Sold to Mr. Giordano

Chapter 22



Arielle

The next morning when I wake up in my honeymoon suite Antonio is gone. I wrap the silk sheet around my naked body and look around the room to see if he went to the bathroom or went out on the balcony. I found nothing except for a note on the table.

Arielle,

I’m cutting our honeymoon short, I’m heading back to work. I don’t need to be distracted and the Outfit has too much to worry about. Get dressed and have Carmelo take you back to my penthouse. Call me if there’s an emergency.

Antonio.

 Carmelo takes me back to Antonio’s penthouse—or should I say our penthouse. There, Arabella is sitting on the couch watching Netflix and eating a box of cookies. When she sees me her eyebrow raises and she rushes to greet me.

“What are you doing here? Your supposed to be on your honeymoon,” she frowns. My eyes start to water and she pulls me in for a hug. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

I clutch her tighter against me and weep onto her shoulder. “I-I had sex with him last night.”

“And it was horrible? Was he too rough? Are you hurt?” She pulls out of our hug to analyze my body and make sure not a scratch is on me.

I blush with embarrassment when I realize Carmelo is still standing near us listening in. He shrugs his shoulder not caring what he hears—he’s only cares to protect me.

“No, no it was actually… nice.”

“Nice? Then what are you doing here? You know after about two more times it’ll feel better than nic—”

“He got mad at me. I-I asked if there was anything he could do about yours and Lucas upcoming nuptials and he freaked out. He said I manipulated him and he was sorry for showing any human decency to me,” I continue to cry.

“Arielle,” she grabs my hand and leads me over to the couch to sit. “This is all my fault.”

“I just thought…” I shake my head and use my sleeve to wipe my wet eyes. “I ruined things already. I haven’t been married twenty-four hours and I’ve lost him. He-he was so nice and gentle and acted like he actually cared. I ruined it, now he’s going to act like my Capo—not my husband.”

“I’m sure there’s something you can do to change his mind,” Arabella says with slight uncertainty. We all know how hard it is to change the stubborn Capo’s mind. He won’t forget it and if I were one of his one night stands surely, he would’ve killed me for such deception.

“I can’t see why he should care that I used sex to ask a favor!”

“Ary… he got mad because Xander doesn’t care about people of their feelings and the one time he cared, the one time he decides to care about your stance on losing virginity and you did it to manipulate him. You wanted to use sex as power over him,” she waits to see if I understand. “The Capo can’t be weak, and you just reminded him that that decency he showed you in bed—was weakness. Honestly, I think he’s madder at himself than at you.” I can understand what Arabella is trying to tell me, in this case my situation is different I didn’t wanted to betray Antonio. The truth I’m hiding could make Antonio to murder me.

“Mad at himself for being gentle?”

“Yes. Haven’t you heard stories about the Made Men, they aren’t gentle—they’re killers. They fuck hard.”

“Was Vinny…?” I bite at my bottom lip.

 “He was harder than he should’ve been, but I guess that just ensured more blood on the sheets. We didn’t do a presenting of the sheets, I only bled a little, some don’t at all. He saw it as his prize. He did it to establish dominance and after a while I liked how rough it was.”

The sheets, he never took the sheets. He probably is having someone pick it up as we speak now.

Did I bleed?

“He said he isn’t going to go easy on me anymore,” I gulp. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Maybe, but maybe not. I don’t know, I wish I could give you an answer. Everyone is different.”

“Did Vinny ever… go down on you?”

“It took a while to convince him. Made Men only care about their own pleasure. Well, I shouldn’t say that, if I had an orgasm it boosted his ego. He would try to get me to come but only when we were having sex—where both of us were experiencing pleasure.” she shrugs. “Why? Did Xander go down on you?” Her eyes widen.

Meekly, I nod my head. “Yeah.”

“Antonio? My cousin? Wow… I never thought… you really screwed up. He went all gentle on you because he cares about you and when you responded by having sex with him in return for a favor—not because you cared about his needs, he got angry.  I run my hands through my hair and exhale deeply.

“Crap.”

“It’s okay, we can figure something out. Apologize, bake him lasagna, uhm or whatever thing you can do—”

“I don’t think anything is going to fix this.”

“Hey Carmelo, what do you think?” Arabella calls out to my bodyguard who is in the kitchen. The living room and kitchen are both on the main level of the penthouse, no walls separating the rooms.

Carmelo is leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed raises his eyebrow.

“Oh come on, we know you were listening,” Arabella rolls her eyes.

“Capo is a stubborn unforgiving man,” Carmelo states.

“See I fu—fudged it up.”

“Fudged?”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’m not supposed to swear,” I look away embarrassed.

“Says who?” She jerks her head back.

“My parents…” I reply softly.

“You’ve got to be joking me, Arielle,” Arabella groans. “Say it. Say you fucked it up.”

“What? No! It’s not ladylike!” I cross my arms.

“Fuck! Shit! Damn! Bitch!” Arabella screams at the top of her lungs. “You go.”

“I-I am not saying those words,” I refuse.

“Your parents do not own you anymore and I’m pretty sure my cousin won’t care if you swear. And anyone who says it isn’t ladylike can shove it up their ass!”

“Arabella,” I give her a stern look. “I’ve never swore then and I’m not starting now.”

“Come on, you need to grow up and get your anger out! Scream it loud! Tell out your frustration! Come on, say ‘Antonio, you motherfucker!'”

“Antonio, you motherffff…. I can’t. It’s not me, Arabella.”

“Ugh! Girl come on! Fuck you, Antonio! Go to hell!”

“It’s nice to know how you truly think of me, cousin.” Antonio’s voice comes from directly behind us.

Arabella and I both jump and yelp in surprise.

“Oh you know I love you, I’m just teaching Arielle how to swear,” Arabella flashes her perfect, straight white teeth.

Antonio raises his eyebrow like he wants to ask but doesn’t bother. Just like how he doesn’t bother to spare me a passing glance. “I’m just here to pick something up, carry on. I’ll be home by dinner.”

“Fuck!” Arabella swears and then laughs. “Go! Say it!”

“Fudge.”

“You sound like a two-year-old. I groan, “Let it go, I’m not swearing.”

I make my way to the kitchen to start dinner. When I get bored, I watch Louisa—our cook—cook. She was the one who taught me how to make my own pasta noodles, her famous tomato sauce, and her specialty baked Ziti. I get all the ingredients out and start what is going to be a handful of hours to make. By then maybe Antonio will be home and eat with me.


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