Page 36 of Oath of Submission


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I nod, because I am. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Another nod. I give what others might think is an affectionate slap to his cheek before we part, but it stings my palm and leaves an angry pink mark on his cheek. “Remember what I’ve said.”

With a nod, he turns from me and discreetly rubs his cheek. “You ready?”

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

This home that I inherited is on the austere side of things to say the least. Cathedral ceilings inside, with living rooms that feature balconies overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, we have almost double the average water frontage as the average luxury home here with two hundred feet of private beach. It’s kind of showy. That’s the point.

I didn’t want a beach wedding, though. Sand gets fucking everywhere, and it’s so hot under the direct sunlight this time of year it’s like walking through hell. So instead, we’ve set it up so that the vows and following reception will be outdoors near the pool. We have covered verandas, paved patios, and seating galore. My plan is to host the celebration under full coverage from our security cameras, and staff and guests wilting under the heat can cool off indoors or in the pool.

I look out the plate glass windows. Tables are set up, decorated with white tablecloths, green vines, and boughs of white flowers. The elegant strings of a violin play in the background, and the soft murmurs of staff serving hors d'oeuvres blend with the music.

We put on a good show when we want to. That’s what this is all about, I tell myself.Show.There’s no love lost between me and my future wife and never will be. The best I can hope for is that we can tolerate each other. Hot sex might season the deal.

One of my men opens the double doors that lead to the paved patio in the back. To my far right, I see a cluster of women dressed in elegant dresses, a flash of white behind them. Marialena’s there, then, with her staff.

The women are at ease, talking and laughing freely, like old friends. How has she done that already? She only came here last night and passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

I hear Marialena’s voice, then a peal of laughter from one of the younger women of her staff.

“Shh,” one of them hushes her. “It’s a somber time!”

This makes them all lapse into laughter. Someone whispers something to Marialena, and her delicate laugh joins theirs.

Of course. She’s here for less than twenty-four hours, and she’s already managed to beguile my staff.

I feel my own lips turn down in a scowl. They’d better fucking respect her.

Cristiano walks ahead of me, and one of the staff catches his eye. As if someone shut the lights out, their faces sober. No one laughs any more. They stand stock-still as if expecting me to berate them for poor behavior or to make an example of one of them for not taking their roles seriously.

Someone claps me on the back, but by the time I turn around, they’re gone. This is why I fucking hate crowds.

“Let’s get this started,” I mutter to Cristiano.

“We’re doing the best we can,” he responds. “But we have to wait—”

I snap my fingers to Giuseppe. “Yeah, boss?”

“I want to get this over with.Now.”

“You got it.” He speaks into a walkie-talkie, gestures ahead of himself, then turns and smiles to me before he raises his hand, and a trumpet begins to play.

People go to their seats. The crowd hushes.

Mama walks ahead of me, takes Cristiano’s arm, then marches down the aisle toward her seat.

My turn.

Cell phones flash as people take pictures of me and Giuseppe walking down the aisle. I hear the murmur of voices. I don’t look at anyone or make eye contact. I hate ceremonial bullshit and want this over with.

I take my place up front as the music shifts. This will be a short wedding ceremony, albeit a Catholic one to appease my family and tradition but without a full mass with all the bells and whistles. Still, I want out of here, and fast. I want my ring on her finger. I want her to take vows, and I want to be done with this whole affair so I can move on and we can get all these people the fuck off my property.

“You lookamazing.” I blink in surprise to see my eldest sister Techla standing right near Mama up front. I didn’t think either of my sisters would be able to make it.

“Hey,” I say warmly, reaching for her. I give her a big hug, as the music changes. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” she says with a shrug. “Glad to see you’re finally tying the knot. Whoever picked out your clothes for today did an awesome job. Your shirt matches your eyes.”

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