Chapter fifteen: The Bride he abandoned

I stared at him, my hand still raised and of course he wasn’t.

This was Luca Ricci, a man who probably had people begging for their lives before breakfast.

What was one angry woman going to do to him and so I slowly lowered my hand.

“I hate you.”

The words came out broken and my expression didn’t change.

“Get in line.”

I laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You’re cruel, arrogant, and completely heartless!”

“And yet here we are, married to me.”

I looked down at the wedding ring on my finger.

The diamond glittered beneath the chandelier, beautiful and completely useless, what a spectacular mistake.

“Give me my necklace,” I whispered.

“No.”

“Please, Luca.”

His jaw tightened. “Stop asking.”

“But Mamma gave it to me!”

“And perhaps your precious mother should explain how she came to possess something that was never hers!”

I flinched and he stepped closer.

“Listen carefully, Fiona. Your family has spent years hiding behind money, influence, and pretty lies. Don’t expect me to believe every innocent little story they feed you.”

“My family isn’t perfect,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “But you have no right to speak about them like that.”

“Rights?” He laughed bitterly. “You want to lecture me about rights?”

“Yes! Because whatever happened between you and my father has nothing to do with me!”

“Everything about you has to do with your father.”

I went still. “What does that mean?”

For a moment, he looked as though he might answer.

Instead, he turned toward the door. “We’re done.”

“Luca—”

“Goodnight, Fiona.”

He opened the door and my humiliation became complete.

***

The corridor wasn’t empty, two maids stood beside a service trolley, looking as though they’d been frozen in place.

A security guard waited near the staircase and farther down the hallway stood Matteo, all of them were staring.

Oh, God.

They’d heard us, every scream, insult and desperate plea.

I stood in the doorway wearing a ridiculously short ivory robe, barefoot, with tears running down my face.

A bride on her wedding night, watching her husband leave, Matteo’s expression changed when he saw me.

“Luca?”

“Get the car.”

Matteo frowned. “What happened?”

“Did I ask you a question?”

The corridor fell silent and Matteo glanced at me again but some reason, that almost made me cry harder.

I could handle anger, insults, even humiliation but never pity.

God, no I hated pity with my life and someone that was how everyone was looking it me, with pity.

“Luca, perhaps we should—”

“Matteo.”

One word was all it took and Matteo nodded.

“Fine.” He walked away.

I looked at the maids, one quickly lowered her head while the other suddenly became fascinated with the towels on her trolley.

Wonderful because by morning, the entire household would know that Luca Ricci had abandoned his bride on their wedding night.

Perhaps they’d even take bets on how long the marriage would last.

“Luca,” I whispered.

He stopped near the staircase and one foolish second, hope moved inside me.

Maybe he’d turn around and apologize then he’d remember that I was a person and not some unfortunate extension of my father’s supposed mistakes.

I knew papa was a mafia don and maybe he must have had a squabble with Luca over land or shipment, but it doesn’t mean I’ll suffer.

He looked over his shoulder. “What?”

I swallowed. “Please don’t do this to me.”

His eyes moved over my face and for a moment, something almost human flickered in them then it vanished.

“Go back inside, Fiona.” And he walked away.

I watched until he disappeared down the stairs and I closed the door.

***

The silence was unbearable, I leaned against the door, staring at the enormous bedroom, the roses, candles and champagne sitting untouched beside the bed.

Someone had scattered rose petals across the white sheets, how wonderfully thoughtful.

I laughed and suddenly, I couldn’t stop so I laughed until my chest hurt until my eyes blurred and laughter turned into cries.

A sob escaped me, I covered my mouth because I wasn’t going to cry over Luca Ricci, I wasn’t going to give that arrogant, heartless bastard the satisfaction.

But the tears came anyway, I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor, pulling my knees against my chest.

My mother had told me the necklace would protect me and the first thing my husband had done was take it away.

I touched my bare neck, the absence of the pendant hurt almost as much as his words.

Your mother is a thief.

Your family is full of liars.

Everything about you has to do with your father.

I squeezed my eyes shut, I knew he didn’t know them, he couldn’t.

My mother was the woman who stayed awake whenever I was sick, who held me when I cried, who taught me that kindness wasn’t weakness.

My father was complicated, yes, controlling, stubborn and sometimes impossible.

But he loved us, didn’t he?

A fresh wave of tears spilled down my cheeks as I looked toward the mirror.

The woman reflected there barely resembled the bride who’d walked down the aisle that afternoon.

My hair was disheveled, eyes were swollen, my wedding-night robe was wrinkled and my husband was gone.

Somewhere downstairs, people were probably still drinking champagne and congratulating one another on the beautiful union between the Romano and Ricci families.

If only they knew and could see the bride sitting on the floor, crying because the man she’d married couldn’t even bear to remain in the same room with her.

I pressed my forehead against my knees.

I’d thought the worst part of this marriage would be sharing my life with a man I didn’t love.

I’d thought I could survive his arrogance, his rules, and his irritating habit of treating every conversation like a battle he intended to win.

But tonight had shown me something else.

Luca Ricci didn’t simply dislike my family, he hated them and somehow, without knowing why, I’d become the person he wanted to punish.

I looked at the wedding ring glittering on my finger.

I’d been foolish enough to believe that perhaps, beneath all his arrogance, there might be something decent about him.

I was wrong.

Marrying Luca Ricci wasn’t just a mistake, It was the beginning of my nightmare.

Then my phone vibrated on the bedside table, wiped my cheeks and forced myself to stand.

A message from Mamma.

Mama: My darling, I hope you’re happy tonight. Remember what I told you about the necklace. Keep it close to your heart. I love you.

My throat tightened as I stared at the message i felt fear, Mamma hadn’t simply given me a necklace she made me promise never to take it off.

And somehow, on the very night I’d married Luca Ricci, he’d recognized it.

I slowly sat on the edge of the bed as I thought about what the hell had my mother given me?