Sniping Her Mafia King

The King's Crown

Arwen walked into the cathedral with her cousin on her arm and waved to Fabiana near the front of the church. She grinned at Jesse who was standing with her brother at the altar. She hadn’t been surprised to see her friend as the best man. Jesse and Dylan were closer than most siblings and it was clear from the way they stood whispering.

Cat slid in beside her. “Looking good, Beddoe ladies. I love that color on you Dee.”

“Thanks Cat.” Deidre blushed as Cat winked at her.

“Deidre, this is Tuva. Tuva, this is Deidre, Arwen’s cousin.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tuva extended her hand and shook Deidre’s firmly. “Where did you get your shoes? I’ve been dying for a good pair of flats and those are amazing.”

Arwen smiled at Tuva and Cat making Deidre feel special. Cat had done well to find a partner like Tuva who was strong and compassionate. Tuva had been supposed to fly home the day before. Arwen was happy to see she was still here with her friend.

“Did you hear?” Cat leaned to Arwen, “Portia cried and begged for Jesse and Torben to sing.”

“No way.” Arwen’s eyes rounded. “Like together?”

“Some Meghan Trainor song.”

“I hope it’s not ‘All About the Bass’.” Deidre commented with a wide grin earning chuckles from the other women.

“All I know is Jesse called me at midnight last night to say Torben is pickier than Fabiana and if she snaps and kills him, she’ll need us to lie and say she was with us all night.” Cat’s smile was huge.

“He’s a pushy son of a b***h,” Tuva complained. “I grew with up him. I know how much of a smug jerk he can be. If he thinks you can do better, he’s going to tell you. I’ll happily cover for her if she kills him. I’ll pay her bail and commit perjury if I have to.”

Deidre’s giggle echoed around them and Arwen high-fived Tuva.

Cat’s eyes widened as she looked past Tuva then back to Arwen. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“The King is making his first public appearance as the new Don.”

Arwen felt the blood drain from her face as she slowly turned to watch the man enter the church with so much confidence it rolled off him like a tidal wave. He was easily six foot two with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and legs stronger than a racehorse. He had the physique of a quarterback and the face of a movie star. His eyes were a brown that bordered black, and his complexion made her think of sunshine and lemon groves. She had gone to Italy in the summer on a trip with Deidre once and the sun-kissed skin of the locals was a vision she’d envied. Right now, looking at him from where she hid behind her girlfriends, he reminded her very much of her time there. His cheekbones were high and his nose straight and proud. His lips were full and wide and if she were honest, perhaps a bit too full. Since she’d laid eyes on him the weekend before, she’d been imagining them on every inch of her pale skin wondering if they were as soft as they looked. Damn him. He breezed by them as she sunk backwards hiding behind her cousin.

Deidre shoved her, “I’m fat but not so fat you can hide behind.”

“You’re not fat and f**k off.”

“Quite sure you shouldn’t use the word f**k in a church. We could get hit by lightening,” Deidre shot back.

“Nah, the devil’s got my back,” she retorted just as quickly.

She kept her back straight as she watched his broad shoulders walk towards Fabiana and hug the woman tightly after kissing both her cheeks. He whispered in her ear causing her to blush and slap his cheek playfully.

Arwen wondered what it would be like to have him whispering in her ear and then mentally slapped her own cheek. She needed to get her libido in check. It had been almost a month since she’d gotten laid last. Trace might have been an asshole, but he was good in bed, and she was missing it.

“Stop dreaming of his d**k, we can all hear it.” Cat teased her.

“Shut up, Cat.” Arwen dug her elbow into her friend’s side angrily.

“He’s even hotter in person than in his internet pictures,” Deidre admitted with a grin.

“Why is your cousin looking up The King on the internet?” Cat looked between the two women.

“Because he had flowers delivered to her on Monday and I was wondering who sent them.” Deidre’s smile was wide and bright as she reveled in feeling like one of the girls at her cousin’s expense. “Why do you call him the King?”

