Sold to Mr. Giordano

Antonio

I could hear both my cousin and Arielle crying last night. I was tempted to barge into their rooms and show them something to really be scared about. Tomorrow is the wedding, I have no last minute jitters, no cold feet, in fact I feel nothing. This is for the sake of the Outfit and unlike some people, I know my responsibility as Capo. I need Marco’s men, he sent me twenty of them and already four are dead. The Russians are advancing and the other night we retaliated. I knew how he feels about his daughter, before he did something wrong to her I preferred to brought her, now I got a point on manipulating Marco. Working for the Ricci’s was a part of my mastermind plan.

The night I came home so lost out of my mind that I almost raped my fiancée was a bad night. We had gone to the warehouse where the Russians were, and slaughtered them. I lost one of my best men—a childhood friend. But that’s the business. There was so much blood, torture, and death. I spent over an hour tearing apart one of the leaders, I tore off every one of his fucking fingernails with my knife, as I pounded his face in with my fists, he provided the wonderful opportunity for me to cut his tongue out. He must’ve found out about my marriage—news travels fast. He said he saw Arielle out with Carmelo and made it a point to tell me how hot she is and how if he got his hands on her he would ‘fuck her bloody.’

After I cut his tongue out, I fed him his own dick too.

One of my men picked up my tux for me, I hang it up in my closet and stare at it. I start to picture what Arielle will look like in her white gown. She’s been fucking crying all day shouting to Arabella how much she doesn’t want to marry me. Couldn’t blame her, I can’t promise her a loving relationship, I can’t promise to be gentle with her, and I definitely can’t fucking promise she’ll be happy. The only thing I can say and mean, is that I will protect her at all costs.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

There’s a knock on my door and I groan shutting my closet and sitting down in one of the chairs near my fireplace. I pour myself a drink—I’ll probably need it. “Come in,” I command.

“Hey,” Arabella enters and shuts the door behind her.

“What can I help you with?” I cross my leg, lean back, and sip my glass of bourbon. I know what she’s here for, but I’ll entertain whatever she’s conjured up in her mind.

“Is there anything you can do to call off this wedding tomorrow?”

“No,” even if there was, I wouldn’t do it. “Is she still crying over this?”

“Of course she is, she thinks her freedom ends tomorrow.”

“Her freedom? Have I once said that I was going to lock her up in this penthouse? She can go wherever she wants… as long as Carmelo is there to accompany her.”

“She wants to go to college.”

“Then she can go.”

“She wants to make a career for herself.”

“So let her.”

Arabella stutters trying to think of another reason why Arielle truly doesn’t want to marry me.

“Or is it that she doesn’t want to have to bear my touch? Why do I have a feeling if our marriage didn’t consist of sex, she’d be okay with it?”

“She’s nineteen.”

“She is nineteen. She is an adult, I had sex younger than her and I believe you did as well too. I never heard Vincenzo ever complain that you hated your time spent in bed,” I give her a pointed look. “She’s scared because she’s a virgin—”

“You’re going to be rough on her!”

I raise my voice annoyed that I was interrupted, “She’s scared because she’s a virgin and believes it will hurt, but you and I both know that after the first two times it’s very pleasurable for women. I’ve never had one dissatisfied.”

“Xander, why can’t you just—”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Arabella. She will be my wife and as my wife, I have a right to her body. You can come up with all these silly excuses but you and I both know she doesn’t want it because she’s hung up on the notion of losing her virginity by making love.”

“Can you at least try to act like you care about how she feels?”

“She will get over it.” I down the rest of my drink. “This conversation is over. Take Arielle to the spa to help her relax. I have business.” I dismiss her and head to my bathroom to rinse some cold water on my face.

These women are infuriating. I’ve never had trouble picking up girls, I lost my virginity when I turned  thirteen. Being a Made Men means you have many advantages, it is the title given to you when you make your first kill. I had my first kill when I was eleven, and two years after hearing stories of men fucking women, I decided I no longer wanted to be virgin. The Made Men gave me my pick of prostitutes to take to my bed on my birthday. I took one after the other learning all kinds of things. I did it missionary the first time and didn’t last long, then I ate the whore out, then I fucked her from behind, fucked her in the ass, did it all.

Fucking Arielle with her innocence, a near twenty year old woman and she is afraid of sex like a child. She is afraid of a natural, primal feeling, it makes me wonder if she’s ever touched herself or made herself orgasm. I sure as hell know she’s gotten aroused. It’ll hurt her first time but I won’t make it as painful as she believes and soon after she’ll be begging me for sex.

Yes, I’ve already thought of so many ways I’m going to take her on our wedding night. She won’t even remember why she was so scared to begin with. The poor girl won’t even remember her own name when I’m through with her.

I don’t have time to sit here and think. I’m tired of thinking and looking at this fucking white room. I grab my cell phone and call Rocco.

“I’m coming in.”

“No, boss. It’s your day off, it’s your wedding tomorrow.”

“Fuck that. I need to get out of here and kill something. I’m coming on the mission with you.”

 “Xander…”

 “Don’t Xander me.”

“We got men on it, Angelo is leading a group of seven. I hate to admit it but he’s a damn good soldier.”

“He’s the fucking New York Capo’s son, no shit he’s good.”

“Too bad Arabella isn’t marrying him. We could use him here in Chicago for good.”

“Even if Arabella was marrying him, he’d have to go back to New York.”

“Everything is taken care of Xander. The only thing you would be doing here is paperwork and meetings. Here, why don’t we go to the club, hit the casino downstairs, and maybe throw a small bachelor party to get you unwound if you know what I mean.”

I pause and debate whether to say yes or not. I know exactly what “unwound” means, he was probably going to pay some whore to suck my dick. A good person would refuse, but I’m not a good person and I’d really like my dick sucked. “Fine. I’ll be there in two hours.” I hang up the phone and take a long shower.