POV : Matteo
Aiden, James and I were never "friends" per se. But once upon a time, when we were all at Knightsblood University together, we were at least… cordial. Knightsblood has four student clubs, and the three of us happened to be the presidents of three of them at the same time: Aiden was head of The Reckless, James ran Para Bellum, and I was at the top of the Ouroboros Society.
Then Kara died, and it all went to shit.
We haven't spoken or seen each other face to face since. Though they're both
members of Venom, which means they haven't considered the fact that I vet every single member. Or else they have and they just don't care.
James and the lovely and formidable Taylor Crown, the third founding partner of Crown and Black, mostly come to Venom for business reasons: to show prospective clients a good time, or to assure the dangerous people they've been representing these days that they can "hang" with the bad guys.
Aiden comes for business reasons, too. But he also comes to play. Hey, no judgement.
Still, today will be interesting, to say the least. Not only is it the first time we'll be seeing each other live and in person since what happened all those years ago. But also I'll be casually letting them know that, oh, by the way, I'm going to be marrying their eighteen-year-old aunt.
Yeah, this should certainly be an interesting experience for everyone involved.
Two guards at the top of the front steps of the house pat me down and then let me through. Inside, a butler bows silently, then ushers me through the lavish foyer toward a closed set of wooden double doors.
"Does she know!?"
I tense, stopping cold at the shrill scream coming from the other side of the doors. It's a woman's voice, but it's too old to be Aria, and I know for a fact that Frederick' gold-digging wife, Caroline, is in Rio right now spending her husband's money on a butt lift.
She's probably also fucking every cabana boy on Ipanema, given that back home, she's chained to Frederick' wrinkly old dick. But I digress.
"Aria is well aware of what her duty to this family entails—Tempest!"
Aaah. Yes. So it's the fourth Black sibling, Tempest, who's raging like… well, a tempest.
She's also the member of the Black family about whom I know the least.
James and Aiden I've studied like a scientist. I know Aiden isn't really as dark-hearted as he'd like the world to think, and about his adoption when he was three. And I know James isn't as good as he'd like the world to think, as well as all about his political aspirations that he won't admit to anyone.
And of course, I knew Kara. Probably too well.
Too well to save her, anyway.
But Tempest? She's an unknown to me. All I know is, she's eleven years younger than her brothers, doesn't work, and by all accounts is just sort of a trust fund kid living off James and Aiden's dime. She's probably in Frederick' pocket, too—
" Go to hell, Frederick!" My brow cocks.
Okay, maybe NOT on Team Frederick…
"You and that sick psychopath Matteo!"
I scowl, and just as I'm about to open the door and make my entrance, they fly open in my face. Something small, soft, freckled, wearing thick black eyeliner and with her dark hair piled up on her head, dressed in a vaguely gothy all-black ensemble consisting of a turtleneck, shiny black leggings, and heeled black ankle boots with buckles and pointy toes, comes barreling into my chest.
She gasps sharply, stumbling back from me. As if on instinct, my hands shoot out, my strong fingers curling around her too-thin wrists and latching on tightly.
Before I know what I'm doing, I'm yanking her up to stop her from falling, and right into my chest.
Her breath catches. Her big greenish-hazel eyes with the too-thick eyeliner drag up to mine.
When they reach their destination, she doesn't quail. She doesn't flinch or look scared.
She looks angry. Wrathful. Indignant that I've had the gall to stop her from falling on her fucking ass.
Tempest is indeed well named.
She glares at me, her glowing hazel-green eyes set deep in the sea of black around them. Her face is very pale, and it's not just her wrists that seem too thin. All of her seems too thin.
"Speak of the devil…" I growl quietly.
Tempest glares venomously at me and moves as if to yank her arms back. But I just grip her soft wrists a bit tighter.
"And he shall appear."
Her chin juts defiantly. Her mouth purses.
"Now: I do hope I haven't missed the surprise?"
I'm neither an idiot, nor a hothead. The wise move here would be to defuse the tensions of the room as quickly as possible and tackle this like rational adults. Except I'm not thinking rationally. One, because I don't like being called a "sick psychopath", especially behind my back. Two, because I really don't appreciate the way James and Aiden seem to be barely holding themselves back from physically attacking me.
But the third and biggest reason for the implosion of my rational thinking is the one I never saw coming.
It's her.
And I don't know why.
I mean the girl is looking at me like she's trying to decide if she'd get more pleasure from stabbing me in the eye or in the dick-hole. She's also dressed like she's about to go on stage and sing backups for The Cure or Morrissey. She's too short and too thin for my tastes. Too gothy. Too…stabby-looking.
