Scorned Obsession (Scorned Fate)

“You look beautiful, carina.”

I turned to face my dad. The first man I loved with all my heart. He stood at the entrance of the parlor room of my childhood home, the row house on Tenth Street. Handsome in a tuxedo, he held my attention with his eyes. They were glassy with emotion—of pride and the bittersweetness accompanying a day in which he was symbolically letting me go.

He stepped into the room. “The day I held you in my arms for the first time, the way you stole my heart was different from what I had experienced with the boys. With them, I couldn’t wait to teach them to be strong and fiercely protective of family. I didn’t fear the day they would marry because I knew Ava and I would teach them how to be good husbands and how to cherish their wives.”

“Oh, Dad.” I started crying.

“The second I held you in my arms, there was so much love and joy, but also fear. I dreaded this very day. I had convinced myself no man was good enough for my Bianca. No man could treat you better than me, love you better than I ever would.” Dad was in front of me now. And his tears finally escaped his eyes.

“And now?” My voice hitched. It was a rhetorical question. Ever since Sandro rescued me from drowning, it was like a switch had been flicked. An understanding had been forged between them, born from a mutual goal of protecting me.

“You couldn’t have picked a better man.”

I gave a brief laugh through my tears. “I did pick him, didn’t I?” I couldn’t believe my prophecy had come true. That I was marrying Sandro in the wedding of my dreams. No expense was spared. He and Dad argued about who was paying. Dad won. We were marrying in the same cathedral where all the De Luccis said their vows, and were having a wedding reception of eight hundred guests.

Dad reached into his pocket, and when he opened his palm, antique earrings were nestled in it. They belonged to Nonna, Dad’s mom, who I’d never met because she died before I was born. “Ma would have wanted you to have these.” He started fixing one in my ear. He cleared his throat. “It was meant to go to the daughter of her oldest son.” After clasping on the second one, he stood back. “You really are a gorgeous bride.” He compressed his lips together briefly, as if not knowing what to say next. Or maybe he was trying not to make me cry too much so I wouldn’t have puffy eyes for the wedding.

“Thanks, Dad,” I croaked. The features of his face became blurry. “Our bond will always be there.” Dammit, I made myself ugly cry.

Dad cupped my face and pressed a kiss to my forehead. He inhaled a ragged breath, trying to suppress a sob.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” a voice said beside us.

Throughout our father-and-daughter moment, we forgot the photographer was in the room. He was a friend of the family and knew how to be discreet.

I swiped at my eyes. I might have ruined my makeup.

“Cesar, I told you not to make Bianca cry,” Mom admonished, coming back into the room with an entourage of McGraths and De Luccis. Despite how Sandro and Dad got along, Dad was still having the hardest time with the wedding, so they gave us the privacy without the videographer. I was sure Dad would say part of what he said to me during the father-of-the-bride toast.

“Nothing I can’t fix.” My aunt Kelly moved in front of me. I realized how this wedding had come full circle. Kelly was half McGrath and half Rossi and this wedding reunited not only two, but three families. And as Kelly repaired my makeup, I thought back to how the past year had been a year of healing. It started with many funerals and continued with Sandro’s hard work, stepping up as the boss of the Rossi crime family.

Dom recommended a new manager for Club Aristos. The Rossi mansion had sold. There was a bidding war, and the buyer paid fifteen percent more than its original asking price. More soldiers had joined the family and more legitimate businesses had replaced the revenue streams from the toxic assets. But we were a crime family, after all, so the illegal was still there. My eyes fell on my bouquet sitting on the side table. A bouquet made mostly of sunflowers, but their varied faces made me smile. In the mix were the regular bright yellows, while some were streaked darker with black tips. Sandro knew what they meant to me. To live with my husband in the shadows and understand him, I had to be a little dark, a little gritty. I would forever be the sunlight he needed so we could support each other and thrive.

