Promised For Truce

Chapter 8

Nina turned her head sideways before the heavy doors shut out the view of a whistling and cheering crowd. Most of them were men. She watched Luciano lock the door of the room they would spend their first night in.

Click.

Nina glanced around the room. Once again, avoiding his gaze on her and silently trying to avoid the inevitable. Her eyes stopped moving and settled on the bed. Just like her father told her, the milky-white sheets were there. She wanted to shred it to pieces and let flames consume it. Nina turned on her heel when she heard an unexpected sound come out of Luciano.

Does he think this is funny?

"Your family likes to test my patience, don't they?" He laughed under his breath.

While the corners of his lips were tipped up, his eyes didn't match it. Luciano wasn't humoured. The opposite seemed to be true.

Nina felt his arm brush against hers as he stalked past her, heading toward the large bed. She couldn't hide her surprise when Luciano the grabbed the white sheets and threw them on the carpeted floor. The laughter was gone and his expression mirrored that one of fury. Nina took a step back, wary of the next thing he would do.

"Did you know they would do this?" Luciano's focus was back on his wife. "Nina?"

The sheets? What do I tell him? What does he want to hear?

"My father told me about it. It's common practice in New Orleans to-"

"I'm aware of your practices." He gritted his teeth. "But it's the girl who is marrying into The Outfit. Not the other way around. We don't uphold the bloody sheet tradition. At least, not anymore."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Nina could feel her shoulders sag. She found great solace in his revelation. Now, she wouldn't have to experience the humiliation of her family seeing her virgin blood on a cloth that acted as a canvas.

Her relief faded when Luciano closed the space between them. Nina had to remind herself that even though the sheets wouldn't be used, he would still want to consummate their marriage.

Luciano held Nina by her arms. "Next time your family has plans of their own and you know about them, as my wife I expect you to tell me about them. Am I clear?"

She nodded and felt the need to explain herself. "I didn't think it would matter. I thought your family also abided by old traditions."

For a moment or two, Luciano searched her eyes before letting go of her. He faced his back toward her and crouched down to pick up the discarded sheets.

Nina frowned as her husband neatly folded it and headed toward the door. "What are you doing?"

"Making it clear to your family where I draw the line of their involvement in our marriage." Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Go to bed. It will take a while."

Nina stood in the middle of the room, her wedding dress untouched. It took a second for her to process what had happened. She doubted whatever he would do or say to them would go over well.

Papà doesn't like people talking back to him. Luciano wouldn't do anything too rash, right? I should go and stop him. Nina moved toward the closed door but couldn't bring herself to lower the handle. What am I doing? I shouldn't go. I should do as I'm told and go to bed. She had no intention of experiencing her husband's wrath.

Nina stepped inside the bathroom and locked the door. She went to stand in front of the wide mirror and removed a countless amount of hairpins from her updo. When she locked eyes with herself, everything seemed to hit her at once. She would spend the rest of her life with Luciano. A man capable of partaking in horrendous crimes. The overwhelming feeling made her feel like bawling her eyes out. Quickly, Nina formed her hands into fists and focused on another emotion. She didn't want to cry. If she did, her husband would see her bloodshot eyes the next morning.