by Cora Reilly
“Not if I can avoid it.” He considered me. “Do you know how to shoot a gun or use a knife?”
“No. My father doesn’t think women should get involved in fights.”
“Sometimes fights come to you. The Bratva and the Triad don’t distinguish between men and women.”
“So you’ve never killed a woman?”
His expression tightened. “I didn’t say that.” I waited for him to elaborate but he didn’t. Maybe it was for the best.
I stood, smoothing out my dress, nervous about meeting my father and Salvatore Vitiello after the wedding night. “Good choice,” Luca said. “The dress covers your legs.”
“Someone could lift the skirt and inspect my thighs.”
It was meant as a joke, but Luca’s lips pulled into a snarl. “Someone tries to touch you, they lose their hand.”
I didn’t say anything. His protectiveness thrilled and scared me in equal parts. He waited for me at the door and I approached him uncertainly. His words from the bathroom still rang in my ears. Writhe in pleasure. I wasn’t sure I was even close to being relaxed enough around him for anything coming close to pleasure. Gianna was right. I couldn’t allow myself to trust him that easily. He could be manipulating me.
He rested his hand on my lower back as we walked out. When we reached the top of the stairs, I could already hear conversation, and a few scattered guests were talking in small groups in the huge entrance hall.
I froze. “Are they all waiting to see a bloody sheet?” I whispered, appalled.
Luca peered down at me, smirking. “Many of them, especially the women. The men might hope for dirty details, others might hope to talk about business, ask a favor, get on my good side.” He gently pressed me forward and we walked down the steps.
Romero was waiting at the foot of the stairs, his brown hair in disarray. He tilted his head toward Luca, then gave me a brief smile. “How are you?” he asked me, then grimaced, the tips of his ears actually turning red.
Luca chuckled. I didn’t know any of the other men in the hall, but they all gave Luca winks or broad grins. Embarrassment crept up my neck. I knew what they were all thinking, could practically feel them undressing me with their eyes. I shifted closer to Luca and he curled his fingers around my waist.
“Matteo and the rest of your family are in the dining room.”
“Poring over the sheets?”
“As if they could read them like tea leaves,” Romero confirmed, then gave me an apologetic look. He didn’t seem to suspect anything.
“Come,” Luca said, nudging me toward the double doors. The moment we stepped into the dining room, every pair of eyes was on us. The women of the family were gathered on one side of the room, divided into small clusters, while the men sat around the long dining table, which was piled with ciabatta, grapes, ham, mortadella, cheese, fruit platters, and biscotti. I realized I was actually quite hungry. It was already almost lunchtime. Matteo snuck up beside Luca and me, an espresso in his hand.
“You look like shit,” Luca said.
Matteo nodded. “My tenth espresso and I’m still not awake. Drank too much last night.”
“You were trashed,” Luca said. “I’d have had your tongue cut out for some of the things you said to Aria if you weren’t my brother.”
Matteo grinned at me. “I hope Luca didn’t do half of the things I suggested.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Matteo still made me nervous. He exchanged a look with Luca, who ran a thumb over my side, making me jump.
“Quite a work of art you presented us,” Matteo said with a nod toward the back of the room, where the sheets were draped over a coat rack for better display.
I tensed. What did he mean?
But Luca didn’t look worried; instead he shook his head. Salvatore Vitiello and my father were waving at us to join them, and it would have been impolite to make them wait any longer. Father rose when we arrived at the table and wrapped me in his arms. I was surprised by this open display of affection. He touched the back of my head and whispered, “I’m proud of you.”
I gave him a forced smile when we pulled apart. Proud for what? For losing my virginity? For spreading my legs?
Salvatore put a hand on my and Luca’s shoulders, and gave us a smile. “I hope we can expect small Vitiellos soon.”
I managed not to let my shock show. Hadn’t Luca mentioned that I was on birth control?
“I want to enjoy Aria alone for a long while. And with the Bratva closing in, I wouldn’t want to have children to worry over,” Luca said tightly. There was no word to describe how relieved I was about Luca’s words. I really wasn’t ready for children. I’d already had enough changes thrown my way without the added bonus of a baby.
His father nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. Understandable.”
After that they launched into a conversation about the Bratva, and it became pretty clear I was dismissed. I slipped out of Luca’s grasp and walked toward the women. Gianna met me halfway. “Disgusting,” she muttered with a scowl toward the sheets.
“I know.”
I looked around, but couldn’t see Fabiano or Lily. “Where are—”
“Upstairs in their room with Umberto. Mother didn’t want them to be there for the reveal of the sheets.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. Those women have been sharing their bloody sheet stories for hours. What the fuck is wrong with the New York Famiglia? If I hear one more word about it, I’m going to give them a real bloodbath.”
“Now that I’m here, I doubt they’ll be talking about anything but the bloody sheets over there,” I muttered. It turned out I was right. Almost every woman felt the need to hug me and offer me words of advice that only made me nervous. It’ll get better. Sometimes it takes a bit for a woman to be comfortable. And the best: Believe me, it took me years to enjoy it.
