Wedding Day
Laura Fuccesse, who up until that morning had been Laura Penfold, paced the bedroom of her new husband's mansion.
She was still wearing her wedding a gown, an off the shoulder ivory French Chantilly and English Cluny lace adorned satin hand-stitched gown embellished with pearls. It had cost her husband Emilio Fuccesse over one hundred thousand dollars. Her white Christian Louboutin stiletto high heels had cost five thousand dollars. Even the fifteen denier flesh-toned Wolford pantyhose she wore under the dress had cost three hundred dollars as had her white satin panties and bra.
Laura was dreading what this night would bring; what the rest of her life would bring. She didn't love Emilio Fuccesse; in fact she didn't even like him. But Emilio Fuccesse was rich and powerful and if he saw something he wanted he had to have it.
Laura Penfold was not the prettiest woman on the planet by any means, not even the prettiest women in the state or the city but she was certainly beautiful. She had met Emilio Fuccesse at an event hosted by her father, who worked for Emilio as his bookkeeper.
Laura knew that her father was deeply involved in organised crime but he passed himself off as a legitimate businessman. He'd told her, when she was old enough to understand, that he didn't do anything bad, he wasn't involved in any violence or physical criminality, he was just a bookkeeper. A bookkeeper for the biggest organised crime boss in the state.
Emilio Fuccesse had fallen for Laura Penfold when he first met her but she had rebuffed his advances. Emilio was handsome, rich and behaved like a perfect gentleman... until he was denied what he wanted. He could have had almost any woman he wanted but he wanted Laura Penfold because he couldn't have her.
Laura was tall with buxom buttocks a tiny waist and large breasts. Her long black hair framed a face that was not traditionally pretty but it was interesting with her longish straight nose, well-defined cheekbones, and green eyes which she accentuated with dark eye makeup and mascara. Her lips were full and she had a penchant for red lipstick. She dressed well, normally in skirted business suits because she had followed in her father's footsteps and became an accountant but she worked for a legitimate business.
Emilio had followed Laura around like a lost puppy turning up unannounced when she was out socialising. His henchmen had scared off any potential suitors and even her close female friends. His jealousy consumed him.
Laura had finally relented and accompanied Emilio on a series of dates to try to get to like him but as charming and handsome as he was there was something about him that she couldn't stomach. It wasn't that he was a gangster, her father was a mobster and she loved him, it was because under his bluff, bravado and banter Emilio was a coward.
She had witnessed first-hand his cowardice when a man had insulted her in a restaurant. Emilio had stood up to the drunkard who had called her a bitch when she had slapped his hand away from her ass. But the drunkard didn't know who Emilio was and he tried to fight him. Emilio was used to people backing down at the mere mention of his name but when the drunkard had raised his fists to Emilio, Emilio had backed down. In fact Emilio had apologised on behalf of Laura and said that she couldn't take a joke. She could see the fear on Emilio's face.
The fact that Emilio had two of his goons break the man's arms and legs the next day didn't prove that Emilio was heroic, in Laura's eyes it just confirmed that he was a craven coward who couldn't fight his own fights. She had felt belittled when Emilio had apologised to the heavy-set overbearing drunkard and she had told Emilio so later that night and had broken off their courtship.
She was glad that she hadn't let Emilio make love to her. He had tried many times of course but she had made him settle for a handjob and had once given him fellatio when he begged her for it. Whenever she ceded to his supplications for sex he had bought her expensive gifts the next day. She hated that too as she felt like he was paying her for sex. Emilio was a petulant spoiled cowardly brat who had inherited his father's legacy but couldn't live up to it.
Finally free of him Laura moved interstate and took a better job on the west coast. She had only been gone a month when two of Emilio's henchmen had bundled her into a car and kidnapped her and drove her across the country back to Emilio. He had given her an ultimatum. She could marry him and live a life of pampered luxury rearing his children or she could watch her father die slowly and painfully.
She agreed to marry Emilio on the proviso that they would only have sex for procreation. He had agreed and grinned at her that he wanted many children. She countered that she would have three and that was all. Emilio had agreed and she had never told her father what had transpired. That morning her father been the proudest man in the church when he gave away his daughter; he only wished that Laura's mother was still alive to see it.
So Laura paced up and down the bedroom dreading the arrival of the man she had married only a few hours earlier. They would stay the night in their mansion and leave the next day for an extended honeymoon travelling around Europe.
Emilio had pawed at her in the limousine on their way home from the reception. He was more than a little drunk but it hadn't affected his libido, he had forced her hand down his pants and she had found his little cock hard and ready. She dreaded having to let him put it inside her but she had set her resolve.
She heard the creaking on the stairs as Emilio came up them and then the door opened and he stepped inside the bedroom and smiled at her. He was a handsome man with his dark Neapolitan complexion and gym-toned body. He moved into her and kissed her.
She responded to his kisses; she was his wife after all.
"I'm going to fuck you in that wedding dress," he whispered in her ear and she shuddered.
"Emilio, please. It cost a fortune, let me take it off," she countered.
"I paid for it so I'll do what I want with it now get on the bed and open your legs Mrs Fuccesse," Emilio pushed her away from him and hauled her over to the bed.
Laura sat on the edge of the bed. She refused to cry. Emilio was struggling to get out of his classic morning suit when they both heard crashing and banging coming from the floor below followed by the heavy thump of feet on the stairs.
"Shit! Who the fuck is that?" Emilio paled.
He went to the door and opened it and saw a man climbing the stairs. The man was holding a gun.
"Quick! Get in there!" Emilio grabbed Laura by the wrist and pulled her to her feet and dragged her over to the huge walk-in wardrobe and closed the doors behind her.
"Keep quiet. Don't come out until I tell you to no matter what you hear," he hissed at her.
He had opened the top dresser drawer and was about to retrieve his own pistol when the man burst into the room.
"No you don't mister!" the man raced across the room and launched himself at Emilio.
In the ensuing struggle Emilio lost his gun and the intruder gained the upper hand. Emilio ended up lying on the floor on his back with the intruder straddling him, pointing a gun at his head. Emilio began to shake and sob.
Laura heard the struggle but couldn't see anything through the wardrobe doors. When the fighting stopped she stepped back deeper into the wardrobe hiding behind the hanging clothes. From what she knew of Emilio she doubted he had won the fight. What she heard next proved that she had been correct in her assumption.
"Get up and don't make any moves," the intruder growled.
He had both his own gun and Emilio's and he waved them at Emilio indicating that he should back up. Emilio complied and backed up to the wall. The intruder ripped the phone cord out of the wall.
"Ok, I know who you are and I know that you have money. If you do what I tell you we will both get out of this alive... if not I'll shoot you in the belly and leave you to die. Do you understand?" the intruder asked, still panting from the fight.
Emilio nodded. He too was exhausted and also afraid.
"Open the safe," the intruder waved his gun to a painting mounted on the wall.
"What safe?" Emilio asked and instantly regretted it as the barrel of a pistol struck him across the face.
Emilio fell to his knees and sobbed, cradling his bleeding face.
"Shall we try that again?" the intruder asked.
Emilio got shakily to his feet and without saying a word he went to the picture on the wall and moved it aside. The picture was hinged and behind it, set into the brickwork, was an old fashioned wall safe. It took Emilio three attempts to open it because his hands were shaking so much.
"Go and sit down where I can see you and don't move or make a sound," the intruder waved his gun at an armchair next to a writing desk.
