Arranged Mafia Marriage

Christian

“What the hell? Where are you going?” I call out after her, “Stop, Aurora.”

She hightails it up the slope and through the trees. I take off after her just as the snow begins to come down in earnest. I swipe at the flakes that cling to my cheeks, blink away those that cling to my eyelashes. For someone who struggled to keep up with me, she’s definitely hot-footing it. I increase my speed and begin to gain on her; that’s when she disappears behind a particularly thick wall of shrubs. “Cazzo!” I push through the bushes and burst into a clearing. I race forward, my steps sinking into the snow. My foot slips on ice, and I manage to right myself. I slow down, and ahead of me, Aurora, too, loses speed. She continues to walk forward, putting distance between us.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I yell. “I won’t stop until I get my hands on you, and when I do, I promise, I’m going to spank your ass so hard that you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

She holds up her middle finger, and I can’t stop the chuckle that bursts from my mouth.

“If you think you can scare me, think again, asshole,” she throws at me over her shoulder. “I don’t answer to anyone, and certainly not you.”

“The ring on your hand says otherwise.”

“This one?” She half angles her body, so I have a clear view of her pulling my ring off of her finger.

Anger threads through my veins.

“Don’t you fucking take that off, Flower, you hear me.”

“Loud and clear.” She tosses the ring up in the air once, then catches it and flings it over her head. A ray of sunshine breaks through the clouds, illuminating the yellow sapphire, which sparkles before the ring hits the snow and vanishes out of sight. The sun disappears behind the cloud, and the snow seems to thicken. There’s an ominous crackling sound, and I glance down to find I’m standing on the surface of the pond. Tiny fissures seem to be expanding around me.

“Fuck!” I growl. I should have paid more attention to where we were going, and this, after Cassandra had explicitly warned us not to go onto the pond. “Aurora, don’t move,” I call out. The snowflakes seem to thicken, and the visibility shrinks further. I see her figure through the blizzard, the white already settling over her, lending her features a luminous glow.

“Christian,” she calls out, her voice shrill, “what am I going to do?”

“I’ll come to you.” I take a step forward, and the ice holds. Another step and I can see that the ice is thinning. A third and I hear a crack.

She screams as she topples over; the sound cuts off when she hits the surface of the water. My heart slams into my rib-cage. At least, the water is shallow so there is no fear of her drowning. “Hold on,” I yell as I inch forward slowly.

She pushes up to standing, and the water reaches up to her waist, “J-Jesus… This is freakin’ c-cold.” Her teeth chatter so loudly I can hear them even from this distance.

She takes a step in my direction, then stumbles and falls into the water again.

“Fuck,” I swear, take a step forward, then another. The ice seems to hold, thank fuck. I push forward as quickly as I can, all the while trying my best not to crack the surface of the ice further.

By the time I reach her, she’s standing again.

The wind whipping across the surface of the pond crashes into me, fuck! It has to be so much colder for her, since she’s wet.

She drags herself onto the surface of the ice which creaks under her weight. “Chr-Christian, p-please help me!” Her voice trembles.

“Hold on,” I call back. Adrenaline laces my blood. My breath comes in pants. I need to get to her.

I lower myself onto my stomach to distribute my weight evenly then belly crawl forward. When I am as close as I dare get to her, I swipe out my arm in her direction. She grips my hand, and I haul her toward me. The piece of ice where she was gives way, and she screams, “Christian!”

“I’ve got you.” I hold her gaze, as I tug her forward. Simultaneously, I slide back toward the thicker ice near the edge of the pond.

Her gaze is wide, her skin pale; her lips are already turning blue. Fuck, I need to get her out into warmth before hypothermia sets in.

“Omigod, omigod, Christian”-she babbles-“d-don’t let g-go of me.”

“I won’t.” I grip her hand as I draw her forward. I rise to my feet slowly and the ice holds. Thank fuck. I draw her up, take a step back pulling her along with me. Another few steps, and she pauses. “I’m … so … so … cold.” She shivers.