Valentina didn’t say anything as she wrapped her arms around me, just touched her palm to my cheek and smiled, before stepping back to make room for another woman. Mother kept her distance. I wasn’t sure why. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, disapproval written across her face. I was glad she wasn’t sharing stories of her wedding night with Father. I stepped toward her and she pulled me into a tight hug. Like my father, she wasn’t an overly affectionate person, but I was glad for her closeness. “”I wish I could have protected you from all this,” she whispered before pulling back. There was a flicker of guilt on her face. I nodded. I didn’t blame her. What could she have done? Father wouldn’t have let her talk him out of the agreement.
“Luca can’t stop watching you. You must have left quite an impression on him,” Luca’s stepmother said teasingly.
I turned to her and smiled politely. Luca probably just wanted to make sure I didn’t give away our secret by accident. From the corner of my eye, I saw the door at the back open and Lily slink in, followed by Fabiano. They’d probably used Umberto’s toilet break to get away. Gianna made a face when our brother stopped in front of the sheets.
I excused myself and walked over to them with Gianna at my heels. Mother was wrapped up in overly polite conversation with Luca’s stepmother.
“What are you doing here, you little monster?” Gianna asked, grasping Fabiano’s shoulders.
“Why’s there blood on the sheets?” he half shouted. “Has someone been killed?”
Gianna burst into laughter while Lily looked honestly distressed by the sight of the sheets. I supposed it burst her bubble of fairy-tale princes and lovemaking under the stars. The men at the table behind us also started laughing, and Fabiano’s face scrunched up in anger. Although he was only eight, he had a temper. I hoped he’d calm down soon, or he’d get in trouble once he was initiated. Gianna ruffled his hair.
“Are you going to New York with Luca?” Fabiano asked suddenly.
I bit my lip. “Yeah.”
“But I want you to come home with us.”
I blinked, trying to hide my anguish over h
earing him say that. “I know.”
Lily tore her eyes away from the sheets for a moment. “Won’t you go on a honeymoon?”
“Not right now. The Russians and the Taiwanese are giving Luca trouble.”
Fabiano nodded as if he understood, and maybe he did. With every year that passed he’d learn more of the dark world we lived in.
“Stop staring at the sheets,” Gianna said in a low voice, but Lily seemed too caught up in the sight.
Her face scrunched up. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and steered her outside. She shook in my grip.
“Hold it back,” I ordered as we half ran out of the room, everyone’s eyes following us. We stumbled into the hall. “Where’s the bathroom?” This mansion had too many rooms.
Romero motioned us to the end of the hall and opened a door, then closed it when we were inside. I held Lily’s hair as she threw up in the toilet bowl, then made her sit down on the ground. I wiped her face with a wet towel and a bit of soap. “I still feel strange.”
“Put your head between your knees.” I crouched before her. “What’s the matter?”
She gave a small shrug.
“I’ll get you some tea.” I straightened.
“Don’t let Romero see me like this.”
“Romero isn’t…” I trailed off. Lily obviously had a crush on him. It was futile, but I could at least allow her that small fantasy, when the sight of the sheets had already distressed her so much. “I’ll keep him out,” I promised instead and slipped out of the bathroom.
Romero and Luca waited in front of it.
“Is your sister okay?” Luca asked. Was he actually concerned or only polite?
“The sheets made her queasy.”
Romero’s expression darkened. “They shouldn’t allow young girls to witness something like that. It’ll only scare them.”
He glanced at Luca as if catching himself. But Luca waved dismissively. “You are right.”
“Lily needs some tea.”
“I can get it for her, and stay with her so you can return to your guests,” Romero suggested.
I smiled. “That’s nice, but Lily doesn’t want you to see her.”
Romero frowned. “Is she scared of me?”
“You sound like that isn’t a possibility,” I said with a laugh. “You are a soldier of the mafia. What’s not to be scared of?” I decided not to play with him anymore and lowered my voice. “But that’s not it. Lily has a major crush on you and doesn’t want you to see her like that.” That, and I didn’t want any of Luca’s men alone with Lily until I knew them better.
Luca grinned. “Romero, you still got it. Capturing the hearts of fourteen-year-old girls left and right.” Then he turned his attention to me. “But we have to return. The women will be mortally offended if you don’t give them all your attention.”
“I’ll take care of Lily,” Gianna said, appearing in the hall with Fabiano.
I smiled. “Thanks,” I said as I brushed her hand in passing. The moment I was back in the dining room, the women flocked around me again, trying to extract more details from me. I pretended to be too embarrassed to speak about it—which I would have been, if it had taken place—and only gave them vague answers. Guests eventually started to leave, and I knew it would soon be time to say goodbye to my family and embark on my new life.
* * *
Fabiano pressed his face against my ribs almost painfully and I stroked his hair, feeling him tremble. Father was watching with a disapproving frown. He thought Fabiano was too old to show emotions like that, as if a boy couldn’t be sad. They would have to leave for the airport soon. Father needed to return to Chicago to conduct business as usual. I wished they could have stayed longer, but Luca and I would leave for New York today as well.
