20

20
Arabella

My cheeks burned in embarrassment at the realization that I might be jealous. What I felt for Six was not just mere attraction as I had thought.

It wasn’t just sexual tension; it was strong enough to make me, a grown woman, burst into tears in the middle of a party because he was talking to another girl.

Could it be my hormones? Or my period? Or my ovulation? What girly disaster was responsible for my new behavior?

I walked away from them, putting as much distance as I could between us, but that didn’t stop me from stealing glances at them every now and then.

I gulped down the last contents of my drink when a man walked up to me. He was carrying two champagne flutes.

“Here’s one for the lady,” he said and offered me one.

I smiled at him politely. “Thank you.”

His smile took me aback for a moment; he looked really young. He didn’t look like any of the men here - he had the kindest eyes I had ever seen.

He was gawking at me, and then he looked away. “It took me a moment to walk up to you, but then I finally summoned the courage. You look absolutely stunning tonight; I just had to say that.”

My smile grew wider. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

He nodded. “Enjoy the party.”

“Of course, you too,” I replied, and then he turned around and left.

Almost immediately, Marco returned with Francesco not far behind. He took my hand. “Who is that?”

I realized I didn’t even get his name. “He just came to offer me a drink.”

Marco took it away from me and dropped it on the tray of a passing waiter. “Come with me. I need you to meet a few of my guests.”

He crooked his elbow, and I slipped my hand into it and let him lead me. We walked up to a small group - three mean-looking men who looked like they had no business wearing suits and a lady in a short black dress.

“Hello, fellas. Hope everything is splendid?” Marco greeted with a cheery smile as we got to them.

I mouthed an inaudible hello and waved at them.

“Fellas? Really?” the lady asked with a frown on her face.

Marco grinned. “I’m sorry, Sofia. How have you been?”

She rolled her eyes at him, her arms folded across her chest.

He chuckled. “I see she’s still a bit sensitive…”

The men around cackled.

Sofia glared at me. She had captivating green eyes that were fierce and angry at this moment. “I see you found yourself a new trophy,” she remarked. “You have her hooked to your side, showing her off everywhere. When are you going to toss her to the side like you always do and pick fresh new meat?” Her words dripped with venom.

The men chuckled, but not so confidently, they were taken aback by her retort.

Marco smiled, a small smile at first, and then he turned to look at me. “Have you seen my bride? Like really seen her? Fellas, I give you permission,” he turned his attention back to the men, “Look at her body…”

I clenched my teeth.

The men hesitated.

“Come on, I won’t be offended. I need you to look at this woman and tell me she’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life…”

Sofia was fuming.

The men murmured in agreement, still terrified to answer coherently.

He slipped his hand around my waist and pulled me close. “This is my last piece of meat. I don’t want another,” he leaned closer and captured my lips in a soft kiss.

I stiffened, but he probed his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss until I relaxed, then he pulled away.

When he did, I stole a quick glance at Six, but he wasn’t looking in our direction. He was engrossed in the conversation he was having with Katherine. He had that sexy smile on his face. I bit my lip and looked away quickly.

The men gave us a round of applause.

Sofia scoffed and sauntered off.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Marco was cheesing hard. He took my hand and led me away.

And then we were all alone. He took out a cigar from his pocket and put it in his mouth. “Help me, will you? Love.”

I stared at him in confusion at first before I figured it out. Of course! He needed me to help him light his cigar.

He gestured toward his breast pocket. I fished inside until I pulled out the fancy lighter. His eyes were on me the whole time, the small smirk on his lips.

I was conscious of his eyes on me, and when I tried to light his cigar, I was fidgety. He held my hand to steady me. “There we go.”

I put the lighter back.

He glanced at Sofia. “Jilted lover,” he explained.

I merely nodded.

He stared at me in amusement. “Are you not jealous?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Oh really? Not even slightly?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Because if another man so much as glances in your direction with a flicker of lust in his eyes, I would kill him,” he stated.

I swallowed and licked my lips. I searched his face for a sign that this was a joke, but there wasn’t one - no small smile, just a deadpan expression on his face.

I lowered my gaze and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Come on, love,” he took my hand in his. “The party’s just getting started.”

We smiled and waved at a few guests; for a few others, we had to stop and make small talk. Marco always had his hand around my waist in a possessive grip.

And then we walked into Don Corleone. My breath caught in my throat, and I froze. The party was alive with laughter and clinking glasses, but I barely heard any of it.

My focus was on Don Corleone and Marco as they stood just a few feet away, in silence.

“Marco,” Don Corleone greeted smoothly, his voice deep, calm, measured. “It has been some time.”

Marco smiled, sharp and too easy. “Don Corleone,” he replied, dipping his head just slightly, just enough. “A pleasure, as always.”

The older man nodded, his expression unreadable. “I hear business is good.”

Marco chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass. “Business is always good, Don. When you know how to handle it.”

A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corners of Don Corleone’s mouth. “Yes,” he murmured. “Handling things properly is important.”

I swallowed hard, my palms damp, my breath unsteady as I stared at Don Corleone. He barely acknowledged me, his dark eyes unreadable, his expression a mask of indifference.

Marco, on the other hand, grinned like a man with nothing to fear, though I knew his fingers were curled just a little too tightly around his glass.

The interaction ended as suddenly as it began. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Corleone.”

“Of course,” he answered with a smile. “And your bride is a vision, Marco. You’re one lucky man,” he added and walked off.

Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead even though the room was perfectly ventilated. I almost sighed in relief as he walked away.

Marco tipped his glass back, swallowing his wine in long, desperate gulps before shoving another into my hand. Then another. I held them, fingers trembling around the cool glass, but I couldn’t bring myself to drink.

He leaned in, his breath warm and heavy with alcohol. His lips found my neck first, then my jaw. His hands wandered.

I stiffened, eyes darting toward Six, but he barely looked at me - just a brief glance before turning back to Katherine. He laughed at something she said. My heart hammered. I felt sick.

Then Marco stepped away and clapped his hands together, calling for the room’s attention. My stomach dropped.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” His voice boomed over the chatter, and the room fell into a hush.

Marco turned to me, grinning. And then, God, he lowered himself onto one knee.

A gasp rippled through the crowd. My chest tightened as he pulled out a ring, a huge diamond that caught the chandelier light and sent sharp, glittering reflections into my eyes.

“Arabella,” he said, his voice thick with wine and satisfaction, “marry me.”

The room waited. Eyes pinned me in place. My fingers clenched around the stem of my glass. Could I say no?

For a brief, dizzying second, I wondered if I could do it - shake my head, turn, run. But then Marco’s smirk wavered, his expression darkening just slightly, just enough. And I knew.

So I took it.

The room erupted in cheers. Applause. Laughter. I forced a smile as Marco grabbed my face and kissed me, his fingers pressing into my skin, his hands rough as they wandered. His voice was loud, triumphant.

“My woman and I will be retiring for the night,” he announced with a dramatic wink. The laughter that followed made my skin crawl.

I wanted to disappear.

More kisses. His hand on my ass. The weight of everyone’s attention made me nauseous as he led me toward the stairs. I turned my head, one last desperate glance at Six.

But he wasn’t looking at me. He was still staring at Katherine like she hung the moon.

Then Marco nearly collided with a waiter. He barked out a laugh, grabbing two more glasses of wine before the man could slip away.