Chapter 7 Damion

DAMION

Logan handed me a flask. "For you."

I tugged my tie into place before taking the gift. "I won't drink hard liquor today."

"I thought you could use it to hit yourself over the head if you consider something as stupid as refusing the bloody sheet tradition again."

I shoved the flask into the pocket on the inside of my jacket. "Don't get started again."

Logan glared. "Just promise you won't try this faking blood stains bullshit. Phoenix was baiting you. Trust me, he fucked that wife of his on their wedding night, even if she cried bitter tears. That's who he is and who he expects you to be. And come on, Damion, you are that man, so stop trying to be a better man only because you feel guilty over Camila."

I gripped his throat. "We are friends, Logan, but I'm also your boss, so show some respect."

Logan spluttered, his brown eyes watering. "I'm trying to keep you alive. Alejandra is a grown woman by age. That's all that should matter."

"I'm going to fuck her, so get off my back," I gritted out, releasing him. I hadn't seen her since our first and only encounter four months ago, but I knew she still looked young-younger than I preferred. A few months wouldn't change that. I could only hope that her mother had followed my instructions and put enough makeup on her face to make her look older.

Logan grinned. "Do me a favor and enjoy it, will you? Tonight, you'll have a tight young pussy around your cock."

He left the room before I could grab him again.

I waited at the front of the church for Alejandra. Logan stood to my right and across from him waited one of Alejandra's friends, who looked awfully young. A reminder of my own future wife's age.

When the music started, I turned my attention to the entrance of the church where Altair entered with Alejandra at his side. She was dressed in an elegant long white dress with a long-sleeved lace top. Her hair was pulled up, except for her bangs.

She was smiling slightly as her father led her toward me, but her tension was unmistakable. When she arrived in front of me, I noticed the small sunflowers woven into her hair and bridal bouquet. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment I caught the hint of defiance in them, surprising me. Then her father handed her to me, and Alejandra became tenser, her smile wavering.

She looked marginally older thanks to the makeup and her elegant dress. Still, her fine-boned, clammy hand in mine and the innocence in her eyes reminded me of her age.

Despite her youth, she kept her head high, appearing at ease with the situation. Only I could feel her trembling. Her "I do" was firm, as if this bond was really her choice.

While we exchanged the rings, Alejandra kept throwing uncertain glances up at me. I wasn't sure what she was looking for. Maybe wistfulness or even sadness. I remembered my first wedding. Sadness wasn't part of my feelings when I thought of Camila.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest said.

Alejandra's eyes widened a fraction, as if that part of the ceremony came as a surprise. Hundreds of eyes watched us, one set belonging to my Capo. I cupped the back of her head and bent low. She remained frozen, except for her eyes which fluttered shut a moment before I firmly pressed my mouth against hers. Until this moment, physical closeness with Alejandra had seemed like something that I'd have to force myself to allow, a struggle forgetting her age and the baggage I carried with me. Now, as her soft lips touched mine and her sweet scent hit me, a deeply buried desire kindled inside me. Claiming her tonight wouldn't be a problem. Being a better man definitely wasn't in my future.

I pulled back, causing Alejandra to open her eyes. She held my gaze, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Then she gave me a small, shy smile. So goddamn innocent.

I straightened, looking away from her pretty, young face. From the corner of my eye, I saw her puzzled expression before I led her down the aisle and out of the church for the congratulations.

Logan, of course, was the first to congratulate me. He clapped my shoulder with a challenging smile. "And how was the first taste of your young wife?" he asked in a low voice.

I scowled. He knew very well that I rarely shared information like that. It didn't stop him from asking, of course. He stepped back and faced Alejandra, giving a small bow. Her answering smile was the kind of unguarded friendliness that gave proof of her age. As my wife, she'd have to learn to be more restrained.

Camila had been the perfect hostess and trophy wife, poised and a master of social etiquette, a quick liar, someone who smiled at you one moment only to stab you in the back the next. Alejandra wasn't like that. She'd have to grow up quickly, learn the ins and outs of being an Underboss's wife.

My eyes lingered on the small sunflowers in her updo. Those would have to go first. Too lighthearted, too quirky. Nothing I appreciated.

The sunflower earrings were even worse. She should have worn the jewelry I sent her. I leaned down to her. "Why didn't you wear the diamond earrings I bought for you?"