MRS. ROMANO

SONIA’S POV

Father: I don’t know what you said to convince Mr. Romano, but whatever it was you said to him worked.

How bold of him to think I said anything to convince Anthony.

Turns out that I had nothing to be confused about after I had weighed my list of options that not so surprisingly didn’t have a lot of benefits. It took a lot of pride pushing, will and determination to make the decision I ended up making which is why I am almost 40,000 feet above sea level, and in a private plane with a man I know absolutely nothing about. My phone vibrates on my lap and I look to see that it’s another text from my father.

Father: I was made to sign an NDA, so this marriage must be very import to him. Sonia, you’re going to do everything in your power to make him happy. Don’t let my years of hard work be in vain.

I don’t even care to know what he means by that. Instead, I bury my cellphone deep into my handbag and try to focus on my breathing.

Anthony Romano is seated opposite from me, muttering commands into his phone. Our eyes meet occasionally but he doesn’t utter one word to me even as he sees that I’m clearly unsettled. The entire duration of the flight to New Jersey is all of 3 hours before we’re landing in the airstrip, getting into a waiting black SUV and being driven away. It all happens so fast, a protocol to transport the heir to the Italian mafia and his bride to be – away before harm is done.

Is this really what my life is going to be like for the entire duration of our marriage? The contract didn’t state how long the marriage would last, so I’m guessing it will be until he gets tired of me and my child or even until he’s accomplished whatever it is that he’s hiding.

Twenty uncomfortable minutes filled with nervousness, fidgeting and looking through the windows at nothing in particular – goes by and we arrive at a really tall high rise building in Jersey City. I’m too distracted with the view to notice that Anthony is on another call as we’re parked in an underground garage filled with colorful and exotic cars.

The trip to the elevator isn’t as rushed as getting into the car was earlier. Just I and Anthony enter the elevator and I watch as he presses the button for the 47th floor before running his thumb print through a scanner. I begin to wonder if we’re at a hotel or if this is where he lives but once we get to the 47th floor and the elevator doors slide open, I shut my minds mouth.

The Penthouse foyer is the first thing I see, with the luxury of its sleek lines and abundance of natural light. Walking into the penthouse, my gaze wanders upward to the stunning chandelier that hangs from the ceiling like a work of art, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the walls and floor.

To my left, there’s a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a breathtaking view of Jersey City’s skyline. The sun is almost setting, casting a warm golden light over the towering skyscrapers and the glittering lights of the city. Ahead of me is a beautifully crafted staircase that’s curved upward to the second floor of the penthouse and what I know to also be the 48th floor of the building.

This is definitely his home, alright.

Anthony’s voice breaks the spell, his low tone drawing my attention to the expensive living area that’s stretched out before me. And he’s not standing alone.

“I’m glad you like your new home, Miss Dexter. This is Chiara,” He stands aside to introduce a blonde woman who’s around the same age as me. Chiara is grinning from ear to ear that I start wondering if her face doesn’t hurt.

“She is my housekeeper and she will look after your every need while you’re here. Your bags will be brought up soon so you can settle in.”

Because I’m still looking at Chiara and not him, I can see him in my periphery walk back to the elevator but he halts at the foyer, looking into his phone.

“The wedding is in two days, by the way. Everything will be handled accordingly so you need not worry yourself.” With that, he leaves me alone with Chiara, an insanely gorgeous woman who house keeps for him and is apparently still smiling at me.

I don’t know which bothers me more; the fact that I was almost literally ignored during our entire trip here until moments ago, the size of this massive penthouse, that I and Anthony will be wedded in less than 48 hours or that he lives in the same space with a woman of this caliber.

I’ve never thought of myself to be the jealous type especially since I and Anthony aren’t really even a thing but some part of me can’t help feeling that way and it’s just the first day here. Something tells me I’m in for a long ride.

***

My dress is beautiful, hugs every curve of my body and white. I didn’t think I would be made to wear a white dress considering my virginity not being intact. But then I remembered that apart from myself, my father and Anthony, everyone else including the thousands of people present today, are in the dark about the truth of this union.

Anthony hovers over me, looking lavish in his three piece black suit and tie. He has my hand in his as he stares intently at me while the priest says our vows for us to repeat.

I feel squirmish under Anthony’s scrutinizing gaze but I manage to say my vows after he has said his.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” The priest finishes before taking a step back from the intimidating man that is now my husband.

