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The soft fabric burned my skin because of what it represented.
“Please don’t make me do this, Mama.” I tried, letting my fear surface. “Marrying a stranger is one thing, but letting an old priest-” I couldn’t finish the sentence and shuddered violently.
“You will allow the priest to bless the marriage and prepare you for your husband,” she snapped with an exasperated sigh, “It’s how it’s done in the Rosetti family, and how it’s been done forcenturiesbefore. We aren’t going to suddenly change the tradition because you request it.” She yawned and then stepped back, looking at me in the gown. “You will do this, just as I did, and just as every Rosetti woman before you did. By tomorrow, you will forget it happened and you will have a blessed union with Nicolas Capasso because of it.” She pushed my shoulder towards the bed that had been turned down in my absence to dinner. “Now get in.” She pushed me again and I clamped my jaw shut to stop the whimper that wanted to break free.
This was barbaric.
She arranged the ceremonial bedding around me and pulled a white sheet up and then paused, looking down at me. “You will be fine Ari, it’s a moment of pain and then it’s done.”
“It’s rape.” I retorted.
I didn’t even see her hand move, though I should have expected it. Searing pain radiated across my cheek from her slap. I gasped and covered it with my hand in shock and shrunk back into the bedding.
My mother had never hit me.
That was my father’s favorite form of affection towards me, not hers.
“Shut up!” She hissed, and then clicked off the bedside light and glared at me through the shadows as she adjusted her dress like she hadn’t just assaulted her daughter. “You’ll be thankful it’s an impassive priest performing a religious ceremony. He gets no pleasure out of it, only when it’s done will you understand what it could have felt like if it was your brutish husband looking to empty himself at your expense.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. It was like she was brainwashed by old creepy men from the church into believing they didn’t enjoy deflowering virgins on the eve of their weddings in the name of their God. “Thankfully it will be dark in here when the priest arrives, so he doesn’t have to see the proof of your disobedience.” She indicated to my cheek where the skin burned with pain. I knew I wore the imprint of her hand. “He will be here sometime in the next hour after he meets with Nicolas and your father. Stay here and begood. I will see you in the morning.” She gave me a curt nod once again and then walked from the room.
Locking the door from the outside on her way out.
I let out a shuddered breath and looked at the dark ceiling as my world started to darken from the tranquilizers. It normally took longer for the tonic to start lulling my senses.
But I suppose tonight the drink was heavy tohelpme endure.
I waited for what felt like hours, hardly breathing every time a noise echoed down the long hallway outside of my bedroom door until I was near tears. Shadows danced around the dark room thanks to the soft glowing candlelight that came from the table where the basin of holy water lay in the center of the room. It was a guiding light for the monster to cleanse his hands after hisdutywas done.
Fucking puke.
The tonic deepened after a while, leaving me in a steady lull of numbness and indifference and my eyelids started to close from boredom and fatigue. I hadn’t slept soundly in what felt like weeks because of this entire thing and it was catching up with me.
But then, I heard the sound of the key sliding in the lock and turning, before light filled the doorway as the door opened, and in walked my tormentor.
I snapped my eyes shut and forced myself to take deep steady breaths as I listened to him turn the lock from the inside and then the soft tap of his shoes as he slowly walked across the room towards the basin.
My heart raced in my chest, and I felt lightheaded like I was going to faint from the sound of him in my room alone. The woes I had about marrying the most feared man in the world shrunk away as I faced this obstacle to even get to that one.
I cracked one eye open and tracked the man to the basin and sucked in a quick breath when I saw how large he was. He stood quartered away from me, looking down into the basin.
I wasn’t sure what I expected to see when I looked, perhaps a small old man wearing black robes of holiness. But what I wasn’t expecting was to see shoulders the size of a mammoth covered in a tight white button-down shirt that tapered where it tucked into a pair of black suit pants that hugged his narrow hips and long legs. It was dark, and I had trouble seeing anything else about him because he stood between me and the light. At my gasp, he looked over his shoulder far enough to glance at me before turning his attention back to the bowl.
Holy fuck.
And I meant that in the most disrespectful way possible.
There was nothing holy about this priest except for how badass he looked. His hair was short on the sides and with wavy dark strands on top, and in the warm glowing light, it looked like it had some salt and pepper to it around his temples.
He looked like a hot silver fox model on Instagram.
He scoffed and brought me back to reality, and poked his finger into the bowl of holy water, watching it ripple before standing up to his full height and turning towards me.
I shrunk back into the bedding further, hoping to disappear completely under his predatory gaze as he stalked closer. When he was at the end of the bed, he stood there, silently watching me with his face encased in shadows as I felt something prickling my skin through the haze of the tonic.
But I had no idea what the hell it was.
“Arianna.” He said with a thick purr and my chest caved in on a sigh before I took a deep breath, clutching the sheet to my chest.
“Yes,” I whispered as he slid his fingers over my toes and gathered the sheet in his hand, and slowly pulled it down. I clutched at it under my chin, and we had a quick game of tug-of-war over it before he pulled harder and it slid from my fingers, whispering down over my gown into a pile at his feet.
