In the back of the quiet limo, Francesco held onto Eleanor's hand as they made their way to the reception.
Eleanor still wore her veil, which had a slight tear in it. He knew it had to be his mother's doings. As if she knew he was thinking of it, Eleanor pulled it free from her hair and sat it on the limousine's seat before pulling out a select few pins from her hair, "This is killing me."
Francesco said little as they made their way to their next destination, but Eleanor had already expected that. He was his usual reserved self, likely preparing himself mentally for what was still in store for the evening.
She wished they stored liquor in the limo as Eleanor would need three shots just to feel like a normal human.
As they arrived Francesco stepped out of the vehicle, telling Eleanor to stay put as he would open her door.
They were instantly met with thousands and thousands of grains of rice as the wedding party stood in the street showering them with good luck. Francesco held tight as they rushed their way indoors to begin making nice with the hundreds of guests who had shown up to the reception.
The festivities were far from over, but at least they didn't have to remain so reformed. Now was the time to loosen up, if he couldn't do it on any other day, it would at least be today. The music was already heavy, and people had already lined the bar.
Francesco had chosen one of his favorite nightclubs in the city for the venue. It was industrial, but the now lights and flowers that covered it gave it a more feminine feel.
The bar was long giving many people space while the dance floor was large. He knew his family, they would all be drunk on the dance floor within a moment. Francesco gave Eleanor a spin before pulling her back to him. She was dizzy and as he made his way to the bar his mood seemed to lighten.
Or maybe he was just playing the role of the doting husband... Eleanor wondered.
"What do you think, Mrs. DeLuca?" he asked. He gazed into her eyes as though remembering the callback from the night in the kitchen causing Eleanor to blush.
Did he know what he was doing to her?
The sly smirk on his face revealed that he in fact did.
"I think it's pretty good for a rushed fake wedding," Eleanor said with the same smirk.
Francesco only chuckled before pulling his wife towards the bar, the meal had been devoured before the ceremony so now all there was left was simply to party. He ordered himself a scotch while Eleanor ordered herself a vodka cranberry. Francesco had never seen a wasted Eleanor, but this couldn't end well for her. They both quickly downed their drinks before grabbing another. She felt more and more herself with every sip, feeling the hesitation from earlier slipping away. Eleanor glanced around at the crowd that had formed of jovial guests looking for the familiar face of Jemma. Eleanor hadn't seen her since their moment in her room. She found herself shaky again, but it faded away when Francesco grabbed her and pulled her towards the dance floor.
Francesco pulled her to the center of the dance floor as everyone surrounded it. Giselle came up and tied a streamer around Francesco's wrist, then another on his right wrist.
Eleanor gave Giselle a questioning look as Giselle did the same to Eleanor's wrists.
One after one, members of the party did this until both Eleanor and Francesco's wrists were decorated.
"Hold tight," Francesco said as the music game on, fast and racing just as before. Eleanor was now completely confused, "It's called La Tarantella. It's a dance for good luck." Francesco explained over the loud music.
Suddenly the crowd began to move. All rushing clockwise causing the streamers to pull the two together.
Once completely wrapped in colorful streamers, the crowd switched the direction, now rushing counterclockwise.
The experience had been so fast and jarring that it sent Eleanor into a fit of laughter. Francesco found himself laughing aloud as well as the crowd eventually disbanded and joined the couple on the dance floor.
The vodka in Eleanor's system had caused her to loosen up and become more of her old self.
For once Eleanor felt like she had belonged here. Previously, she had only felt as though she was an outsider looking in on the family.
Tonight, she was the family.
The soon-to-be matriarch of something she hadn't yet completely understood.
But as she danced on the floor with the entire family, she didn't care. Everyone was all smiles and who cared if it was only due to the open bar? Even Francesco had been laughing, going off with his friends at points where they'd all chant or sing something in their native tongue.
Even then Eleanor hadn't been alone as women came up to congratulate her, and men came up to offer her a good luck kiss, something she found completely bizarre.
As Eleanor stared at Francesco from across the dance floor, his white button-up partially unbuttoned giving him the casual look she rarely ever got to see, she couldn't wait for the wedding night.
~*~
Francesco sat at the table in a rare moment alone.
From his vantage point, he could see Eleanor talking to her mother. He never thought he had seen her smile more than tonight.
Despite the many people around, Francesco found it hard to focus on anyone else aside from Eleanor. It was fitting for a groom, but only a few knew Francesco had no business admiring her. He wondered who chose the dress she wore. It was extremely form-fitting, showing off more cleavage than he was comfortable with.