I don’t look to Anthony expectantly for a kiss. Instead, I look nervously at the crowd of people in attendance, wearing both pleasant and fake smiles. I recognize the fake smiles enough to know that they are being directed at me. The only other pleasant smile I know has a part to do with me is that of my father who seats just behind Anthony’s father, the Italian mafia don.

But just as soon as I’d turned to look at the audience, cold hands are immediately on my chin, lifting my face up and my lips are soon covered with Anthony’s, shocking the hell out of me.

In that moment, I’m lost in the spell of his kiss, momentarily forgetting my resolve not to let him in after being absent since he dumped me at his home until meeting him at the alter today.

I quickly catch myself and lock my jaw before his tongue can slip in while praying that he quits because frankly, my will can’t hold on much longer. He’s just too good at what he does.

His tongue demands access but I decline. Thankfully, the priest awkwardly clears his throat, bringing our attention to the cheering guest who are giggling and laughing at our display.

My face turns a crimson red and I just wish the ground could swallow me whole. On the other hand, Anthony doesn’t seem to mind as he has a much too handsome smirk on his face. He lowers his lips to my ear.

“That was a good prep.” He whispers, the scruff of his beard gliding along my skin. The feeling sends shivers down my body.

“Prep to what?” I ask when he’s looking at me again. Then I realize what he means and gasp. “I’m not sleeping with you.” I mouth silently.

“We’ll see about that, darling.” Amusement dances in his eyes and I can’t help but wonder what he means.

We leave the chapel for the reception venue which is as grand as ever. Hours after toasts have been made to our marriage, Anthony is whisked away and I’m left standing alone at a corner of my own wedding reception. How pathetic is it that I have no friends who could be here with me today.

Standing at the corner and sipping a glass of champagne, my eyes are drawn to a couple headed my way. The woman is a blonde probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s while the man who she has her arms linked with is an older man probably in his 70’s. They stop in front of me with a smile on their faces but one looks more genuine than the other.

“Sonia, is it?” The woman starts and I immediately don’t like her. She’s a beautiful woman, though. She has a glorious pale skin, raven hair and bright red lips with what would’ve been an even more beautiful smile, but apart from the fact that she smells like trouble, I can’t put my hand on what exactly it is about her.

I reciprocate with a fake smile of my own. “Mrs. Romano.” I correct and if I had blinked a second earlier, I would’ve missed the faltering of her smile. Interesting.

“Ah yes. Forgive my manners. I am Cynthia Rossi and this is my dear husband, Charles. We are dear friends of the family.”

I shake them both as hastily as I can, eager to be rid of the woman especially. She gives me the creeps. Her husband on the other hand doesn’t so much as say a word. It seems like Cynthia holds all the reigns in their marriage. I suddenly feel sorry for the man.

“I must say, you are such a lucky woman, Mrs. Romano. I hope you hold on tight to your husband. He’s a rare one.” Despite her words, she has a smug face on and I can’t help but feel like there’s an underlying meaning to what she’s just said to me. I only smile, not knowing what else to say to her.

I immediately feel a presence behind me. It’s Anthony. I’m surprised that my body can tell when he’s near and quite frankly, that scares me. His hands gently grab the curve of my hip and he leans in, pressing a kiss on my head. I don’t even have time to be shocked by his action because I know it’s all a façade. Looking at him is also how I know that he and Cynthia are not just ‘dear friends’. The look they share are more like long term acquaintances. Of course, Charles is oblivious to everything that’s happening. I make a mental note to ask Anthony about them sometime in the future if ever he might be open to answering my questions.

“Unfortunately, we have to leave.” Anthony says. I force a smile at him and let him lead me away from Cynthia and her husband.

“Go say goodbye to your father.”

“Oh we’ve said our goodbye’s, alright.” I lie but at the same time not really lying. When you’re practically disowned, there’s no clearer message than that. “Are we really leaving?”

“Of course.” He mutters absentmindedly as another couple passes by, saying their goodbyes.

“Thank God!” I let out a relieved breath. “I’ve had enough for today. I’m exhausted.”

Anthony turns to look at me and I see that amusement in his eyes just like back at the chapel.

“The night is very far from over.” He smirks.

“What do you mean?” I whisper when we’re out in the cool night, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he directs me into the back of his SUV and as the car drives away my heart begins to pound relentlessly.