Sandro and I bought a Victorian-era revival residence in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park South. Too small to be called a mansion, yet too big to be called a house. We found the property eight months ago and, being that it was in a historic district, we had to abide by regulations when making upgrades and renovations. It was all worth it. We’d been living there for three months now.

I was still Bianca, just a little tougher. Who was I kidding? I’d become a little gangsta.

“What’s holding everyone up?” Aunt Lottie strutted into the room. “Oh, did Cesar make you cry?”

“She’s ready,” Kelly singsonged. “Uncle Cesar’s children are four for four and married already. When will you be the mama of the bride or groom?”

“Tell me about it,” Lottie grumbled. “I’m the one who loves to plan these things. Maybe I should stop.”

My aunt continued her lament. “What is it about your kids, Cesar? By the time Bianca gets married again to Sandro, three of your children would have been married twice to the same person.”

Everyone laughed because it was true. Renz married Liz twice. Matteo and Sera divorced before getting married again. And now, me and Sandro.

Suddenly, I was eager to see my husband.

On our way out of the house, I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. My face was glowing, and Kelly was really a genius with makeup. One wouldn’t imagine I’d been sobbing half an hour ago.

“Quite a difference.” Renz appeared behind me. He was one of the groomsmen.

“I don’t look like the bride of Dracula anymore?” I teased.

“You look like the princess of fairy tales.” His eyes gleamed as he crooked his elbow. “Shall we, sis?”

Oh my God. My heart was bursting with giddiness, and despite the voluminous skirts of my wedding dress, I’d never felt more lighthearted in my life.

Full circle.

Renz led me to the waiting limo.

Dad slid in beside me and we exchanged looks of contentment and happiness.

When we arrived at the church, the crowd was a blur of golden yellow. I was eager to reach the top of the steps and Dad had to slow me down.

Finally, at the entrance to the cathedral, the man at the end of the aisle commanded all my focus and the air pumping in my lungs. Sandro cut an imposing figure in his tuxedo. Even with the length of the church between us, I could feel the heat, his yearning, and his impatience. We hadn’t seen each other for twenty-four hours. He was still worried that my dad would whisk me away to parts unknown, so much so that he texted me constantly. And that was saying something because Sandro hated texting.

The bridal march started, and I made my way to him. The world receded to just us. And as I moved closer, I could see all the love emanating from his eyes, drawing me to him, and I couldn’t wait to start our life together.

His eyes locked with Dad’s as the priest asked who would give me away.

I didn’t know why I held my breath. I think Sandro did, too.

But when Dad said, “I do,” I breathed easily again. He put my hand into Sandro’s and said, “Take care of her.” Then he leaned in closer. “Or I’ll make you disappear.” I was sure Dad worded his threat mildly for the priest’s benefit.

Sandro emitted a brief chuckle. “I will, and I expect nothing less.”

I rolled my eyes, but did I expect anything different from the two most important men in my life?

Sandro led me to the altar, and we exchanged vows in front of friends and family. I married the man I’d loved for most of my life for the second time.

And when he kissed me?

It exceeded my dreams.

Two years later

Sandro

“You’re so beautiful when you come.” I had Bianca up against the headboard, giving her a third orgasm. I would have given her more, but she begged for my cock.

And she knew every time she said please, I was a goner.

I powered in for one final thrust before I emptied inside her.

Still, sometimes she’d be a bad girl, but I learned quickly enough that was when she wanted to be edged and fucked hard. Delaying her gratification was a game we played, but I hadn’t sunk into her warm pussy in two months.

I was rabid for my wife.

“I missed that so much,” she breathed. “We should do it again.”

“Are you sure, baby? Don’t you have to wake up early tomorrow to help Carlotta with something?”

“Oh, you’re right.” She laughed briefly. “She’s so excited to finally plan a wedding for one of her kids.”

I nuzzled her throat. “I’m finally glad your doctor gave the go-ahead for us to have sex.”

“You’ve been such a good sport.”

“Our daughter kept us busy enough.”

As if on cue, a baby’s cry broke our stolen moment.