“Just a few more steps. We are almost on firm ground,” I coax. “Come on, Flower.”

“I … I c-can’t,” she whines. “I’m too c-cold.”

“Give me your other hand,” I growl.

“I … I c-can’t,” she hiccups.

“Yes, you can.”

“I am … free … z … ing.” Her lips tremble.

“I’ll get you to warmth, I promise. Give me your other hand. Now!” Even before the words are out of my mouth, she raises her free hand. I grab it and haul her toward me as I move back.

My foot touches firm ground, thank fuck. I step off of the pond and onto the shore and yank her forward. She stumbles toward me, and I haul her into my arms.

A tremor grips her, and her teeth chatter. Her skin has definitely turned a shade of blue.

“Porca miseria.” I pull off her scarf, toss it aside, then reach for her wet jacket and peel it off. She stands quietly as I push it down her shoulders and onto the ground.

When I reach for the sodden sweater she’s wearing inside, she protests. “Wh-what are you d-doing?”

“Taking off your wet clothes so you don’t catch hypothermia. You’re a doctor; you should know that.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders slump. She doesn’t say another word as I peel off her sweater. She’s wearing a shirt inside. I shrug off my jacket which is dry-thank fuck-and drape it over her shoulders. Then snatch my hat off of my head and place it on hers.

A trembling grips her and she sneezes.

Cazzo, I need to get her to warmth right now. I grab her clothes off of the ground before I haul her up in my arms, then push forward until I reach a wall of bushes. I step through them, then pause. The snow seems to increase in intensity. A particularly big piece of ice slaps into my face, and I flinch. I hunch my body over hers, trying to protect her the best I can.

She stirs, then murmurs, “W-where are we?” She coughs and her entire body shudders. It seems to set off a bout of shivering, and she huddles closer to me.

I glance around. Which way did we come? Damn it, why wasn’t I more cognizant of our surroundings? I juggle her around until I manage to pull my phone out of my jacket pocket. I try to turn it on, but of course, the battery is dead. I had been wearing a waterproof jacket, and while I had belly crawled on the frozen surface of the lake, I hadn’t gotten drenched the way Theresa had. So that should’t have affected the phone. Did I remember to charge the device, though? I can’t remember now.

“Your phone,” I ask her, “do you have it?”

“In my p-po…cket,” she says through her chattering teeth.

Cazzo, I need to get us to warmth before she comes down with pneumonia. I reach for her jeans pocket, but can’t find the phone. Feel my way around to the other side and pull out her phone, but it’s also dead.

Fuck,” I growl, “fuckin’ fuck.”

“Wh-what are we g-going to do?” She presses her lips, which have already turned blue.

I glance around, spot a break in the trees, and head for it.

Another burst of shivering grips her. A moan spills from her lips. “C-cold… I’m so … c-cold, Ch-christ… ian.” She shudders.

I break into a run. My lungs burn, and my breath catches in my throat. Her wet clothes slap against my thigh, the cold penetrating through my skin, into my bones, and I swear, I can feel my blood freeze. I reach the break in the trees and find a path. Finally, fuck. I race up the path which winds and turns.

“Wh-where are we g-going?” she asks.

“Back to the chalets, I hope.”

“Th-this isn’t the w-way … we c-came.” By now, her shivering is constant.

“Yeah, I figured that out a few minutes ago.”

“So w-why are you s-still-”

“Running? Because it’s better than freezing to death standing in place. And if there’s a path, surely, it must lead somewhere?”

I continue to jog, trying to hold her as close as possible. Her wet clothes weigh me down while my boots make every step an ordeal. My thigh muscles protest and my feet are so numb I can barely manage to grip the surface of the path with my soles. My shoulders hurt; my lungs scream for a break. I slow down, all sensations in my arms having faded long ago, but I dare not put her down. I glance down to find her eyes closed, her features so pale that her eyelashes stand out in stark contrast to her leached-of-color cheeks.

Her body convulses, and I can only stare helplessly. Fuck, I won’t be able to save her. She is going to die in my arms, and there is nothing I can do about it. Just like I was unable to save Xander.

