt cold and uninviting.

This was Margot Briggs, though, and whatever she wanted, she got. Neither one of my parents valued a daughter who had a lot of opinions. They wanted a daughter who was going to do as they said. So, I went into this knowing my role. I was to nod and agree, nothing more.

A heaviness settled in my chest, and I barely registered Marco’s hand as it came down on my back, resting there. Whenever I was with my parents, I felt like I was surrounded by darkness. Like I was about to go into the mysterious woods alone in the middle of the night. Marco’s touch became like a flashlight, leading me out of the darkness and back…to this…life…him.

“Oh, honey, has Cecilia heard anything back from the perfumers?” my mother asked, turning her head slightly to face me as Lauren, the event planner and designer, jotted something down on her device. I couldn’t be entirely certain what it was, but my best assumption was they had made yet another decision without me. I didn’t fault Lauren, of course. I knew she was only following my mother’s orders, doing as she was told. Lauren was nothing more than a stranger to me, but in that way, we were similar. Except the unfortunate part was that she had a reason to be that way, wanting to keep her job at the venue. I, on the other hand, simply continued to do it to maintain my role in this family. Without it, I didn’t know where I would stand.

Blinking, I shifted in my brown loafers. “Perfumers?” This was a private tour they had set up specifically for us, having shut down operations earlier than usual so there wasn’t a crowd. However, we were still bound by the professional attire they required of patrons who entered the venue for one reason or another. That was why I’d dressed in a coffee-hued fitted blazer and matching skirt.

Wanting to appear as a romantic couple and of a united front, we coordinated, Marco wearing brown slacks and a caramel dress shirt.

My mother placed a hand on her forehead, like I had caused her great distress in not knowing what she was referring to. “For the custom fragrance bar.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure. If she has, she hasn’t filled me in on the details.” Why were we having a fragrance bar to begin with? Not that it wasn’t an interesting concept, because it was, but I wasn’t sold on the necessity of having one.

Shaking her head, my mother dropped her hand, using it now to speak as she emphatically flailed it around. “Well, that won’t do. I’ll reach out to her after this.”

Bowing my head slightly, I offered a contrite smile. “Sure.”

Turning her frustration toward Lauren, she sighed heavily and clapped a hand on the side of her leg as she took in the space all at once. Her eyes roamed over every inch before landing back on Lauren. “This might not be what we’ve been looking for. Maybe we should discuss it further.”

Lauren nodded, but her lips drew into thin lines.

Stepping forward, I put a hand out, ready to reach for my mother’s arm, but she moved away, walking around like she owned the place. Her brows couldn’t have touched any more. “What seems to be the problem, Mom?”

“Cecilia and I really thought the penthouse was going to be the answer. I mean, this has one of the best views of the city skyline and Central Park.” Both of which were beautiful, but neither held any particular importance to me such that I would have needed them to be the backdrop for my reception.