Cat grinned as Arwen glared at her warningly. “She’s almost nineteen now. I bet the books she reads gives far more detail.” As Arwen hissed at her to shut up Cat continued, “Clara, Jesse and I were in Vegas one weekend and Adrianu was supposed to have met with Jesse for dinner and he didn’t show up. He is notorious for being a man of his word so of course she was worried. She tried texting and calling him and nothing. Finally, we decided to go find him and we burst into his room, and he had three women in his bed doing naughty things and,” she grinned wickedly, “he was drunk, wearing nothing but the label off a bottle of Crown Royal on his ass-cheek, which we all got to see from where he was standing behind one of the bent over girls.”

“No!” Deidre’s word was almost shouted, and she covered her mouth against the chortle of laughter as she hid her head against Arwen’s shoulder. She peered out at Cat who was laughing at her response. “What did he do when you all walked in?”

“At first nothing because he thought me and Clara were just two more bridesmaids to the bride he was railing,” Cat’s ducked away from Arwen’s hand trying to cover her mouth, “but then he saw Jesse and immediately threw a robe on. We got the girls out and she got him sober and told him off. He’d been having a bad day, which is why Jesse was meeting with him.”

Arwen knew from the story it had been the anniversary of his mother’s death, which Jesse flew to Vegas every year to join him for dinner and toast a glass of wine to her memory. Knowing he’d been a mama’s boy did not help her desire to avoid him.

Deidre couldn’t look in the man’s direction as she blushed at Cat’s story. “It’s intensely depraved.”

“He sure is,” Cat sighed dramatically, “its why your cousin is all hot and bothered by him.”

“I am not!” Arwen said sharply and a bit too loud, earning several glances from nearby guests of the wedding. “Would you stop telling Deidre tales of debauchery please? We’re in a church. Our parents are rolling in their graves right now from you putting dirty thoughts in her head.”

“Hey, I was just telling her why we call him the King. He was wearing his crown with pride.”

“You could have just said you caught him with a sticker of a crown on his body.” Arwen folded her arms furiously. “She’s just a kid.”

“Didn’t you tell me just the other night I’m almost nineteen and I need to live a little?”

Arwen was going to throttle the pair. “I give up.”

“Speaking of almost being nineteen,” Cat grinned, “I have your birthday present in the car. You’re going to love it.”

“Am I?”

“You are.”

Arwen settled back into the seat confident the change in topic of conversation was complete. She knew the book Cat had gotten her was some rare edition of a Bronte work. Dee was going to sob like a baby over it. They continued chatting about nothing in particular until the music started to signify the beginning of the wedding.

The ceremony went off without a hitch and Arwen was genuinely happy for the couple. Portia was a glowing bride and Dylan cried from the minute she started down the aisle until she said, ‘I do’ and Arwen couldn’t help but feel her heart clench at the love he had for his bride. She shed a tear when Jesse and Torben sang a beautiful version of ‘Like I’m going to lose you’ and she shoved back at Cat who was openly laughing at her.

She looked to Deidre who was crying too and draped an arm over her shoulder and hugged her to her side. “We’re allowed to cry. It’s beautiful.”

“It really is,” Deidre wiped a tear off her cheek with a tissue. “Jesse can really sing, huh.”

“She really can,” Arwen whispered back. Her eyes flicked to the back of the head of the man sitting next to Fabiana and noted he wiped a tear off the corner of his eye. Was Adrianu Cavallaro crying? No. Men like him would never dare to cry. She watched as his other hand came up and wiped the corner of his other eye. He’s actually emotional over his cousin’s singing. She c****d her head in confusion as she stared at him.

“You’re staring,” Deidre whispered.

“I can’t help it. Is he crying?”

“Looks like it. The song is beautiful.” Deidre’s voice was chastising. “Men can cry, Arwen.”

“Not that one,” she shook her head refusing to believe it. “He’s putting on a show or something. Men like him don’t cry for anything.”

She tore her gaze away from him to look back at Jesse and Torben as they finished their duet. She clapped exuberantly for them.

When the wedding was over and the bride and groom had exited the cathedral, she was making her way out of the pew with Deidre’s arm tucked into her elbow. The stopped at the edge to let people pass. “Lunch at the Pygmalion,” she whispered to Deidre, “for all of these people. Cam’s wallet is taking a hit today.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t rent out a Michelin starred restaurant for my wedding?” Deidre teased her.