Fabiano sniffed, then pulled back, looking up at me. Tears pressed against my eyes but I held them back. If I started crying now, things would only get harder for everyone, especially Gianna and Lily. They both hovered a couple of steps behind Fabiano, waiting for their turn to say goodbye. Father stood already beside the black rental Mercedes, impatient to leave.
“I will see you again soon,” I promised, but I wasn’t sure when soon would be. Christmas? That was still four months away. The thought settled like a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach.
“When?” Fabiano jutted out his lower lip.
“Soon.”
“We don’t have forever. The plane will leave without us,” Father said sharply. “Come here, Fabiano.”
With a last longing look at me, Fabiano shuffled over to Father, who immediately began scolding him. My heart felt so heavy, I wasn’t sure how it could remain in my chest without crushing my ribs. Luca pulled up behind the Mercedes in his steel-gray Aston Martin Vanquish and got out, but my attention shifted to Lily, who threw her arms around me, and after a moment Gianna joined in the hug. My sisters, my best friends, my confidantes, my world.
I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I never wanted to let them go. I wanted to take them with me to New York. They could live in our apartment, or even get their own. At least then I’d have someone whom I loved and who loved me back.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Lily whispered between hiccupped sobs. Gianna didn’t say anything. She only pressed her face into the crook of my neck and cried. Gianna, who almost never cried. My strong, impulsive Gianna. I wasn’t sure how long we held on to each other, and I didn’t care who saw this open display of weakness. Let them all see what true love meant. Most of them would never experience it.
“We have to leave,” Father called. Gravel crunched.
I lifted my face. Mother walked up to us, briefly touched my cheek, then took Lily’s arm and led her away from me. Another piece of myself gone. Gianna didn’t loosen her iron grip on me.
“Gianna!” Father’s voice was like a whip.
She raised her head, eyes red, her freckles standing out even more. We locked gazes and for a moment neither of us said anything. “Call me every day. Every single day,” Gianna said fiercely. “Swear it.”
“I swear,” I choked out.
“Gianna, for Christ’s sake! Do I have to come get you?”
She backed away from me slowly, then she whirled around and practically fled into the car. I walked a few steps after them as their car drove down the long driveway. Neither of my sisters turned around. When they finally turned a corner and were gone, I was strangely relieved. I cried for myself for a while, and nobody interrupted me. Yet I knew I wasn’t alone. At least, not in the physical sense.
When I finally turned around, Luca and Matteo stood on the steps behind me. Luca stared at me with a look I didn’t have the energy to read. He probably thought me pathetic and weak. That was the second time I’d cried in front of him. But today hurt worse. He came down the steps while Matteo stayed behind.
“Chicago isn’t the end of the world,” Luca said calmly.
He couldn’t understand. “It might as well be. I’ve never been separated from my sisters and brother. They were my whole world.”
Luca didn’t say anything. He gestured to his car. “We should leave. I have a meeting tonight.”
I nodded. Nothing kept me here. Everyone I cared about was gone.
“I’ll be behind you,” Matteo said, then headed for a motorcycle.
I sank into the taupe-colored leather seats of the Aston Martin. Luca closed the door, walked around the hood and settled behind the steering wheel.
“No bodyguard?” I asked tonelessly.
“I don’t need bodyguards. Romero is for you. And this car doesn’t exactly have room for additional passengers.” He started the engine, the deep rumbling filling the inside. I faced the window as we drew away from the Vitiello mansion. It felt surreal that my life could change so drastically because of a wedding. But it had, and would only change even more.
CHAPTER NINE
The drive to New York passed in silence. I was glad Luca hadn’t
tried to make conversation. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and sadness. Soon skyscrapers rose up around the car as we crept through New York at a glacial pace. I didn’t care. The longer the drive took, the longer I could pretend I didn’t have a new home, but eventually we pulled into an underground garage. We got out of the car without a word and Luca took our bags from the trunk. Most of my belongings had already been brought to Luca’s apartment a few days ago, but this would be the first time I saw where he lived.
I lingered next to the car as Luca headed for the elevator doors. He glanced over his shoulder and stopped as well. “Thinking about running?”
Every single day.
I walked up to him. “You would find me,” I said simply.
“I would.” There was steel in his voice. He jabbed a card into a slot and the elevator doors glided open, revealing marble, mirrors and a small chandelier. The opulence made it clear that this wasn’t a normal apartment building. We stepped inside, and nerves twisted my stomach.
I’d been alone with Luca last night and during the ride here, but the thought of being alone in his penthouse was somehow worse. This was his kingdom. Who was I kidding? Pretty much all of New York was his empire. He leaned against the mirrored wall and watched me as the elevator began its ascent. I wished he’d say something, anything, really. It would distract me from the panic rising up my throat. My eyes flitted to the screen showing which floor we were on. We were already on floor twenty and hadn’t stopped yet.
“The elevator is private. It leads only to the last two floors of the building. My penthouse is at the top, and Matteo has his apartment on the floor below.”
“Can he come into our penthouse whenever he wants?”
Luca scanned my face. “Are you scared of Matteo?”
“I’m scared of the both of you. But Matteo seems more volatile, while I doubt you’d ever do anything you haven’t thought through. You seem like someone who’s always firmly in control.”
“Sometimes I lose control.”