At the very least, everyone knew to stay away from her. Even Francesco had been, always finding someone else to talk to when moments lulled. She hadn't seemed to notice at all, seeing as everyone in attendance had wanted to know who stole Francesco's heart.
All he wanted to do that night was to admire her from afar.
Enjoying the time when he hadn't had to hide his intrigue in her. If he truly allowed himself, Francesco lied to himself and told him this was all real and he would be pulling that dress off at the end of the night.
The mere thought of the actions caused a tightness in his pants that had nearly persisted ever since the night in the kitchen. She was truly driving him mad.
"You're supposed to look happy at your wedding, but you've had a pissy look on your face ever since she started socializing." Andreas took a seat next to Francesco, handing him a beer. Francesco only smirked, accepting the drink.
"She looks beautiful."
"That doesn't even describe half of it," Francesco murmured. Eleanor was sitting next to Ana placing a hand over her large stomach where Andreas' son rested.
"Ana looks lovely as well," Francesco commented. He could only hope he didn't have the same helpless look on his face when he looked at Eleanor.
For the entirety of his life, Francesco had only seen Andreas as a childish kid. He was always following behind Giuseppe and Francesco wanting to be a part of everything. He was his maternal cousin, but their mother had practically raised Andreas.
He had always moved recklessly, making Francesco constantly wonder if he would be a liability rather than an asset. It wasn't until Ana that Francesco had truly seen something shift in the man.
Even now, as Andreas rambled on about the nursery, Francesco was in awe to see that the boy he had always looked to had now been a man. He wondered if Giuseppe noticed as well.
"We can hardly afford the damn thing, but I am working..."
Francesco caught the end of the sentence, but he understood the greater part of it.
"Come to the clinic and I will see what I can do." Francesco offered.
"What?" Andreas froze for a moment.
The clinic of course hadn't been just that. It was a higher level of understanding that Andreas probably couldn't understand now, but he would soon know the weight of it all.
"If you're going to make more money for the bambino, you will have to work harder." Francesco offered. "You're just drunk and in a good mood. You don't mean that." Andreas said as if Francesco had grown two additional heads.
He couldn't help but chuckle, seeing the scared boy again. The same one that had appeared the night of the execution.
"Don't talk yourself out of good things. You're a Deluca and there is no reason that all of these men walking around here have higher ranking than you. But you're going to have to work hard."
"I understand," Andreas said quietly.
"I cannot protect you if you fuck up. You know the consequences, and you know blood will not protect you from them." Francesco said sternly.
He stood, having been away from Eleanor far too long now, "You know what happened with your father." The words held a heavier and more painful threat, but he hoped they were words that would echo in Andreas' head because Francesco hadn't lied.
When it came down to the greater good, he would easily sacrifice Andreas if he were to fuck this up.
As the thought trailed in his mind, Francesco went to find Eleanor.
~*~
The ride to the villa that had been chosen for their honeymoon had been a quiet and long one. Eleanor had drunk to ease her nerves, not stopping to think what would happen when all of the alcohol caught up with her.
Thankfully, the Deluca's certainly knew how to party, having the reception go until the early hours. Even when they had left people were still in an uplifted spirit, celebrating a wedding that had happened nearly twelve hours ago.
She sat in the passenger seat with her eye closed, her head resting on her palm as she fought the urge to sleep. Half of her wanted to stay up to see just what a honeymoon with Francesco would entail.
They truly hadn't needed to go on a honeymoon. With no one around, what were they supposed to do all day?
Eleanor blushed at the thought, knowing she could think of a few things to do. Or at least one thing in multiple different ways.
She shook her head, trying to recall the other part of her mind that had wanted to stay alert – heading Jemma's warning about not truly knowing who the stranger next to her was. Eleanor was well aware of the possibility that Francesco could be lying about everything.
Though, they truly would have nothing to gain out of marrying her... at least that's what every scenario Eleanor could come up with had shown.
"You don't have to fight sleep much longer; we will be there in a few moments," Francesco said. For the past hour, the only noise in the car had been the sound of the engine itself as Francesco shifted from the hillside to a more populated city. Eleanor was calmed by his tone of voice.
That is not the voice of a man that is preparing to kill me. Eleanor told herself. She sat up in her seat, "I wasn't falling asleep." As soon as her body mentioned sleep, she felt a yawn coming, quickly stifling it.
Francesco chuckled, "You must not be aware that you snore in your sleep."
Eleanor's jaw dropped, "I was not snoring!"
"No, you weren't now... but in general," Francesco said he shrugged like they had been talking about the weather.
"You're no sleeping beauty yourself."
