Amber's pov:
He heads back inside and leaves me in the cold, his words repeating in my head. I walk into the house after a few minutes. Tesoro?
I rest my head on the silky cushions laying on the bed of the guestroom pondering Alessandro's behavior. He seems to be completely different than I'd expected. I thought that he would be the typical cold-hearted and angry mob boss, but he portrayed himself to be rather sweet.
With these thoughts, I doze off.
The following day:
"Amber, we've got to go." I heard a voice, and I replied without opening my heavy eyelids, "Mhmm...Five more minutes."
"No, sit up, right now." The voice asserts its dominance. I groaned but obeyed it and then, opened my eyes. It was Alessandro. His muscular body was highlighted by the tight, blue suit sitting on him, and one of his large hands carried a thick silver watch that looked like it cost a fortune.
"Don't order me around!" I snap. Alessandro smirks at me, then says, "Tesoro, get used to it, you're my wife now."
"Yes, wife, not your slave." My voice did not sound as confident as I expected it to. Alessandro says, "You should've read the contract properly instead of soaking yourself in the wine."
I gulp. He hands over a glass of electrolyte-packed decoction. I drink it, slowly and he observes my lips, waiting to see what I've got to say. I ask, worried, "What do you mean by that?" Alessandro simply places the contract in front of me and walks out of the room, the empty glass in his hand.
My hands start sweating as I pick up the paper.
I read it; the contract is about our deal, one where as long as I pretend to be his wife, I get to run my gallery. And nothing else. That idiot got me all worked up for a second there, I thought that he had made me sign something unsporting.
Showering and dressing up took up about half an hour of my time, then, I headed outside the room, and down to the marble-top table. There, I saw a girl who shared Alessandro’s hazel eyes.
"Bianca, this is Amber, my wife," Alessandro said without the slightest stutter, he continued, "Amber, this is Bianca, my sister." I wave and smile, feebly. She does not respond.
I tried to make conversation, but she didn't speak, so I didn't push her any further. She left the table and headed outside the main door, hurriedly. Alessandro looked hurt by her actions but he was quick to put on a poker face. Many questions roam around my head, but they don't leave my mouth.
Alessandro says, "Amber, here's your PA, she will be assisting you with the art gallery." A tall woman whose curves are accentuated by her bodycon dress walks in. She displayed her pearly whites as she shook Alessandro's hand.
With a sweet tone, she says, still looking at Alessandro, "It has been so long since we met, I've missed you." He says, "Lilly, meet Amber, my wife, and your boss." Lilly's eyes were filled with rage as she turned toward me.
She says, "Hi. Amber." Great, she seems to hate me already. "Hey!" I try to sound enthusiastic. Alessandro leaves without notice. Lilly whispers, "Amber, here's the thing. Alessandro is not the kind of guy you want to tame. He has a wild beast hidden within him, and trust me once you see that side of him, I don't think you'd want to be with him. Besides, I know him very well, and you're not his type." Harsh, but she might be right.
Nevertheless, I've got to put on a show, so I say, "Lilly, I'd appreciate it if you could keep our relationship strictly professional, we've just met and I am not comfortable with discussing my private life with you."
Her lips move again, "I'm sorry about that, but I've been a part of his private life for quite some time, so I just thought that I'd let you know."
My lips are sealed. Of course, they've slept together. I say, "It would be great if we discuss the art gallery. Whatever you had was a part of the past, and I respect his boundaries. So, this conversation will be restricted between me and my husband."
She orders the chauffeur to drive us to the location. We reach nearly fifteen minutes of awkward silence later.
I always love to start from scratch. I start to think about the various ways in which I can turn this plain and boring space into a ravishing hall. I say, "Lilly, note down my ideas and help me set this place up." She does her work excellently. Now I know why Alessandro hired her.
We work alongside a setting-up studio that we hired. After eight long hours of work, I returned home. Lilly, surprisingly, tagged along.
The table was filled with all kinds of mouth-watering meals. Alessandro was talking to someone over the phone. His tone displayed his anger, “I don’t want to hear anything, just start by plucking his fingers off one by one, maybe then the bastard will answer.”
His words make me feel uncomfortable. Lilly smiles, clearly not paying attention to his words, but rather undressing him with her lust-filled eyes.
I stand in front of her and say, “Lilly, great work! I expect you to keep it up, and be on time tomorrow.” She does not budge, her gaze still fixed on Alessandro.
Ugh. What does she see in him? Sure he’s attractive, his voice is breathtaking and he pretends to be nice, but he kills people and tortures them for a living. To be honest, I should be more worried for myself, after all, he is my so-called husband.
I walk up to Alessandro, who is still engaged in his conversation, and I grab his tie, aggressively. His attention shifts to me, but I don’t know what to do next.
He says, “Ken, call me when you’re done.” He then cuts the call and places his hand on my lower hip and says, “Love, we’ve got a guest in the house.” I bite my lip, nervously. Why did I think that this was a good idea?
I say, “Lilly, do us a favor and leave. My husband and I have some activities planned.” My eyes fixed on Alessandro.
