by Cora Reilly
Hurt welled in me and I rolled over, away from him. Dante was into women, so why didn’t he want to sleep with me? What was wrong with me that after two wedding nights, I was still as untouched as the virgin snow? I wasn’t sure I could go through this again. I wanted to experience lust, wanted to be desired. With Antonio, I’d known trying to seduce him was a losing battle from the start, but with Dante I had to at least try. Even if he still loved his wife, he was a man. He had desires and I was perfectly capable of giving him what he physically needed, even if he kept his emotions locked away.
I listened to his calm breathing. Although we weren’t touching, I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He wasn’t an iceman. There had to be a way to crack his mask.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dante wasn’t in bed when I woke the next morning. His side of the bed was cold as I pressed my palm against it. Forcing my anger down, I made sure the door was closed before I slipped my hand into my panties. Over the years with Antonio, I’d learned to give myself pleasure with my fingers. I buried my face in Dante’s pillow, inhaling his musky scent, and imagined he was touching me as I stroked myself to an orgasm. Afterward, I lay on my back for a while, staring at the ceiling, wanting to cry and laugh at the same time.
I slipped out of bed, headed into the bathroom and took my time making myself presentable. I chose a form-fitting brown dress that ended above my knees and a cute red cashmere cardigan. Even if Dante didn’t care, I felt more comfortable if I put an effort into my outfits. I left the bedroom, hesitated and looked down the long corridor, wondering what hid behind the other doors. I’d have to explore at another time. Instead I moved down the staircase. I wasn’t sure if I was expected downstairs for breakfast. I didn’t know my new home, didn’t know the people who worked here, and worst of all: I didn’t know the master of the house, my husband.
The double doors were ajar and I approached them, then lingered in front of them for a moment before I walked inside. I’d expected Dante to be gone already and was surprised when I found him sitting at the dining table in the vast living and dining room. As with the rest of the house, the floor was dark wood, the walls light beige, and the furniture dark and imposing.
The newspaper hid Dante’s face, but he lowered it when he heard me entering. My brown heels clicked on the hardwood floor as I approached the table slowly, unsure of how to act around him. Antonio had been my friend first, and then my husband, but there was nothing between Dante and me. We were strangers.
The table was set for two people, but my plate wasn’t next to Dante’s—instead it had been set at the other end of the table. I stared at the distance between Dante and me, considered ignoring the set-up and sitting beside Dante, but then I lost courage and took my seat at the end of the table.
“I hope you slept well?” Dante asked in his smooth voice. He hadn’t put down the newspaper, still held on to it, and I had a feeling it would come up as a barrier between us again soon.
Was he being serious? “Too well,” I said, not able to stop the jibe. Didn’t he realize I’d expected a bit more from our first night together?
“I still have to prepare for a meeting with Luca. He’ll be here soon as he heads back to New York tonight, but I told him you’d be delighted to keep Aria company while we discuss business.”
I doubted Aria was in need of my company. She had her family here. This was a way to keep me occupied, nothing else. If he’d wanted a naïve wife, maybe he should have agreed to marry someone younger. But I liked Aria and it would have been rude to retract the invitation, so I smiled tightly. “That’s very considerate of you.” Sarcasm tinged my words. Now that we were married, it would be more difficult to keep up the polite mask.
Dante met my gaze, and there was something in his that made me lower my eyes and grab a croissant. I wasn’t hungry, but it was better than doing nothing. The rustling of paper drew my attention back to the other end of the table. As expected, Dante had disappeared behind his newspaper. Was this how he wanted our marriage to go? He hadn’t even showed me around the house yet. “Will you give me a tour of the premises? I can hardly host guests without knowing my way around the house.”
Dante lowered his newspaper again and folded it on the table. I felt the unreasonable urge to rip it into shreds. “You are right.”
Excitement bubbled up in me but quickly dissipated at his next words. “Gaby!”
A moment later, a door half-hidden behind a massive cupboard opened and a short teenage girl entered the room and headed toward Dante. “Yes, sir, how can I help you?”
I had trouble masking my surprise. Gaby looked like she belonged in high school. How could she be the maid in this house?
“My wife,” Dante said with a nod in my direction. Gaby turned toward me briefly with a shy smile. “—would like to get a tour of the house. I’m busy, so please show her around.”
Gaby nodded and walked toward me. “Would you like to go now?” Her voice was hesitant, but I could see curiosity in her eyes. I swallowed the last crumb of my croissant and poured coffee into my mug. “Yes, please. I’m going to take my coffee with me if that’s okay?”