“My darling girl,” Arwen patted her hand, “I would give you the world and you know it. I’d go bankrupt if I had to.”

“Well, the chances of me marrying are already slim but if we’re being honest, I’d probably get married with the chickens in the backyard and we’d have a BBQ with hotdogs.”

“The chances of you marrying are greater than the chances of me marrying.”

“We’re both going to be old spinsters in the old farmhouse in Flushing.” Deidre gave a dramatic sigh, “we should definitely get a goat.”

“We’ll have to look into it for sure. Goats for the old goats,” she was giggling as she looked up at the man who stopped to let her out of the pew. His eyes narrowed on her as he noticed her for the first time and her smile faded as his spread across his face. She suddenly felt like the lunch on his menu the way he looked her up and down and waved for her to step out ahead of him. She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, “thank you.” She tugged Deidre to her side and escorted her out of the church.

Both women were silent as they made their way out of the building and towards the car service which had been arranged for the guests to take them to the restaurant.

A hand snaked out and grabbed the door handle, “allow me.”

Arwen decided his voice could melt her panties if she wore them. “Thank you,” she repeated again the words she had uttered moments ago. She assisted her cousin into the car. Just before she went to join her, her arm was gripped lightly, and she turned to look into the eyes of the devil. f**k he was gorgeous.

“Release me.”

“Of course, but I’m sure there will be a day you beg me to hold onto you and never let you go, and I will obey the command as well,” his grin was wicked. “I am happy to see you wearing a full outfit. You look lovely.”

She fought the smile wanting to come to her lips at his playful expression. “Thank you for the compliment. May I go now?”

“Are you asking permission?”

“Of course, isn’t it what I’m supposed to do?” She held his gaze questioningly. She saw a flicker of heat in his eyes before he squashed it. Oh heavens, he liked the notion of her asking permission. Please don’t be a Dom, she begged internally. She was f****d.

Thankfully, he changed the subject. “Where were you this week? I sent you flowers you never saw.”

“Flowers die,” she shrugged as if her comment made sense.

“Where did you go?”

“It would be your business why?”

He stepped closer to her, his toes millimetres from hers. “Everything about you is my business.”

“I disagree, Mr. Cavallaro.”

“Addy,” he insisted. “My friends call me Addy.”

“Yeah, I’m going to stick with Mr. Cavallaro. We are not friends.”

“Don’t you want to be friends? I make a wonderful ally. Think of all the,” he paused and smirked down at her, “friendly things we could get up to together.”

“I’d be safer being friends with a box jellyfish.”

“I promise there is no safer place than to be with me.”

“I’m supposed to just believe your promises,” she put her hand against his chest as he encroached even more into her personal space. “I don’t know you, Mr. Cavallaro.”

“I’m a simple man, Arwen.”

She looked him up and down deliberately her fingers splayed against the strong pectoral muscle under his silk tie, “there is nothing remotely simple about you and I don’t need a psychiatric PhD to know it. My cousin is waiting. Excuse me please.”

“We should have dinner.”

“I’m busy.”

“I never said when.” His eyes were laughing.

“I have plans every dinner time from now until infinity.”

“You are an exciting challenge to me.”

She had a sudden recollection of Jesse telling her if she wanted him to go away, make him think she was complacent, easy, and simpering. “Mr. Cavallaro,” she purred his name, “I would love to have dinner with you, but you live in another city, in another state half a country away. I have obligations and I’m not looking for my heart to get broken by some Italian lothario who is far more experienced than I could ever dream to be. You’re out of my league and my zip code.” She stepped away from him, “have a good afternoon, Mr. Cavallaro.”

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “you will be mine, Arwen. Make no mistake.”

She tucked her legs into the car and smiled passively as he closed the door. The echo of him tapping the roof of the car twice made her shake her head. “Ass.” She mumbled under her breath. She’d be lying if she said his words didn’t make her squirm with need.

“Holy s**t he’s intense,” Deidre hissed at her. “How are you not naked?”