And yet…
There's a hum that sparks off her skin into my fingertips; a something that the nearness of her does to me.
Fuck.
It's attraction.
That's very inconvenient, given that I'm about to marry her aunt. Not to mention her obvious interest in putting out cigarettes on my balls or pushing sharp pointy things into the soft parts of my anatomy.
I need whatever this is to get the fuck out of my system right fucking now— "Get your fucking hands off of me, you pedo piece of shit."
And a solution presents itself…
Instantly, the way I'm rapidly drowning in the nearness of her vanishes. My pulse thudding in my ears goes silent. The blood leaves my rapidly swelling dick.
"Excuse me?"
Tempest glares at me, twisting her wrists and finally yanking them free. She takes a step back, then another, crossing her arms over her chest and sneering at me as she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth.
"You heard me."
"Tempest!" Frederick snaps, quickly marching over to us. He shoves her aside, shooting her a menacing glare before turning to beam at me ingratiatingly like the oily, self-serving little fuck that he is.
"Mr. Belluci, welcome to my home." He sticks out a hand, which I reluctantly take. "Let me just say, I think this arrangement is going to be fantastic for the both of us, and I'm excited for our families to be—"
"What the fuck did you call me?"
I ignore Frederick, leveling a withering look at Tempest behind him. She just shrugs.
"I called you what you are. You're marrying a fucking child, aren't you?"
"Surely, growing up in the family you did, you are familiar with the concept of an arranged marriage. And your aunt is eighteen years old."
"Been marking the days down on your calendar, have you?" Aiden hisses quietly.
I sigh as I raise my eyes to him. "Lovely to see you again too, Aiden," I say, with all the sincerity of a rich celebrity talking about ending poverty.
"Go fuck yourself, Matteo," he throws back.
"Now now, that's go fuck yourself Uncle Matteo these days, isn't it?"
A vein pops out on Aiden's forehead. His mouth draws to a vicious line. Miraculously, he holds it together.
"In through the nose, out through the mouth, Aiden," I croon. "In…and out. In…and out. Serenity now. Serenity—"
"If your goal in coming here is to get punched in the face, I can do that right now and save us all a lot of time, Matteo," James growls quietly.
"Nah, his goal in coming here is to fuck young girls who are barely—" "ENOUGH."
My roar silences Aiden and James without much of a flinch on either of their faces. More importantly, it makes Tempest shudder from head to toe and momentarily wipes that little Wednesday Addams sneer off her face.
For a split second, she actually looks scared.
I smile to myself, enjoying the win of piercing her sarcastic little armor. "If you're done insulting me—"
"I could go all night—"
She jolts as I march past her grandfather right into her personal space.
"Touch her," James growls, "and we'll have
a very large problem on our hands."
I shoot him an icy smile. "I'm sure the legal motion will be simply breathtaking, James. But I have no intention or indeed the least bit of interest in touching your dear sister Hurricane here."
"It's Tempest," she hisses.
I relish the tremor she barely chokes back as I turn to level the full weight of my cold blue eyes on her as I loom over her.
"I really don't care. And let's be perfectly clear on something, shall we?" I smile darkly at her. "I don't give one single fuck if you like me or not. In fact, I hope you don't, so that you stay away from me with that stabby fucking look on your face. Are we clear?"
Her answer is a silent purse of her lips and a shiver she can't quite hide.
"Wonderful. Now, two things. One," I tick it off on my fingers right in front of her face. "I have no interest in doing a thing with your fucking aunt. I'm thirty-four years old, she's eighteen, and, spoiler, I guess it turns out I'm attracted to women, not girls. Two, arranged marriages aren't about getting laid, they're for political clout, treaties, or business. That is all this is, capice?"
"Go fuck—"
She gasps as I stop my outthrust finger from just touching her lips.
"Resist the urge to always need to have the last word, little Hurricane. Mouths were built to be shut at times, as strange a concept as that may be to you."
Tempest looks at me like she wants to drive her knee into my balls.
"Why are you marrying Aria, Matteo," James mutters quietly. "You're obviously not in love with her, since you don't even know her. And your eloquent speech just now on your lack of physical intentions is…whatever. So, why?" "Reasons."
He glares at me. "Care to specify?" "Not especially."
Frederick laughs nervously at the ensuing silence and clasps his hands together. "Just ironing out the wrinkles, I suppose, yes?"
Sure.
"Anyway, I'm sure you'd like to meet Aria—
"
I allow myself to enjoy the chaos of all three of his grandchildren sputtering and bellowing about the injustice of it all, what a piece of shit I am, and what a monster Frederick is, blah blah blah, for another twenty seconds or so before I hold up a hand.