By the time I had driven up, flames were leaping from Michael’s car. I’d jumped out, gone over to the car, and with Seb’s help, managed to pull Xander out. But he hadn’t stirred. Not when we’d lowered him to the ground. Not when I’d reached for the piece of metal protruding from his chest, and Seb stopped me. He’d cautioned me to wait for the medics to arrive.

So, I’d slid down to my knees next to him, held his hand, locked my gaze on his face, and willed him to live. I had not let go when the ambulance arrived and the medics ran to him. They’d checked his vitals and declared him dead, and I still hadn’t let go. I’d gripped his hand, beseeched him to open his eyes, to tell me he was okay. But he never had.

I’d refused to let go of him, and it had taken Massimo folding his arms around me and begging me to release him, for him to unwrap my fingers one by one from that of my soul brother, my twin, my life partner, my life saver… And when I’d finally released him, and they had taken him away in the ambulance, I knew that I’d never be the same again.

And now, she is going to die, and nothing can bring me back from this tragedy. I cannot live to see another day like this. If she is gone, then so am I. If she leaves me then … I’ll kill myself. I stare down at her closed eyelids; I will never let myself feel again, think again… Never let myself live. No. I will retreat from this life, from this hell on earth that I find myself in again. I will-

Her eyelids flutter. Those golden orbs stare at me. The light in them is dulled, but as I watch, something sparks deep inside. She moves her lips, but I can’t hear anything. Can’t understand what I’m seeing. Then she raises her hand. Her palm connects with my face, and my neck snaps back; pain shudders down my spine, and heat flushes my skin. My gut twists, and blood rushes to my groin.

I lower my head and smash my mouth to hers with such force that our teeth clash. I draw off her breath, drink of her essence, and thrust my tongue over hers. I dig my teeth into her bottom lip, and the coppery taste of her blood fills my palate. I tear my mouth from hers. My breath comes out in puffs. My chest rises and falls as I stare at her.

“Wh-what… ha-happened?” she whispers. “You l-look like you saw a g-ghost.” Her teeth chatter, and I haul her even closer.

“I…” I shake my head. “Nothing. I was just…” I glance away. A ball of emotion fills my throat, and I swallow it down. I take in my surroundings, blinking back the moisture that threatens to overflow my eyes.

Something catches my eye in the distance. I peer through the snow. What the hell is it? Is that a-? I begin to walk toward it. My steps speed up. Before I realize it, I’m running again. I turn a bend in the path and come to a halt.

“Finally, fuck!” I scowl.

She turns to glance in the direction where I’m looking. “Is th-that a h-house?” she whispers.

“It’s the lodge.”

I break into a run toward the structure. Step up on the patio and reach the door. I push my shoulder into it, but it doesn’t budge. I try again, and the wood creaks but it doesn’t open.

“Cazzo,” I growl. “Now what?”

“Maybe there’s a k-key under a p-pot or so-something?” she mumbles.

“Surely, that only happens in movies?”

“Why d-don’t y-you… At least, t-try?” Her teeth click together, a staccato rhythm that matches my racing heartbeat, and she attempts to pull her legs up, trying to hold onto what little warmth there is trapped between us.

I swivel around and notice a pot near the edge of the patio. I walk toward it, then sink down to one knee. “Can you reach for it?”

She reaches for the pot, and I lower her further until she can feel under it.

“F-found it,” she cries out.

Well, whaddya know? The movies did get something right, after all.

I straighten and walk over to the door. Hands shaking, she struggles to fit the key in the lock. Finally, the key clicks into place and turns. I put my shoulder to the door, and this time, the door gives way.

I step into the darkened interior. Bluish light streams in from a window on one side. I head for the fireplace and lower her down to the carpet in front of it.

I peel off my jacket from around her, then her shirt and bra. I reach for her waistband. “I’ll … d-do it,” she insists.

