Keeping his bride

Verona

T’S THE MIDDLE of the night when I wake up in bed.

Alone. Wrapping a kimono around me, I make my way downstairs. A soft light is shining under the door of Luca’s office, so I knock gently. A moment later, the lock disengages, and I enter.

Luca is sitting at his desk, his attention focused on the laptop in front of him. He glances up at me. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks with a warm smile.

“No.” I stay at the door, waiting.

“Come here,” he says, pushing his chair back a few inches from his desk. When I approach, he pats his leg, and I take a seat on his lap. He snuggles me close to him, placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

I really love how affectionate Luca has become. It’s almost like he can’t get close enough to me sometimes, and I feel the same exact way. It’s like I want to crawl inside of him to just be closer.

“What are you doing?” I ask. On the screen is a video that looks like it was taken from a powerful camera high above a huge warehouse with a lot of shipping containers near a boating dock.

“Watching aerial footage from our drones.”

“What’s in the shipping containers?” My curiosity pulls me closer, examining every frame of the footage.

“People,” he says.

My world comes crashing to a sudden halt. “Like… human trafficking?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

“Yes,” he answers, confirming my worst fear.

I’m up and out of his lap in a split second, my hackles rising. “You are buying and selling people?” I accuse him, my voice rising to a fever pitch.

“Whoa, calm down, tiger,” he says, putting his arms up in a placating gesture. “Put the claws away and listen to me for a second.” He pauses the video and turns to me to give me his full attention. “I’m trying to put a stop to it. It’s happening in this city at an alarming rate, and I’m not going to allow it.”

His words instantly make me feel better. I knew Luca wasn’t a good man, per se, but I’m glad to know he’s trying to help instead of exacerbating this growing problem.

“The man you danced with at the costume ball,” he starts.

“Yeah?”

“His name is Constantine Carbone. He’s the one running the human trafficking in the city.”

A shudder rolls through me. I danced with the devil himself, and I didn’t even know it. If I had known what that man was doing and what he was capable of, I would have never let him touch me with those evil hands.

“I’ve been trying to trade him territories where he can sell drugs instead and make one hell of a profit, but he’s not budging. He found his niche, and he’s running with it, making money hand over fist.”

“Is it just women he sells?” I ask.

“Women, men.” Luca hesitates before adding,

“Children.”

I close my eyes and swallow hard past the lump forming in my throat. When I open them again, I look at Luca and tell him vehemently, “You have to stop him, Luca. You can’t let him do this.”

“I’m trying everything in my power to put an end to this. I promise you I will stop him as soon as I can,” he vows.

I nod, taking comfort in his words. Climbing back into his lap, I let him hold me for several minutes while I try to process all the information he just dumped on me. Then, I ask him, “What are you looking for in the footage?”

“Any signs of people coming and going. If anyone is taking food and water to any of the shipping containers.” “Let’s watch it and see if we can figure anything out.” “You don’t want to go back to bed?” he offers.

“No. I want to help.”

He kisses my temple and clicks the keypad to start the video again. “That’s my girl.”

Verona

W

HEN LUCA TOLD me to dress up and that we were going out in the city tonight, I have to admit I was a bit nervous. I took my time getting ready, picking out the perfect dress for a night out on the town.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I turn around several times, making sure I look perfect. The floor-length silver sequin dress fits me perfectly. The front is modest with a scalloped V-neck. But that is where the modesty stops with this dress. Slipping into a matching pair of silver high heels, the slit up the side all the way to my hip reveals my entire leg and thigh. And the back is scandalous as well, dipping almost too low and revealing almost too much.

I decide to wear a matching shawl over it until we get to our destination. I have no idea if we’ll be indoors or outdoors, so I don’t want to get cold.

My makeup is smoky and dark with a pale pink lip, and I decided to wear my hair down in loose waves. Smiling at my reflection, I think Luca will approve of my decisions tonight. Part of me wonders if we’ll even make it to where we’re going.

My core clenches just thinking about how many times he was inside of me today. Too many to count. It’s like he can’t keep his hands off of me. Not that I’m complaining. I want him just as much, maybe even more at times. Even though our marriage was out of convenience, we’re certainly acting like real newlyweds.

I walk out of our bedroom and downstairs, carefully navigating the stairs in my sky-high heels. Luca emerges from his office and stops in his tracks when his eyes meet mine.

I watch him openly peruse my body from head to toe and back again. His tongue slips out to skate over his bottom lip, and I can’t help but be mesmerized by the action.

He’s dressed impeccably in a three-piece tailored suit that fits him perfectly. It’s all black, and he looks dark and dangerous. He fixes an expensive watch on his wrist as he walks over to me; and when he reaches my side, I’m met with a kiss to my cheek.

