Chapter 5 Scar Tissue

• Lazaro’s POV
• “Congratulations, man! You’re a proper family man now.”
• A slap on my back, one I did not appreciate, follows the compliment, and I narrow my gaze to the side, my jaw working terribly.
• I’m very mindful of the people that come around us, especially my new bride, Seraphina, as we walk out of the reception garden, to where our car is parked in the driveway.
• My new bride…
• Despite my resolve, I like the way that sounds, and the idea of it.
• “You have to seal the deal tonight, brother!” Another one of them call out, and the throng burst into a raucous laughter, hoots and whistles going up in the air.
• “Yes! Make sure you plant a couple seeds tonight!”
• I turn my head slightly to the side to see Seraphina’s cheeks stained with pink dust, and I bite back a curse.
• Stupid bastards getting so raw and foul mouthed, fucking unfiltered, at my own wedding.
• “Stay close to me,” I whisper under my breath, under all that noise, to her, simultaneously tugging her close.
• I really do not want their bad blood on her. But it is an inevitable occurrence.
• It flows in her veins already, and would soon mix with mine.
• We barely make it to the car amidst the throng of extended families with intentions of passing their fucking blessings, and I throw my gaze her way to see she is barely holding it to together.
• Hot and bothered.
• Cursing under my breath, my jaw twitching, I nudge some of them to the side and pull the car door open, firmly guiding her into the backseat with one large arm, careful not to graze the injury on her palm.
• I slam the door shut behind her, keeping her locked and safe from the many predators I could sniff out from amongst the throng.
• My eyes find my father in the front of the crowd, and I tilt my head in a small nod. “We’ll be on our way, then.”
• Without waiting for some form of acknowledgment, I breezed past him to the other side of the car, my eyes catching my bride’s father behind a couple heads, straining his neck to gain my attention.
• My jaw tightening, I pull my gaze from him and get into the car, slamming the door shut. “Start the fucking car,” I direct at the driver, leaning into the headrest and finding his eyes in the rearview mirror, “now.” “Head to the private suite.”
• The next ten minutes pass in complete silence, except for the occasional bumping of the tires, and the rumbling of the engine. And although I appreciate it, it’s a tad bit uncomfortable.
• Seraphina has remained unflinching, her head held high, and her jaw clamped tight in a deep frown.
• I clear my throat, adjusting on the seat, and at my very movement, she scoots away, close to the door.
• Then she shoots me a biting look. “You do know we’re not sleeping together tonight, right?” She asks, watching me with a certain caution in her eyes. “I don’t know whatever your family’s told you, or whatever the traditions are, but I’m not—“
• “Who said anything about sleeping together?” I cut in bluntly, fixing her a sharp gaze, and she stutters, seemingly taken aback.
• “I-I mean, didn’t you hear what they—“
• “You sound like that’s such a bad thing,” I interrupt again, then lift my palms in surrender when she glares at me, obviously enraged. “But I’m not saying I want to sleep together. If I wanted to, I would.”
• “What’s that supposed to mean?” She retorts in a sharp voice, her lips curling back, and my eyes trail down to them.
• “This is not something we want, Seraphina,” I murmur, my eyes leaving her bottom lip to trail down to her throat that bobbed as she swallowed. “This alliance is a pact between our families. We’re just the pawns in the game.”
• I lean in towards her so suddenly, that she sucks in her, her eyes widening. “Now why would I want to play with a fellow pawn?”
• Her eyes grow ever wider than saucer pans, and she pushes at my chest, seemingly offended. “Well you better not go against your words, then.”
• My lips curl back in a slight scoff, as I lean away from her, loosening my tie. “You have nothing to worry about, Seraphina Leone. But have it at the back of your mind that you belong to me.”
• I ignore her burning glare in the side of my face throughout the rest of the journey back to the suite, and the minute the car rolls into the driveway, she opens the car door and flies out in silent fury.
• I walk into the suite minutes later, after making a few phone calls, to find her halfway undressed already, a bottle of vodka in her hand.
• As soon as she notices my presence, she instinctively throws a hand over her exposed cleavage. “They didn’t teach you to knock or something?”
• I scoff, sliding onto the sofa and reaching down to pull off my shoes. “This is my house, Seraphina, in case you forgot.” I pull off both shoes, kicking them to the side and pulling my gaze up to her face. “You don’t expect me to go around knocking in my own house, do you?”
• Letting out a loud hiss, she storms over to the grey-curtained room divider, and gets behind the curtains, taking a swig of the vodka in her hand.
• Sighing silently, I reach up and tear off my tie, the exhaustion settling in.
• Sitting there for a few moments, I whip out my phone, trying to get away from distracting thoughts of a certain grey-eyed girl, and amidst the scrolling, the sound of a rolling bottle rises and catches my attention.
• I lift my head just then, and I’m a bit taken aback by the sight that meets my eyes.
• Seraphina is standing at the edge of the curtains, gripping onto it with one hand.
• Stripped down to just her panties, her fingers hooked in them. And I trail a dark gaze up her belly button, past her lace bra, to her face, to see she has a glint of amusement—and mischief in her droopy eyes.
• “I see it in your eyes, you know,” she murmurs, smirking, “how much you want this.” She nods downwards, and it takes me quite a while to realize what she’s insinuating.
• I scoff silently, keeping my dark gaze on her face. “And what exactly do you see in my eyes, Seraphina?”
• “Desire,” she slurs, and it clicks in my head that the vodka was getting to her head now. “I see desire in them. Lazaro. De Luca.” She scoffs, a belch following almost immediately.
• “Well, if you want this,” she continues, pointing again at her pussy, “you would have to come get it yourself.” She laughs, sliding the curtain to the side and revealing her dusky-gold skin in its full glory.
• My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes growing darker as they roamed over her supple frame.
• “Goodluck with that, Mr. Lazaro,” she mimics in a thick, annoying Spanish accent, moving out of the divider, towards me.
• As she breezes past, I impulsively reach forward and grab her by the wrist, and she tumbles into my laps, gasping.
• Her exposed cleavage pressed against my chest.
• I stared down at her slightly open mouth, swallowing a lump in my throat. Feeling a stir in my suit pants.
• Stomping hard on it.
• “I have to warn you, Seraphina,” I start in a gruff voice, “do not tempt the devil. Unless you’re ready to burn.”
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