Bianca sighed, but a chuckle rumbled deep in my throat. “I got her.” My wife didn’t object and instead stretched languidly and sank into the mattress.

I left the bed and headed to the adjacent room that we converted to a nursery. When I entered the room, I could see our daughter’s arms and legs moving. She was growing too fast. She was responding more to voices and sounds.

It had been a sleepless six weeks. More so for Bianca, because I wasn’t a traditional husband with regular working hours. I couldn’t take a paternity leave. A brief chuckle escaped me at the thought. Tommy and Divina also welcomed a boy six months ago and the poor man had been nodding off at sit-downs. He grumbled we needed to rewrite the family’s code and include paternity leaves. Good thing I functioned on very little sleep.

I walked over to the crib and picked up our daughter. “Hey, baby girl.”

Her cries subsided to gurgles and cooing. I doubted she was hungry, but parenthood had been a learning experience. My throat tightened with emotion as I picked up my daughter.

Admittedly, when Bianca told me she was pregnant, I had the weirdest response. I was the one who couldn’t wait to put a baby inside her, but when it actually happened, a stabbing feeling gored my chest that I was going to have to share my wife. I spent enough time away from her running our organization that I didn’t want to share the time that was devoted to just being with her.

But all that changed the second they put Camilla Rossi in my arms. I’d fallen head over heels in love with the adorable bundle swaddled in pink. It was different from the way I loved Bianca, but the same in a way I wanted to find an isolated island so I could bask in the love of my family of three. Camilla and Bianca’s light shined so fucking bright, my chest rolled each time when I thought of the gift fate awarded me after I’d felt undeserving for thirty-two years.

Not anymore. I wasn’t going to waste the belief Bianca always had in me. I might have lost her faith a couple of times, but I earned it back.

I sensed her before her arms wrapped around my torso.

“I thought you were going to bring her to me,” Bianca murmured.

“I don’t think she’s hungry, baby.”

“Oh, ha!” She moved beside me and stared at Camilla, who had her eyes focused on me. “She’s just fussy now, is she?”

“Yeah.”

“I think she has you wrapped around her finger.”

“I’m understanding Cesar now and I’m dreading the payback when she grows up.”

Bianca laughed and walked over to the dresser. She had brought the carved box of things I’d given her into the nursery. She said she wanted to tell our daughter about our history. Bianca opened the box and retrieved the silver bracelet from its depths. I knew that was one of her favorites.

She nudged me to the rocking chair.

“Do you want to hold her and see if she wants to eat?” I asked.

“No, she’s quiet right now and is enjoying Daddy time.”

Fuck, those chest twitches.

I eased myself into the rocking chair, and Bianca kneeled in front of us.

“I polished this silver cuff today.” My wife held up the shiny trinket. I didn’t have money then to buy her expensive gifts, but that tiny diamond that was set in a gold-plated sun reminded me of what Bianca meant to me. Speaking of expensive, I was thankful my wife kept that huge-ass diamond ring I bought her. She said it marked her rebirth and the night I breathed new life into her. I didn’t gnash my teeth anymore when I thought about the time I almost lost her. It only cemented our bond that had been there since the first time I rescued her in the pool.

Camilla tried to grasp it. Her grip wasn’t strong yet, but she loved to reach for things.

“Did you know the day your dad gave me this was the day I decided I was going to marry him?” Bianca told our daughter, but she was looking at me like I was her entire universe.

Our beautiful love story. It was one for the ages and meant to be shared with the next generation.

“I love you so fucking much,” I rasped with an emotion that choked me.

My wife rolled her lips together, but her throat worked convulsively, as if suppressing the overwhelming feelings that came each time we recalled the hard-fought journey we went through to reach this point.

She stood and hugged us. Father and daughter.

“You’ve always been mine, Sandro.” She pressed a gentle kiss on my mouth. “You have my heart forever.”

“In case you didn’t know, you’ve always been mine, too.”

Forever.