Indebted to the Mafia King
Tying the Knot

Tony

I check my watch for the fifth time in less than ten minutes, too anxious to pretend otherwise. Where the fuck are they? I told Armando they should be here before eight in the morning. The courthouse will open to the public after that and my plan will be damned.

I'm in the backseat of one of my blacked out SUVs, this time not my own, in front of the hotel where Chloe is getting ready. I look out the window, noticing a few guests stepping out of the hotel entrance, but there's still no sign of Chloe or Armando.

"Shit, what is taking them so long?" I hiss to myself.

"Should I go and check, Boss?" Franco offers in response from the driver's seat. He's been my driver for the past four years, and he's as reliable, discreet, and tight-lipped as I need him to be. He is so quiet that I had almost forgotten he was here.

That's when I see Armando stepping out, leading Chloe toward us. I'm fucking mesmerized by the sight, so focused on her that I forget I know how to speak for a moment. She looks flawless, with a classy style that makes it seem like she didn't put in much effort at all.

She is the only woman I've ever met who doesn't seem to try too hard. And she fucking knows how to pull it off.

I make a mental note to myself to give a large tip to the team I hired to get her ready. They fucking knew what they were doing.

Chloe is wearing a white pantsuit, custom-tailored for her. I didn't think I'd be able to guess her exact measurements, but man, was I wrong. The fabric embraces her curves perfectly. Her smooth, shiny blonde hair is neatly swept into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her cheeks are rosy, as if kissed by the sun, her blue eyes accentuated by a touch of thin black eyeliner, and her lips.... Fuck, those pink lips will be the death of me.

I shake my head and open the car door, forcing myself to move and stop looking like a fucking teenager who's never slept with a woman before.

"No need, they are here," I tell Franco, finally answering him. I step outside, holding the door open for Chloe. But as she gets close to me, she doesn't acknowledge me, climbing into the car without even glancing at me. I watch as she sits and scoots to the side, but not fast enough for me not to notice the golden ring glimmering on her finger. It feels like a punch straight to my gut.

I recognize it. That's Nicky's engagement ring. I've seen her wear it ever since forever.

Armando clears his throat, drawing my attention to him. "Her mom wasn't very happy when I went to pick her up, Boss," he tells me in a hushed voice. "She almost hit me when she heard I was taking her daughter to the courthouse. She said you should do things the right, traditional way."

I inhale sharply. "I figured as much." Then, after nodding at him, I get back inside the car. Armando will follow us in his car since I need a witness for this and I didn't want to involve more people than necessary.

The ride to the courthouse is fast, however not the least pleasant. Chloe doesn't look at me, or talk to me at all. It gets me thinking how I'm already doing everything wrong, backward. I didn't even get her a ring. Nicky giving hers to Chloe only serves to prove how I'm not made for any of this.

Nonna will be fucking disappointed and pissed at me when she replaces out about this. As my only living relative, she must expect me to marry someone great, to build a happy family, and give her great grandchildren one day. But I can never give her that.

She will understand when I explain to her that this was all for the safety of three innocent people, one of them being a tiny baby, but I know she will be upset either way. But I have no choice. Even if Chloe hates me for it, even if Nonna kills me, and even if Nicky will talk my ear off because of it, I need to remind myself-and them-that this is for everyone's safety. The only other option would be putting the Bertolucci women into hiding, which could take years, and none of us want that.

This thought doesn't make me feel less guilty though. Not when I feel the aura of dismay emanating from Chloe. I'm partially mad at her for not dealing with this in a more mature way, since she was the one who fucking asked for my help, but I can't blame her either. She went through so much; being forced to marry another guy must not be easy for her.

When the car finally gets to the courthouse, I quickly take Chloe inside through the back entrance for employees. Sal had to pull some strings for me, but it worked. The young clerk waiting for us doesn't seem happy to see me though. In fact, he looks slightly terrified, if his pale face and trembling hands are any indicator of it.

Chloe and I get into our spots in front of him as he reads a bunch of useless laws and far-fetched terms about union and companionship, as if life is a fucking fairy tale. I don't pay any attention to it, only answering when I have to.

When I slip Nicky's ring off Chloe's finger and replace it with a delicate white-gold wedding band adorned with an array of gleaming, small, round diamonds, she looks up at me in surprise. It's the first time our eyes meet today, and I feel trapped as if she's cast a spell on me, or has hypnotized me or some shit.

"How did you know my ring size?" she asks softly, her voice almost a murmur.

I shrug, swallowing down the feelings her blue eyes have brought to the surface. "I wasn't drunk enough to have forgotten how your fingers felt in my hair or on my body that night two years ago, but I guess this was just a lucky guess," I tell her with a grin on my lips.

The grin turns into a smirk when I see her blushing furiously. She is so hot, even without trying to be. I was drunk enough to have forgotten most of our night together, but I still have flashes of memory of how she made me feel under her touch. I hate myself to this day for not being able to remember more. Or all of it.

The clerk clears his throat, looking as if he's about to throw up. He wraps this up in record time, which I'm grateful for, and slides the certificate across the counter for us to sign. His hands are still shaking as he hands over the pen to us. Chloe doesn't make a move to grab it, so I do it instead, being the first to sign the document. I just need this to be over and done with as quickly as possible.

Once I've signed, I pass the pen to her. I hate the look on her face. I hate how her fingers are cold as they brush over mine when I hand her the pen. I hate how she looks like an animal trapped in a cage.

Maybe I'm being too hard on her. Maybe I shouldn't have forced her to marry me. Maybe I should have thought more about it and come up with a different solution. No woman dreams of having this kind of wedding. Chloe even less. Knowing what she's been through, I should've been more thoughtful. I should've been more considerate of her.

"You may kiss the bride now, Mr. Bellini," the young man tells me, his voice cracking a little.

Shit, I was hoping we'd be able to skip this part.

I turn to face Chloe, who's still not making eye contact with me, and lean forward. But I don't do what I want to, despite my body screaming at me to take this opportunity. Instead, I peck her on the cheeks, my lips lingering a bit more than necessary on her soft skin. My entire being is begging me to take her in my arms and kiss her like she's never been kissed before in her life. But I can't.

I don't need her to hate me more than she probably already does.

Then I pull back, not daring to look at her again. I don't want to see the hurt and suffering shadowing her beautiful features.

When the clerk dismisses us, I nod to Armando to pay him for his service, then whisk Chloe out and back to the car. We both climb inside, and when I close the door, Armando knocks on my window. I roll it down, looking up at him. "What do you need me to do now, Boss?" he asks.

"Get to Staten Island and have Chloe and Ellie's things moved to my house," I order.

"What about Mrs. Bertolucci?" Armando wants to know.

Chloe remains quiet beside me. I give her a sideways glance, noticing she's picking at her new ring, her head down. I don't know if this is a good sign or not, but I know she's hearing our conversation, so I turn my attention back to my second, being cautious with what I say next.

"Nicky is welcome to come over to the house whenever she wants. And if she really fucking wants to, she can plan a small wedding party. Small," I emphasize.

I feel Chloe tensing up by my side, but I don't address her or make her aware that I have noticed it. Armando nods at me and turns to get to his car.

Then I roll up my window, lean against the headrest, and close my eyes. "Go, Franco," I order, feeling a massive headache starting to make its appearance, and it's not even fucking ten in the morning yet.

I need coffee to get through the rest of this day. Or whisky. Maybe even a cigarette. Whatever I can take to forget about this fiasco.