I shoot Lilly a glare and she looks away. Alessandro, making sure that no one can hear us, whispers, “What’re you doing, Amber?” I say, still nervous, “Playing wife.” He chuckles. Then says, “Am I making you nervous?”
I smile and say with a sarcastic tone, “No, not at all, it’s completely normal coming home to your husband and hearing him ordering someone to pluck fingers off of someone.” I feel tingles on my lower back as his grip tightens.
He assures me, “This is not the worst that you’ll hear.” I slide his hands away from my hips and move away. At least Lilly left.
At the dinner table, I ask Alessandro, “Where’s Bianca?” He does not respond. I ask him, again. He says, “I don’t want to talk about her right now.” I don’t push him any further. "I am planning to host the opening of the art gallery next week, on Friday," I tell him, then continue, "It will be a royal-themed ceremony." He says, "That's great."
Amidst the tinkling of our plates, I see a large, white veil covering something attached to the wall at the dead end of the hallway to my left. I think to myself, it might be a painting.
We talk about him, how I should behave with his brother and that sort, but my mind was stuck on the mysterious object hooked to the wall.
I don’t enquire about the veil. Rather, I walk towards it and pull it. As the veil drops to the floor, the painting of Alessandro standing next to another man is uncovered. I was shaken by its beauty. Alessandro looks genuinely happy in this picture. Wow, the man can smile. Then, I observe the man next to him. The man’s facial features match that of Alessandro.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Alessandro’s voice startles me. I say, “The art piece is marvelous. The texture and the color combinations bring it to life. I am admiring it.”
I turned around to face him. His eyes were darker than usual, the same look that I saw the first day I met him. He said, “Walk away.”
“I don’t always do as I’m told.” I don’t know why I said that. He said, “Amber, you’re under MY roof, so I suggest that you do as you’re told.” I clench my fists. His words remind me of my father.
I say, “Alessandro, don’t you dare order me around. I will not pretend to be your wife if you treat me this way.” He smirks, then says, “Do that and I will make sure that any chance you have at establishing an art gallery will be ripped away from you.” Now, he reminds me of my stepmother.
I scoff, “I don’t care about those threats, I’ve heard them too many times.” He says, “Maybe you have, but I take action as well.”
I turn toward the painting. “Who's the man in this picture?” My voice sounds more assertive. "No one important." Alessandro scoffed. I ask, "Is he your father?" He looked taken aback, not because of my question, but rather because of the memories that were flooding his head.
"Leave, Amber." He ordered, but I didn't budge. "Is that Amos Bianchi?" After those words left my mouth, Alessandro's eyes reflected pain. He didn't speak, but rather in a swift motion threw a wooden bowl of fruits at the painting's hook.
As the painting dropped to the floor, the glass coating shattered into a thousand pieces, and the deafening sound scared the life out of me. My breathing rate spiked up and I started to feel dizzy. Alessandro came close to me and gripped my throat, aggressively.
He said, "Take his name again, and I will hurt you." I say, "Let...Let go of m..me." His grip only tightened as I gasped for air.
TW: ViolenceAlessandro’s pov:The blood-curdling memory of my father’s skin being torn apart from his body haunts me. The way his eyeballs are pulled out of his socket. Just thinking about how I was there right in front of him and yet, I couldn’t do anything about it, makes my blood boil.“Ales…Sand…Dro.” Her voice draws me back. As soon as it hits me that I’m hurting her, my grip weakens. I let go of her and walk away; up to my bedroom.I have turned into a monster while hunting down my father’s villains. What I did down there was out of order. My head hurts as I try to bury the memories of my father being tortured.I calm myself down, and after a few hours, I walk outside the room and look down the hallway. She's there.Walking down the stairs, the automated lights turn on one by one. I see Amber, still on the cold floor. Her body shivered. I say, softly, “Amber, I’m sorry.” She does not respond. I carry her up to my room in bridal style. I sprinkle some water on her face as I plac
Alessandro's pov: I order, "Give me a heads up once the snipers are done with their job." I say, calmly, "Amber, follow me." My voice gives her a clear idea about how crucial the matter is. I warn her, "Don't speak, if you do, know that it might be the end of us." She trails my path and we head toward the painting I despise. Next to it, there is a reading corner with a few books and two sturdy chairs. I pull the lever hidden amongst the books. The door next to the painting opens up. Amber gapes at the sight, I push her inside and say, "It is dark inside, just walk ten straight steps, then take a sharp right and sit tight. Here wear these." I hand over a pair of noise-canceling headphones. I hear Giovanni Flavia, the head of the gang. I close the door and seat myself behind the bookstand strategically. I open the trunk hidden under one of the tiles and get a hold of my rifles. I load them, fully and unlock the door again. I step inside and shut it, tight. "AHHHH!" Amber screams. I
