Nico (Ruin & Revenge #1)(68)
Her nails dug into his scalp, and the pleasure pain almost sent him over the edge. “Okay. Sex can be part of the deal. It helps that I find you somewhat attractive.”
“Somewhat?” He gently bit her nipple, and she gasped.
“Your ego is already so big I have to step around it. I’m not about to feed it anymore.”
“There is no bigger ego boost than having a beautiful woman agree to a fake marriage proposal so she doesn’t have to marry a psychopath,” he said, amused. “Are we done with the conditions?” He eased his thigh between her parted legs. He wanted her so badly he could barely breathe, his body thrumming with a need to claim her so everyone knew she was under his protection.
“Did you kill the Wolf?”
Whoa. He hadn’t seen that one coming in from left field, and it served to take his arousal down a notch. “Business matters are not shared with wives,” he chided gently. “You agreed to follow the rules.”
“I’m not your wife yet.”
“But you will be, and the rules now apply. Ask me any question, bella. Make any demand. But not that.”
She gritted her teeth, pressed her lips together, and he almost regretted what they were about to do. Mia would have to struggle hard to fit into the mold of a Mafia wife, and he didn’t want to see her wings clipped in any way.
“I’ll need a bottle of vodka before the ceremony and one glass.”
Nico kissed her softly; relieved she had backed down on her question about the Wolf. “Just what I always wanted. A drunk bride.”
She laughed, the tension finally leaving her face. “When do you want to do it?”
“It’s Vegas. The question isn’t when can we get married, but how many Elvises do you want at your wedding?”
*
Only one Elvis attended the wedding.
One Elvis. Two witnesses (Kat and Big Joe). Two best men (Luca and Frankie). Three bodyguards, including Louis, who she now knew was a member of Frankie’s crew and went by the nickname Mikey Muscles. And a bridesmaid who wouldn’t stop talking.
“I still can’t believe this.” Jules shook her head as the officiant, an associate of the Toscani crime family, directed Nico where to stand in the tacky Vegas chapel. “One minute I’m chilling with some Netflix and boom, two hours later I’m standing in a chapel with Elvis and bunch of mobsters. Nico sure doesn’t waste any time.” She leaned over and whispered in Mia’s ear. “You don’t have to do this. I can get you out of town. I have friends who will take you in. You never wanted to marry into the mob. Don’t get caught up in it now.”
Fraught with nerves, Mia didn’t even try to respond. Jules hadn’t stopped talking since they arrived at the small wedding chapel that was owned by a “friend” of Nico’s. It was everything she had never imagined her wedding would be. Giant vases filled with plastic plants, fake Grecian columns, an explosion of silk flowers and a raised, red sparkly stage. Pictures of Vegas adorned the cream-colored walls, along with tacky Vegas mementos and a portrait of Elvis in a cheap wooden frame. Behind the stage, a giant pink heart, trimmed with flashing red lights gave the room a perpetual strip-bar glow. With every breath, she inhaled the scents of incense, sweat, and cheap perfume. It was as fake as the marriage was going to be.
Mia smoothed down the hideous polyester dress trimmed in sequins and plastic beads, but there was little she could do to subdue the giant skirt, much less the padded shoulders and huge leg of mutton sleeves. Nico had suggested going for the most traditional dress so no one would have any doubts about the authenticity of the wedding. All fine and good for the man who got to wear a sleek, black tux. Not so good when his idea of traditional meant the victim of an 80s throwback meringue explosion. If Pussy Riot could see her now …
“Oh. My. God.” Jules filled the awkward silence, when the officiant indicated he was ready to begin. “I’m going to cry.”
Kat dabbed her cheeks with a tissue, and Big Joe put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Nico had ordered Big Joe to take Kat to his apartment and guard her after the wedding, but Big Joe had gone one step further and taken Kat under his wing. He had looked after her while Mia and Nico got the marriage license and rental clothes, and posed for the pictures that Mia hoped would never see the light of day. Mia was confidant Kat would be safe with him. He had shown his protective side when he faced off with Rev at the community center, but the whole cop thing was still a worried niggle in her mind. Most mobsters lied to their families about what they did, but Big Joe was such a straight-up guy, so black and white, that it wasn’t hard to imagine he really was a cop.
Still, an unfounded accusation could have serious repercussions. Maybe after the wedding was over and the dust had settled, she would take him aside and get some answers. She liked Big Joe, and if he was an undercover cop, that would give him enough of a warning to get out before she went to Nico with her suspicions. He knew, probably better than her, how Nico dealt with traitors, and if he chose to stay after that, there was nothing else Mia could do.
Even after a couple of shared shots of vodka with Jules, Mia’s pulse pounded when the officiant, a justice of the peace dressed in an Elvis costume, complete with wig and a rhinestone guitar slung across his body, flashed a gold incisor and opened his book.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join Nico Giuseppe Salvatore Toscani and Mia Alessandra Cordano in Holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted by God, signifying unto us the union that is between—“