I watch as she tries to grip the zipper, unable to stop the quaking of her hands. Her fingers slip on the zipper once, twice. I reach over and brush her fingers aside. She protests.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter. “I’ve already seen what’s inside your clothes, remember?”

I lower her zipper, peel her jeans and panties down her legs and notice she’s still wearing her boots. I guide her to the couch then help her out of her boots and socks. I straighten, grab the cover off the back of the settee and wrap it around her shoulders. She shivers, then sneezes.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“Porca miseria.” I scowl. “Better get the fire started.” I turn to the fireplace, get to work with the kindling and matches I find next to it. Once the tinder sparks, I add the logs. Within minutes, flames lick around the edges of the wood, and the warmth builds in the space.

I spring up, walk over to where she’s seated, then haul her up into my arms and deposit her on the plush rug in front of the fire. She doesn’t protest, and I know I’ve done the right thing when she sinks down with a sigh and snuggles deeper into the cover.

I shrug off my shirt, step out of my boots, and pull of my socks, pants, and boxers.

I walk over to the bar in the corner of the living room-yes, the lodge is small, but no way, would we Sovranos have compromised on having a bar in the house-and grab a half-full bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

I walk over to her, place the bottle down on the ground, then sink down next to her.

She turns, and I don’t miss how she rakes her gaze down my body. She takes in the tattoos on my chest and upper arm, then lowers her gaze to my crotch. Her lips part, and she takes in another shaky breath.

“Here…” I pour some of the liquor into a glass and offer it to her.

Her hand trembles as she reaches for it. She downs the whiskey in one gulp and bursts out coughing.

I sip mine at a slower pace, and by the time I’m done, she’s placed her glass down on the ground next to her.

“How are you feeling?” I peer into her flushed features.

“St-still… c-cold.” A trembling grips her. Her teeth chatter, and the sound of them clacking against each other is loud in the space. “Sorry, it’s p-probably the sh-shock s-setting in,” she stutters.

I place my glass next to hers, then pull her onto my lap. She doesn’t protest. I cradle her and tuck her head under my chin.

“I should p-probably take this c-cover off.” Her entire body quakes. “Skin … to … s-s-skin is b-be… t-t… er for g-getting w-warmed up.”

She wriggles out of the spread, managing to pull it off of herself. She wraps it around my shoulders, turning so that her breasts collide with my chest.

She draws in a sharp breath, and her already erect nipples seem to cut into my chest. She glances up at me from under her eyelids. “You are n-not g-going t-to-”

“Take advantage of you?” I smirk. “Not that I’m not tempted, but trust me, my focus here is to make sure neither of us gets frostbite after that dip in the pond-which, by the way, was your fault.”

“M-my f-f-fault?” She frowns. “H-how is it m-my f-fault?”

“You wandered off in a hissy fit, not looking where you were going.”

“I-it wasn’t a hiss-sy … f-fit.” Another bout of trembling grips her. She pushes away, then turns to leave, and I yank her back. The curve of her shoulder, the dip of her waist, the swell of her butt, all fit snugly against me. I widen my legs to notch her between my thighs so that my cock nudges into the groove between her ass cheeks. My dick instantly thickens, and she stills. She shoots me a glance from under hooded eyelashes. “Is th-that… Are y-you-?”

“Only human, Flower,” I growl. “I have a naked woman in my arms. I would have to be dead to not react.”

She presses her palms against my chest, and I wince, “Fuck, you are cold.”

“Not as c-cold as your h-heart.” She sniffs. “Wh-why do you m-make m-me so m-mad?”

“Why do you insist on turning me on with everything you do?”

“I’m not d-doing anything.”

“You exist, don’t you?” I counter.

“So, n-now what? You b-blame me for drawing b-breath?”

I glance down at her. “Not that,” I clear my throat, “never that. When I saw you disappear under the water, I thought-”

“That it was Chr-Christmas?”

I thrust my face into hers. “That I had lost you forever. That before I had a chance to tell you how I felt about you, you were gone. That I’d never be the same again. That, just as I had lost Xander, I had lost you too, and this time I wouldn’t survive the pain.”