“You look lovely,” he whispers in my ear before gently biting my earlobe. “Fuck, I wish we didn’t have to go to this thing. I want to stay home, send the staff away and fuck you in every room of this house tonight.”

His dirty words have my thighs squeezing together. “Do we have to go?” I ask, blinking up at him.

The corners of his mouth tilt up in a smile. “My naughty girl. You tempt me so.” Cupping my face in his hands, he kisses me so passionately that my knees threaten to buckle. And just as soon as the kiss began, it ends, leaving me wanting more. “I promised a friend I would attend,” he says begrudgingly. Luca grabs my hand and leads me to the front door. “Let’s go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave, and the sooner I can be inside of you tonight.”

His filthy promise has me buzzing as we climb into the car driven by Benito. On the way, Luca’s hand strokes my bare leg through the slit in my dress. My entire body is buzzing and on fire by the time we arrive.

I’m surprised to see we’ve parked in front of an art gallery. There are people lining the sidewalks, taking pictures, and waiting for the show.

Benito opens the door for us, and Luca climbs out first. Then, he turns back to me, extends his hand and gives me a devastatingly beautiful smile. I take his hand and let him help me out of the backseat of the car.

I decide to leave my shawl behind, and the moment Luca sees the back of my dress, he hisses beside me. “Fuck, honey, if I had known what the back of your dress looked like, you wouldn’t have made it out the front door,” he whispers in my ear before leading me into the huge building with floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors.

Two men swing open the glass doors, allowing us entrance into the gallery. There are only a handful of people including us in the main room. A man dressed in a bedazzled pink and white tie-dye suit comes rushing over the moment he spots Luca. They speak in rapid Italian to each other, and the man air kisses both of Luca’s cheeks before grabbing his hand and shaking it. “Thank you for coming to my show.” Then the man sets his gaze on me from behind his matching pink and white glasses. “And this must be the wife I’ve heard so much about.”

So Luca has been talking about me. I sneak a glance at my husband and can’t help but smile at how uncomfortable he is at being exposed by his friend. I turn my attention back to the artist. “I’m Verona.”

“Verona Vitale,” the man gushes. “Ah, it sounds like a supervillain name. I love it!” he exclaims with a chuckle. “I’m Leonardo Lombardi, but you can call me Leo.” He sweeps his hand around the large room before adding, “Please take a look around before the rest of the people waiting are allowed in. VIP status for a good friend of mine,” he says with a wink to Luca. “I’ll see you both soon,” he tells us before walking over to greet another couple who just walked through the door.

Luca leads me over to the paintings hanging on the wall. They look grandiose and amazing against the plain white wall behind them. Luca holds my hand as we walk. He squeezes it gently and says, “Go ahead and ask. I know you have questions.”

“Many,” I admit with a grin. “Where did you meet someone so…interesting?” I can’t help but ask. Luca seems to attract more of the dark and serious type, so it’s nice to see him with such a bright light in his catalog of friends.

“He used to be a waiter at my favorite restaurant in the city. He was always so depressed, rarely smiled, but he was one hell of a server.”

I can’t see Leonardo Lombardi wearing a dull uniform, waiting on tables. No wonder he was depressed. He seems like he’s larger than life now; happiness personified.

“One day I asked him what he wanted to do with his life besides wait tables. And he told me he wanted to be an artist.” Luca walks to another painting and studies it intently. “I told him to show me his art, and he did.” He smiles fondly at the memory. “Let’s just say I was blown away.”

I look over my shoulder at Leo as he walks around, greeting people with a huge smile on his face. “You helped him, didn’t you?” I ask, turning my attention back to my husband.

“I gave him some contacts in the art world. Set him up with some funds. No big deal,” he says, waving it off like it’s nothing.

But it’s not nothing. He changed this young man’s life. And now look at him – hosting his own art show in a huge New York City gallery. Not many people can say they accomplished that in their lifetime.

I squeeze Luca’s hand and beam up at him. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

He simply shakes his head. “I just threw some money at something, and it worked out.”

“No, it was so much more than that,” I tell him firmly. I stop walking and so does he. When he looks down at me, I can’t help the feelings that are pouring out of me. “You made his life better. Look at him now. Without you, he’d

still be waiting tables and be miserable.” “Verona,” Luca growls.

I know he doesn’t like to be told he is a good man with a heart of gold underneath all of that hard, rough exterior, but I don’t care. First with the human trafficking ring he’s trying to stop and now with Leo… I just want him to know how much he means to me. “I love you, Luca Vitale,” I tell him softly.

His gray eyes widen at my words. A myriad of emotions cross over his face – shock, confusion, and disbelief. He opens his mouth to say something to me, but then Leonardo suddenly announces in a microphone that the show is about to begin.