"Actually, Frederick, no. I just wanted to stop by today and meet my new niece and nephews."
The three of them glare pure death at me as I smile beatifically at them.
"I'm sure Aria and I will have plenty of time later to get to know one another."
Tempest's eyes narrow dangerously at me. Before she can open her mouth again, Frederick clears his throat.
"Tempest, why don't you run upstairs to your aunt and tell her all about Mr. Belluci?"
Tempest shoots me a cold look.
"You know what? That's a great idea. I'd rather be literally anywhere else in the world but in the same room as you."
"The feeling is quite mutual," I smile.
She wrinkles her nose, holding her head up high as she moves to walk past me. But just as she does, I turn to the side, grabbing her wrist tightly in such a way that her brothers can't see.
"Play nice, little cyclone," I murmur quietly into her ear as she stiffens under my touch. "Or I'm sure I could be persuaded to rethink my position on sleeping with eighteen-year-old aunts."
The fire in her eyes when she whips around to face me is scorching enough to burn. Half of me expects her to attack me. But in a frankly stunning show of self-control, she just curls her lips and leans in close.
"If you touch Aria, I'll fuck you." She smiles sweetly. "With a claw hammer. 'Capice'?"
Then she turns and strides out of the room, letting the doors slam shut behind her.
Frederick awkwardly clears his throat. "Well, my apologies for—" "Let's move on, shall we?"
He smiles. "Agreed. And, since we've got the lawyers here, should we look quickly at the premarital contracts?"
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. As if I have any interest in taking anything from Frederick. But fine, sure; we can go over whatever ridiculous prenuptial bullshit he's concocted. His two grandsons immediately start poring over the paperwork he whips out, while occasionally glaring at me like they want to shove me out a convenient window.
Infuriatingly, a certain black cloud keeps blowing intrusively into my thoughts, distracting me from the meeting. A black cloud with way too much eyeliner, a mouth full of poison, and a toxic tongue.
A black cloud who, unbelievably, has my cock throbbing against the front of my suit pants for the next twenty minutes.
When I finally leave with a greasy fond farewell from Frederick and two frosty "go get hit by a fucking car" looks from Aiden and James, I head back outside to where Carmy is waiting. When I find him leaningWhen I find him leaning against the side of the SUV with a cigarette dangling from his lips, I frown at what I see scratched into the paint next to him.
"If that was you, it's not the least bit amusing, and you're paying to fix it." "Not me," he exhales slowly, eying me coolly.
"Well?"
"Goth chick in black, about yea big." He holds his hand up, chest height. My jaw clenches.
Goddamn her.
"She used one of the rocks from the driveway."
I stare at Carmy. "And where the fuck were you?" "Me?" He shrugs. "I was in the car, buddy."
I blink. "And you just…let her do this?"
"I make a point of not getting between scary goth girls with improvised weapons in their hands and the target of their angst. You should try it. You'll live longer."
I pinch the bridge of my nose and glare at the "i like to fuck teenagers" scratched into the side of the SUV.
"She went back inside the house afterward, if you're looking to make a thing out of it."
If by "a thing" he means throttling her with my bare hands while fucking the living shit out of her , then…
I frown.
Whoa, you gotta chill out with that, friend.
"There's some duct tape in the glove compartment," I mutter to Carmy. "Feel like making yourself useful?"
I wince when the roll of tape comes flying over the roof and smacks me in the shoulder.
"Sorry, man," Carmy grins. "I'm the crown prince. I don't make myself useful to anyone. 'Sides, it's your car."
I flip him off as I tear a piece of tape from the roll and slap it over the worst of the words scratched into the car.
"They know why it is you're marrying the kid?"
I shake my head. "Figured there wasn't much need to show all the cards."
"Probably smart. They could use it as leverage and try and get more out of the deal." When he clears his throat, I look up to see him finishing his smoke and stomping it out on the gravely driveway. "They, uh…they still hate you for what happened to that girl?"
"Her name was Kara," I growl quietly. "And they most certainly do." "You know, a simple conversation would clear that up—"
"I gave my word, Carmy," I murmur.
"I know, buddy." He walks around the front of the car and claps me on the shoulder. "I'm just saying, I think it would help, given that you're about to marry into a family that fucking hates you."
"It probably would."
We both get in the duct-taped Range Rover and I rev the engine.
"Aiden and James are all bark, to be honest," Carmy frowns, glancing out the window up at the house as I start to pull away.
"But that one chick… she's gonna be a problem."
"Sure is."
More than you fucking know…