Not a Moretti, Now A Ricci

..

LUCA'S POV.

Bloody fuck.

She's poison; every word that came off her lips was no better than venom, and I just kissed her?.

“Are you insane?” She asked. Spitting continuously against the grass, I watched, not moving as she wiped at her lips aggressively and then turned back to face me, her eyes filled with rage.

“You talk too much, Isabella. Weren't you so jealous earlier? What's so hurtful about a kiss?” I  inhaled again, grinning wider, trying to mask my own surprise.

I had kissed her without thinking, and if looks could kill, I bet I'd be dead by now.

“You may be married to this facade we have going on, but if you bloody touch me without my consent again, I'll murder you,” she spat.

A smile stretched on my lips, relieved to see she wasn't thinking too much into the kiss just as I was.

“Fine, are you ready to leave now?” I asked again, turning away before she could catch a glimpse of my broken expression.

She didn't say a word; she stormed past me, finally reducing her pace as we had drawn closer to the event, the reception.

“I need to go home…or at least to the bathroom.” She whispered with a flashy smile; she didn't say anything else but dashed away from the scene. 

I trailed after her until she was away from my line of sight; curiosity gnawed at my heart. She seemed to need the restroom before the kiss; thankfully, she had no interest in being with me so far… but seeing how she reacted barely over a kiss, it irked me off.

“Anything wrong?” One of the bodyguards looming around had asked; I shrugged, nodding negatively while he made his way off me, not wanting to cause a scene.

I had men on me all the time. I increased security after getting married to Isabella. After the spree, I wasn't willing to take chances. Like I said, if the bitch would die, it would be by my hands.

“Did I keep you waiting?” She asked with a feigned smile; I couldn't tell if it was for the public or  for me. 

I glanced over. Her hair down toward her feet, hidden by the long, slitted gown, Damn she is my wife, my jaw thickened at the sight. She was fine—not hurt, not suspicious. Today was a total asset.

She held my arms through my elbows as we walked back towards the car. I didn't need to stay longer because all the men had sensed me; they knew I attended the wedding, and so be it.n I honored the mafia code.

The handle to the door pushed open, and I settled in with Isabella following behind me. The driver glanced backward through the rearview mirror, and I nodded in approval that he could start the drive.

The barricade between the front seat and back was let up by Isabella and me in proximity once again.

Yet I felt her eyes jabbing directly into my soul; I groaned, realizing she wasn't over the entire thing. 

“Loving my lips?” I asked , She  Corked up her brows Frowning even over almost like my words had left a bitter taste down her throat.

“Dying to get another kiss?” I tease leaning into the chair. “I'm sorry “, I whispered the words, letting them off my lips with unease.

A frown comforts her face. She's shocked at my brief apology, although curt, but even I hadn't expected such gentility to my words. 

“Off your high horses?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. I said nothing, arching my brows as I listened to her words, fuelled with even deeper irritation..

“Well then let's call it even; you spared my brother's life. Made an apology, i'll let you off. This once I guess there's some manners to that rotten head of yours,” she chirped in. 

My eyes widened. Almost ripping off their sockets as she reached for a gun in her thong, she pulled it out and reached towards my grasp.

Shoving it against my chest, I unclasped it and checked it, and damn right, it had  bullets in it.

“You…” I called, my voice trailing out weakly in the end,

She had a proud smile on her face, tucking the fallen strands of hair behind her ears. 

“Would you have shot me?” I asked, and she nodded with a gloat, taking me by awe.

“I could have, right? But I didn't; it's fair,” she slurred again, turning to face me. I swallowed a bitter lump in my throat, my Adam's apple bobbing up and down as I registered the look on her face.

She could have shot me,

She had the chance,

Where had she swiped the gun from? I had no idea, but she hated the kiss. She hated me, but the kiss was a line. I shouldn't have crossed,  she really would have shot me, 

This woman would never fall for me. Isabella wasn't just a dog or a pawn; she was a wolf. On her own with her instincts, she could have emptied the bullets into my skull, but she chose not to.

I could have died, 

With the guard surrounding me, my training skills, my wealth, and fame. But I could have bloody died just now.

I stroked my jawline, emptying the bullet into my hands, tracing them around my thumb slowly.

“First rule about being a Ricci Isabella,“ I whispered, arching closer to her. I clasped my palms around her cheeks, pressing her jaws tight enough for a whince  to ease through. 

“No mercy... You are my wife; you are Ricci. We show no mercy; you get a shot at the enemy, and you take it… Alessia knew this much; she didn't hesitate to put a bullet through my belly” , I retorted, yanking her by the arm.

She was in pain; the force I held her jaw in was too tight, but no… I didn't want her going soft on me. I squeezed even harder, raising my shirt slowly with her fingers tingling right beneath my belly button.

She tensed up, feeling the little scar, which was all healed up.

“She's shot me... Alessia didn't hesitate, and I'm damn proud of  her, are you wondering why youd never amounts to anything. Because you are still a damn weakling at heart, just like your father, too weak to protect your mother, he left her to die! And poor matteo  has a nutjob for a sister, a fucked-up one.”

She winced, tears stinging her eyes, probably from the pain of my words, not from the physical harm. 

I loosen my grip, adjusted back in my seat, tossing the empty gun to her. 

“There… The next time you show a sign of weakness, I'll have your legs severed as punishment… you are done being a moretti, you are a Ricci  now, Isabella Ricci,  Wrap up the sentimental shit; next time you get a chance, don’t you fucking hesitate to put a bullet through my skull, wifey. Sì?”

She nodded, sniffed, clenching her fists  “understood,” she responded in between gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with fury just as I wanted.

She needed to hate me; I needed her hatred.