Chapter 3

Massimo's POV. 

I remained rooted to the ground in shock as I took in the sight of my new wife lying on my bed. Anger and arousal coursed through me in equal measures, mixing into one unidentifiable emotion. Anger at her audacity, and arousal just at the mere sight of her between my sheets. Her skin was flushed and dewy, her rosy complexion inspiring unholy thoughts within me. 

“What's the meaning of this? Why the hell are you even here?” I clenched my fists at my side as I asked. 

“If we're going to give anyone the semblance of this being a real marriage, why should we be sleeping in different beds? You're my husband, are you not?” She didn't even look at me, more interested in the patterns on her painted fingernails. 

“You said it yourself, printsessa. This isn't a real marriage,” I prowled closer to the bed, “or do you want me, little wife?” 

I noticed the hitch in her breath, the soft gasp that escaped her parted lips. 

“You want me to touch you, take you, claim you as my own?” I continued, climbing onto the bed and leaning my weight above her, “ruin your sweet little body until you can't take it anymore?” 

“Never,” she whispered, with her pupils dilated and her breathing erratic. 

I smirked. “But that's a lie, printsessa. You're flushed. You're breathing hard. You want this just as much as I do.”

“I'd rather die than want you.”

“Big words,” I rolled over until I was lying beside her, “when you're ready, you'll go back to your room.”

She remained silent beside me, and I thought she had fallen asleep, till I heard a soft laugh. 

“What's funny?” I asked. I wasn't in the best of moods, and knowing that she was lying in my bed just a few inches away from me, wearing nothing but a flimsy scrap of lace wasn't doing anything to improve it at all. 

“Will you even be able to go to sleep like that?” She gestured downwards, where I knew that my erection was making a slight tent in the bed covers. 

I only grunted in response, trying to block out the warmth of her presence and her damn floral scent so I could get some sleep. 

Why was she even here? 

Now, I never had a shortage of women. If I needed anyone in my bed, all I had to do was snap my fingers, and they fell at my feet like mindless drones. 

Why was this spoiled brat different? 

She wasn't as immune to me as she claimed, that was obvious from her reaction earlier. But what game was she playing at here? That was what I couldn't wrap my head around, and I hated being unable to read people. 

I was pulled out of my thoughts by a small hand snaking around me to brush at my front. Before she could make contact with the elastic of my boxer briefs, I yanked her hand away and rolled on top of her before any of us could even blink. 

“What the hell do you think you're playing at, printsessa?” I had both her wrists pinned above her head, every inch of my body pressed to hers.

She gave me a sultry smile in response, “What makes you think I'm playing a game, husband?” 

“This hot and cold attitude of yours. Don't test me, Anastasya. There's only so much a man can take, after all.” I warned her, our breaths intermingling as I spoke. 

“Maybe you're not that much of a man, after all,” she breathed. 

And that was it. 

I crushed my lips to hers, enjoying the way her eyes widened in surprise before slipping shut. I savored the softness of her plump lips, drinking in her candied taste. She moaned softly, parting her lips slightly and I took the chance, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. Hers met mine greedily, a battle for dominance taking place between us. I took her bottom lip between my teeth and nipped it slightly, causing another small moan to escape her lips, a sound which I consumed with fervor. 

I ground my hardness into her, lost in the moment as I left her lips and began to trail kisses along her jaw. 

“Such a good girl for me, aren't you,” I muttered softly into her ear. 

My words seemed to snap her out of whatever daze she had entered, as she opened her eyes and quickly pushed me off her. I chuckled as she gathered the sheets about her to hide her arousal, but there was no denying it was there. 

“This was a mistake,” she muttered to herself repeatedly, before turning to glare at me, her gaze colder than ice. “I told you not to touch me.”

“But you touched me first, printsessa.” I said, not hiding my amusement. 

She snorted and turned her back to me, just as she said, “You may have won this battle, but I'll win the war.”

With equal mirth, I replied, “We'll see about that, little wife.”

The next morning, Anastasya was gone before I woke up, which was surprising as I was a very early riser. The sheets still smelled like her, so I did my best to ignore them as I went about my morning routine. I showered and put on a charcoal grey suit, before heading to my home office where my right hand man, Romeo was already waiting for me. 

“Morning, capo,” he greeted. 

“Good morning, Romeo,” I replied. “Any news?” 

“Nothing boss. Everyone's lying low, for now,” he reported. 

I wasn't sure how fast the news of our new alliance with the Russians was going to spread, or how the other mob families were going to take it, so the longer things remained calm, the better for us. 

Mafia politics were always so complicated. 

“Yeah, one more thing, boss. Your mother said to tell you that there's gonna be a dinner party tonight, in honor of your new wife.” He added just as he was about to leave. 

I felt a headache coming on at his words, but I replied anyway, “Alright, Romeo. Thanks for telling me.”

From their short interaction yesterday, I knew that my mother and Anastasya weren't going to get along well. 

So, what was she trying to prove by throwing a party? 

I pushed all thoughts of my mother and her schemes out of my head and focused on the loads of paperwork in front of me. I didn't keep track of the hours as I worked, and before I knew it, the time for the party had arrived. 

I returned to my wing of the house to freshen up, finding a new black tuxedo on my bed. I rolled my eyes, knowing that it came from my mom, but I put it on to avoid any unnecessary drama. 

I finished and went downstairs, getting a bit impatient as Anastasya was still nowhere to be found. The dinner party was being held at one of the hotels owned by my family, and we were supposed to make an entrance together as husband and wife, but time was running out and she was still nowhere to be found.

I debated going upstairs to her room to see what was holding her up, but I only made it as far as the foot of the staircase before I had to stop short. 

Anastasya stood at the top of the flight of stairs, wearing a dress that could only be described as liquid sin. The red silk hugged her curves before pooling to the ground at her feet, with a deep, plunging neckline leaning little to the imagination. Her lips were painted a similar daring shade of red, contrasting with her pale complexion perfectly. 

My words dried up in my throat as she descended one step at a time, not breaking eye contact with me for even one moment. When she stopped in front of me, those lips pulled into a mischievous smirk as she said, 

“What's the matter, husband? Cat got your tongue?”