People from the street begin to flood into the art gallery through the front doors. Luca pulls me close and says, “I want you to pick out a piece that speaks to you.”

Well, it’s not exactly what I wanted to hear, but that’s okay. I didn’t really expect Luca to say the three words back to me. I mean, he might never tell me he loves me. And honestly, I think I’d be okay with that. I know Luca isn’t ever going to be the overly affectionate type or the type of man to confess his feelings for me openly. Not willingly, anyway.

I push all those thoughts aside, though, because I’m more than excited to pick out a painting for our home. It feels like such a normal thing a couple would do, and every

time we do anything normal, it’s ne step closer to feeling like this is a real marriage that can and will work.

We take our time looking at each painting. I’m starting to think I’ll never find one that speaks to me…until I do.

The painting isn’t overly done or extravagant like most of the others. This one is simple. A light gray background with shadows playing around the centerpiece – a gilded birdcage. The door is open. There is no bird in sight, indicating that the bird is free and living its best life somewhere, no longer trapped in its cage.

“This one,” I announce to Luca.

He stops walking and stares at the painting for a long time. Then, he gives me a nod and says, “Yes, this is it.” Squeezing my hand, he looks into my eyes when he tells me, “You’re the bird in this painting, Verona. I never want you to feel trapped or alone again. I want you to always feel free.”

“I feel that way with you,” I tell him, squeezing his hand back.

He tilts his lips into a smile before he tells me, “I’ll make the payment arrangements. Be right back.” He places a chaste kiss on my cheek before leaving me alone with the painting.

The crowd of people has thinned out over the last hour or so, and I feel like I can finally breathe. I’m not used to being around a lot of people. When I lived in boarding school, there were a lot of girls there, but I mostly spent my time alone in my room, reading. And when I lived with my aunt…well, her idea of a fun time was sitting at home, knitting. We hardly ever ventured out unless it was to a thrift shop, and half the time I wasn’t even allowed to buy anything.

Tears fill my eyes as I stare at the painting. I was the bird. I was caged. I wasn’t free.

And Luca changed my life by marrying me. I feel safe with him. I feel like my little, closed-off world opened up into a much bigger and better universe that I never knew existed.

I step closer to the painting that Luca is currently in the process of purchasing and stare in amazement at each and every paint stroke that Leonardo put on the canvas. From far away, the painting looks like a picture. But up close, I can see all of his hard work, his heart and soul that he put into his work.

“Beautiful piece, isn’t it?” asks a deep voice from beside me.

I turn to the stranger, ready to agree with him and maybe brag about how my husband is paying for it as we speak, but then I see a familiar face and freeze. “Constantine Carbone,” I say out loud before I can stop myself.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“I see from the look in your eyes that Luca told you about me since our last meeting.” He smirks darkly. “I guess my reputation really does precede me.”

I go to move away from him, but he reaches out and grabs my arm. It’s not a bruising grip, but it is firm, like I don’t have a choice on whether to run from him or not.

Constantine Carbone is an attractive older man, but the fact that he traffics women and children makes him vile and ugly in my eyes. He’s a cruel and abhorrent monster, and I don’t want to be in his presence a moment longer than I have to.

“The last time we met you were begging for attention from anyone but your husband,” he says, bringing me closer to him. “What changed?” He searches my eyes for answers as I stare up at him, my breathing labored and uneven. “Ah,” he says as if he found the answers in my gaze. “You fell for him.”

With his free hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, grazing my cheek, and I recoil in disgust from is touch. Those hands. So mu h bl od and death on those hands.

He grins at my discomfort. “You know, Verona, if you were mine, I would treat you like a queen. We would travel the world together.”

“And you would pay for it from the blood of the women and children that you sell?” I spit back at him.

He chuckles at my response. “Feisty.” His eyes search mine before he adds, “I like when a woman puts up a fight. No wonder Vitale has kept you.” Leaning down, he runs his tongue along my cheek, tasting my skin. “I bet you taste like heaven and suck cock like a little whore,” he whispers into my ear. “If you wouldn’t want to be mine, I bet I could get a pretty penny for a cunt like yours.”

Grimacing, I pull away from him, hating that I can still feel his touch on my skin. “Stay away from me!” I warn him.

“Or what?” he asks with a smug grin.

“Or this,” Luca’s voice says from beside me. I can hear the gun cocking before I even see it. Luca pulls my back to his front and places a kiss on my temple before raising the gun to his foe. “You know better than to touch what isn’t yours…again, Carbone,” Luca hisses.

I glance around the room and watch several people’s startled faces when they see the gun in my husband’s hand. “Please, Luca. You’re drawing attention.”