Page 42 of Crowned in Sin
I keep a neutral smile on my face with each step, and notice how every man is doing their best to keep their eyes focused on Nico and not at me.
I wonder if he’ll actually make good on his threat to bury any man who dares to even look at me.
We've barely made it past the font of holy water when three men peel off from a group near the side aisle, and approach in measured steps. Beside them are three very beautiful women who are wearing clothes that are not the least bit as revealing as mine.
They make a show of their wealth with what looks like color-coordinated Hermes handbags, Louboutin heels, and impossible-to-miss diamond rings and necklaces.
Unlike the men, the women look at me openly. Even from here, I can see the unmistakable judgment in their eyes as they approach.
“Who are they?” I whisper into Nico’s ear.
“My consigliere Dante, my oldest caporegimes Ezio and Benito,” Nico answers me as he nods at each one. “And their newest wives.”
Lovely.
"Don Nico." The oldest one with a broad chest and silver at his temples bows. "Permit me to offer my sincerest congratulations on your wedding."
“Thank you, Dante,” Nico replies. “How is that leg of yours?”
Dante pats his thigh once. “Nothing that a good soak in the hot tub won’t fix. We want to talk to you before mass. Family business.”
Nico’s hand tenses slightly around my waist, and I know that he is being tested for where his priorities belong. Is it reserved for the woman he calls a wife, or is it reserved for the duty he must carry out?
When he doesn’t release me, I put a hand on his arm and tell him. “Go, I’ll manage.”
He looks at me for a second longer than expected. Concern swims to the forefront of his amber eyes. But then, he gives me anod, the warmth of his hand pulls away, and he walks with Dante and the two other men to a more secluded corner.
I catch one word before the noise of the murmuring crowd swallows the rest.
Greeks.
Suddenly, I’m reminded of the fact that to these people, I might as well be wearing a stolen crown that had been promised by a contract to another woman.
The air suddenly starts feeling much colder.
The three wives circle around me like sharks, and I can practically hear the judgment turning in their heads.
They're younger than their husbands, and none of them look a day older than twenty-five. Dante’s wife is a sharp-cheekboned brunette wearing a bright yellow dress that rides higher than mine. She has a cream-colored jacket draping over her shoulders.
The one to her right is a blonde wearing a scandalously low-cut little black dress that exposes her ample cleavage. A thin elegant chain holding her dark blue Hermes clutch runs right through the valley between them. She’s wearing stiletto heels that look more appropriate for a nightclub than for church.
The one to her left is a blonde who is decked out in pink from top to bottom, from the bow in her hair, the ribbons around her heels, and down to the matching pink of her toenails. Her lips are turned in a way that makes me think she once sneered too hard and then her face got stuck like that.
“So you must be the girl that Don Nico chose to marry over Apollonia,” Dante’s wife says as she looks me up and down, andher brow rises when she sees my bared shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Lydia,” I keep my voice even.
“Mila,” she replies, and then points first at the little black dress, and then at the pink blonde. “This is Carina and Talia.”
“Nice to meet you all.”
"We heard so much about you already." Carina tilts her head. “For Don Nico to give up Apollonia, you must be very special.”
“So special,” Talia sighs dramatically and looks at her nails. “Whose family did you say you were from again?”
“I didn’t,” I reply.
“Oh, my mistake then.” She gives me a putrid sweet smile, all pink lips and no teeth. “Would you care to tell us?”