"Senza senso, I don't snore." His tone was so matter of fact; Eleanor truly believed that he believed it.
She scoffed rolling her eyes, catching a glimpse of a brightly lit but sparsely populated city square. Eleanor was in awe of the difference. While their home was in a rural location, wherever they were going appeared to be an average city.
Francesco pulled over and a doorman immediately walked to the vehicle once it was stopped. Eleanor hadn't expected to see anyone else tonight, she was still wearing her wedding down, shoved into the front seat of the car.
Francesco was the first to exit, stopping the doorman from opening Eleanor's door and taking on that task for himself. Eleanor took his hand feeling relief shoot through her spine once she was out of the cramped car.
"Buonasera, signor Deluca." The man said before turning to Eleanor, "Signora Deluca." He bowed slightly and saw Francesco opened the rear door to have him grab their bags.
"Buonsera," Francesco responded awkwardly. They both hadn't gotten used to it yet it had seemed. Francesco gave a request to the doorman before taking Eleanor's hand once more, walking towards the lobby. With Francesco taking the lead, Eleanor let out the yawn she could no longer suppress, covering it with her hand.
She had nearly walked into his back when he stopped suddenly at the top of the steps.
"What's wrong?" Eleanor asked, wondering what caused him to stop so suddenly.
"Another tradition."
Without warning, Francesco scooped Eleanor up as though she weighed nothing, and carried her into the lobby. She couldn't stop the giggle that burst from the back of her throat. He hadn't sat her down when they entered the lobby, nor the elevator.
When they finally managed to get to their door, Eleanor thought she might have fallen asleep in his arms. She was thankful when he finally stopped walking. With one hand, Francesco unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Finally on her feet again Eleanor got a look at the place. Even in their late arrival, the lights in the apartment had been left on. The living room, walk a lot lower key than the castle they had lived in, was still nicely decorated.
The style of the apartment had looked and felt homier than Eleanor was used to, giving her a sense of homesickness in her stomach. There was a fireplace opposite the wall they came in with large bay windows showing the city they had just been observing below.
There was a knock at the door and Eleanor left Francesco to go check on it as she searched for the bedroom. She loved her mom to death but she had to have been a little smaller in the bust size when marrying her father. The gown constricted her when she bent over and she had been wearing it far too long.
Passing the kitchen, Eleanor took the stairs attempting to find her respite. Assuming the room with the balcony had to be the master, Eleanor took it, eagerly awaiting the chance to take off the dress and put on pajamas.
She hadn't had the chance to pack her bag, but Giselle had assured her that while she took care of everything else, she also had packed her bags for the weekend.
Whatever she had packed had to be better than the wedding gown. Hell, she'd even take a T-shirt.
Eleanor undermined her ability to slip out of the dress so easily, the back laced tight rather than having a zipper. She growled in frustration, plopping on the bed face first, not caring about smearing her makeup.
Footsteps approached and Eleanor knew that it had to be Francesco walking in. Her suspicion had been confirmed when he chuckled at the sight of her, "Do you need some help?"
"Please." Eleanor said, "I think your sister is trying to kill me."
Eleanor wished she had used a better choice of words the moment she had finished her sentence, but Francesco only laughed while walking over to her. Before she could move to sit up Francesco was sitting next to her, fussing with the laces.
Eleanor sunk deeper into the soft bed, feeling pure euphoria... or delusion from being so tired. Just as she had thought, Francesco had begun struggling to unlace the dress, cursing under his breath but not breaking concentration.
Fingers that were once so dexterous before seemed to struggle now. The thought immediately sent a blush down her neck. Her body suddenly aware of the position she had been in.
No matter how much reason she was raised with, it was something about the man struggling to undress her that made her feel. It was as if her body had been drawn to him, always wanting to be closer.
Even if she wanted to though, Eleanor knew she was far too tired to do anything, but it did little to help her sensitivity.
Finally, Francesco gained leverage and with every brush of his fingertips, Eleanor felt more and more relief from the ties that bind. She wondered if she was having the same effect on him as he did her. Her curiosities were answered when Francesco spoke in a hoarse tone, "Done."
Eleanor sat up, holding the front of her dress to her. Had she wanted to make any type of move on him, she could now confirm it would have failed. As soon as she was sitting up, Francesco fled the room like the devil had been on his heels.
"You can change, I am going to shower in the other room."
Eleanor had barely caught the end of the sentence before he vanished, causing her to sigh dejectedly. Instead of dwelling on it too much, Eleanor simply stood to shower, knowing that she would get him to crack before they ever returned to the real world.
Until then, he was hers.