“Shut up. You’ve been spending too much time with Cat.” Arwen scolded her with a frown. She ran her hands along the front of her pale blue skirt and tugged it to mid thigh. She suddenly found herself wishing she were wearing her leather and to be zipping down the highway on her bike. Adrianu Cavallaro had made her feel hotter than she had in a long time and she hated him for it. He was everything she needed to keep clear of. Two days ago, she’d put a bullet past his head.

“I’m only saying, if I had a guy like him chasing me, I’m not sure how I’d say no.”

“He’s just a man. They’re all the same. Two legs, one d**k, no heart.”

“Just a question,” Deidre pushed, “but what if he’s at the restaurant.”

“Then you stick to my side like glue. You’re my anti-wingman.”

“What’s an anti-wingman.”

“A wingman helps you get laid. You’re going to be the opposite.”

“So, a cockblock.”

“Why do you know the term cockblock?”

“I read and I do have friends, well, just one but she has brothers. Also, I’m almost nineteen. Most girls my age aren’t even virgins.”

Arwen turned to look at her incredulously, “what are you saying?”

“Not me. I said most girls. I most assuredly am a virgin. The only guys in high school who would want to hook up with someone like me are the ones who take the bet or are even geekier than I am.”

“Would you stop putting yourself down?”

“Arwen, my waist is a size twenty. I’m missing half my thigh, my knee is artificial, and my calf barely functions. My face looks worse than Deadpool’s. Boys don’t want to sleep with me because I’m scary looking and I walk like a zombie.”

“Not true!”

“It is true and I’m okay with it.” Deidre sighed. “I’ll be your cockblock against Cavallaro, but you need to accept it is far easier for me to laugh at my flaws than to scrutinize and cry over them.”

“I don’t like you insulting yourself and I won’t accept you abusing yourself.”

“I’m not! I’m embracing my flaws.”

“There is a difference between embracing your flaws and being body-positive versus cracking nobody-wants-to-f**k-this jokes. You need to go back and read some more of Pima’s books.” Arwen was furious.

“Why are you so angry?” Deidre slapped the seat under her.

“Because you are a beautiful, kind, loving, strong woman who has worked hard to overcome so much and instead of celebrating all the things you’ve accomplished you belittle yourself and your accomplishments with derisive cruel comments. I love you and it hurts me to hear you be snarky about yourself. You deserve better. If anyone else said those things about you, I’d punch them into next week.” She held her gaze seriously, “in fact, if another person said those things to you, you would probably go home and cry into your pillow. Why is it okay for you to say it but not someone else?”

“It’s my body!”

“Then give it the love and adoration it deserves. You, your body, your mind, your heart, and soul, deserve to be loved and treated with kindness and gentleness. Your words are like rubbing silk over a cheese grater.”

“Now you’re quoting Pima?”

“Yes,” Arwen didn’t back away. “I love you, Dee. You are the most precious thing in my life. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and I will fight to the death for you, even if it’s against you. If I have to protect you from yourself, I’ll do it.”

Deidre folded her arms over her chest and made a grunting noise and stared out the window furiously.

By the time they reached the restaurant the silence was uneasy, and they were both still fuming.

“Hey,” Arwen reached out and stroked her arm. “I love you, Dee. I’m sorry I raised my voice at you.”

“I love you too. I’ll try to do better. I never thought of it from your perspective, but I need you to understand this is hard for me, Arwen. Because of my disability, because of my face, I don’t get to have the experiences most of my counterparts at college get and its easier for me to just crack jokes. It’s easier to laugh than cry. I’m finding this first year of college harder than I thought it would be.”

She held her cousin’s hands. “I will try harder to be more understanding of what you’re feeling.”

“Thanks.” Deidre grimaced as the door opened. “How long do we need to be here?”

“I just want to have fancy pasta then go home, put on track pants, and watch movies for the rest of the afternoon. Let’s get this over with and you and I can go home and binge television.

“It’s a date. Let’s go.”

As the exited the car, Arwen decided she was already exhausted, and bedtime was hours away. She didn’t have the emotional fortitude to deal with anything more. She prayed Adrianu left her alone in the restaurant.