Amber's pov:My heart fluttered as his thumb traced my lips. "Alessandro Bianchi!" I heard Harlow scream from the hall. Alessandro rolled his eyes as he stood up and walked away immediately. I could hear them screaming from downstairs. I am proud of myself today, for the first time in a very long, I didn't faint within the first few seconds of hearing the gunshots.Alessandro's protection somehow managed to help me, he did live up to his words.The next morning, the bed seems rather cold, as my eyes open, I notice that Alessandro is gone. "Mrs. Bianchi, today is the day of the masquerade ball. The gathering commences at 7 p.m. and will go on till 9 p.m. I've got outfits for you to choose from, all of them have been hand-picked by Mr. Bianchi," says the lady in black standing in front of me. I go over the dresses and the matching masks.All of them are beautiful in their way. I select an embroidered emerald gown with a matching lace mask. Alessandro would look great in royal green, I t
Amber’s pov:No. No, this can’t be happening right now. “Father!” I greet him cheerfully and hug him before pulling him away to a corner. He is confused. “What are you doing here?” He asks. “I don't have to give you an answer,” I glare at him. “Whatever. You were in close proximity to Alessandro Bianchi, you do know who he is, right?” He asks me, but I don’t reply. “Stay away from that man,” he warns me. “What right have you got to dictate that to me?” I ask. “Just because I kicked you out of the house, doesn't mean you aren't my daughter,” the audacity that he has to say that. I shoot him a dirty look before saying, “Look, Pietro, you have never been a father to me. Ever since my mother passed away, you have buried yourself in work and Gretchen. Not once have you bothered to ask me how I felt, or what I was going through. I was just a child, and yet, I had to deal with it on my own. Art was the only thing I could focus on, but every opportunity I got was stolen from me. Gretchen had
Alessandro’s pov: Today, the sun is shining brighter than usual. The rays of the sun plant themselves on her beautiful face. Her facial features are sharp...Just like her tongue. “Eyes off of me, Mr. Bianchi,” she whispers. “Just trying to get even. You were ogling me yesterday,” I tease her. She doesn't deny it, but rather walks into the bathroom. Yesterday, when her tender fingers stroked my rough chest, my heart pounded like never before. It was rather odd. I lay in bed, hearing her fill the tub, drop her clothes to the floor, and sit herself down in the bathtub. She hums a tune as she plays with the water. I want to walk in on her and…My phone rings and breaks me out of my trance. “Alessandro, you’re alive?” Harlow chuckles. “Pretty much,” I scowl. “Sorry for the smoke bomb brother, it was a borderline mistake,” he says. “I’m over it,” I say as I cut the call. “Alessandro, what happened yesterday?” Amber asks walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel covering her fine
Amber’s pov:I feel a strong pair of arms picking me up, bridal style. My eyelids are too heavy to lift, so I just stay still in his warmth. As my body touches the soft mattress, it is hesitant to let go of the warm embrace. I grip his bare arms strongly and request, “Don’t let go.” His warmth lingers around me until I fall asleep.“Good morning, Tesoro,” he gently kisses my forehead. I caress his cheek with my hand and speak through my yawn, “Good morning.” I open my eyes and realize that I was daydreaming. I can’t wrap anything around my head ever since he kissed me. I felt the need to rip his shirt off him that very minute, but I controlled myself. I shake those thoughts off me as I dress up in a short wrap skirt and a lace top, both black. “Lilly,” I greet her with fake cheerful energy, “Let’s go, shall we?” I ask her. She drags her feet across the room, and out the door, her eyes stuck on my man. I mean, Alessandro. “Lilly, are the invitations set to go out?” I ask her. “Yeah,”
Alessandro’s pov: Amber is unlike any woman that I’ve met before. All the women that I’ve brought here so far had been engrossed with swiping my card for drinks, dresses, jewelry, and whatnot, but here she is working on her hobby, literally standing out of the crowd. Her lips are pressed together, nervously as my hand is set on her waist. “We should call it a night,” she says, standing up and adjusting her skirt. “As you wish,” I say as we climb down the flight of stairs hand in hand. We head back home after a short drive. As usual, she goes to bed while I use the bathtub. I want to ask her why she drew Bianca’s portrait, but maybe she doesn't want anyone to know right now, so I’ll keep it that way. I slip into bed, and we share the same quilt. My hand grabs her fleshy thigh under the sheets. “Alessandro, keep your hands to yourself,” she says trying to escape my grip. “I don’t feel like it,” I tell her, squeezing it harder. Slowly, I move my hand up, tracing every inch of her uppe
Alessandro’s pov:“Got it!” She says holding onto my concealed gun nervously. She places the gun on the stand behind her and walks away with her rosy cheeks and watery eyes. I chuckle to myself and put the gun right back in its place. Damn, this woman is something else. I regain my composure quickly.Ken messages the details of the location. We landed two hours later. “Mr. Bianchi, here’s the bulletproof vest, and the shotguns as you asked,” Garret gears me up after Amber and I exit the jet. “I need a few men as well,” I tell him as I tighten the vest, “But keep them out of the gang’s sight until and unless they make a wrong move.” “Mrs. Bianchi, meet Garret, my inventory man in Romano,” I say as Garret hands over a case to hold the shotgun. “Pleasure to meet you,” he bows down. She smiles at him, and says, “Likewise.” A chauffeur pulls up at the station, and I say, “Amber, Garret will be around you for protection at the hotel, I will be back in a few hours.” She whispers in my ear