Gaby’s eyes grew wide and she darted a look toward Dante, who was back to reading his newspaper. He didn’t look busy to me. If he had time to read the news, why couldn’t he show me around? But I wouldn’t cause a scene in front of Gaby. Dante must have felt Gaby and me watching him expectantly because he raised his eyes. “This is your home now, Valentina. You can do whatever you want.”
So he had been listening to our conversation. And I wondered if what he said was really the case. I wished I were more courageous so I could test the theory. I turned back to Gaby and cradled my mug in my hands. “Then let’s go.”
She nodded and led me toward the door she’d come through earlier. “We could start in the kitchen and staff room?”
“Do whatever you think is best,” I said. “You know the house better than I do.”
Again a shy smile flitted across her face. Behind the door was a narrow corridor, which led into a vast kitchen. Pots hung from hooks attached to the ceiling. Everything was stainless steel, and it reminded me more of a canteen kitchen than a place where family meals were prepared. A round older woman stood at the oven and checked the temperature. Inside what looked like a lamb roast was cooking. I assumed this was the cook, Zita. She turned around as she heard us enter and wiped her hands on her white apron. Her black hair had gray streaks in it and was secured in a hair net atop her head; I guessed she was in her mid-fifties.
“I’m giving our mistress a tour of the house,” Gaby said excitedly. I startled at the use of “mistress.” That sounded like I was a whip-wielding dominatrix. Maybe Dante was comfortable being called “sir,” but I definitely couldn’t live with “mistress.”
“Please call me Valentina,” I said quickly. “Both of you.” I smiled at Zita but she didn’t return the gesture. Her lips were pursed and she was scanning me from head to toe with a look of disapproval on her face.
“It would have been nice to meet you before the wedding,” Zita said haughtily.
I forced my face to remain calm even if I didn’t like her tone. I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with the staff in the house. “Dante never invited me, and I didn’t think it appropriate to invite myself.”
She huffed. “He introduced Mistress Carla to us before the wedding.”
I stiffened at the mention of Dante’s first wife, couldn’t help it. I could hear the judgment in her voice. She thought me less worthy than Carla. I had a feeling she wouldn’t let me forget it. I wasn’t looking forward to a battle of wills with her, and I definitely didn’t have the patience for it today. I looked around the kitchen instead, trying to pretend I wasn’t bothered by her comment. “So did Carla cook here often?”
Zita gave me a shocked look. “Of course not. She was the mistress of the house. She didn’t cook or clean. That’s what I and Febe did, before Gaby took Febe’s place.”
Gaby shifted nervously. It was clear that she didn’t know what to do.
“Well, you can expect me in the kitchen often. I love to cook,” I said.
Zita straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know if Master Dante will allow it.”
I took a sip from my coffee, returning her gaze steadily. “Dante told me I could do whatever I want.” She looked away from me with a frown. I knew it wasn’t over yet.
“Why don’t you show me the rest of the house, Gaby? I need to make sure I’m ready when Aria arrives.”
Gaby bobbed her head quickly. “Of course, Mis…Valentina.”
She led me into the room behind the kitchen. It seemed to be a sort of common room for the staff. There were two cots, a small TV and a couch. No chairs or table, but I assumed the staff usually gathered around the wooden table in the kitchen, since it obviously wasn’t used for Dante’s meals. There was also a small bathroom with a shower behind a white door. “Is this where you and Zita spend your time when you don’t work?”
Gaby shook her head. “We stay in the kitchen. This is mostly for the guards because they spend the nights.”
“Where are they now?” I hadn’t seen any guards so far.
“They are outside. Either patrolling the grounds or in their guardhouse.”
“Are there security cameras?”
“Oh no, Mr. Cavallaro didn’t want them. He’s a very private man.” No surprise there.
She headed toward another door. “This way.” We stepped into the back part of the lobby. Gaby pointed at the two doors in the hall. “This is Mr. Cavallaro’s office, and that’s the library. Mr. Cavallaro doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s in his office.” She flushed. “By us, I mean. He’s probably happy to be disturbed by you.” She bit her lip.
I touched her shoulder. “I understand. So are there other rooms on this floor?”
“Only the living and dining room, and the guest bathroom.”
As Gaby led me upstairs, I asked, “How old are you?”
“I’m seventeen.”
“Shouldn’t you still be going to school?” I sounded like my mother, but Gaby’s shy nature brought out my motherly side even though she was only six years younger than me.”
“I’ve been working for Mr. Cavallaro for three years. I came into this house shortly after his wife died. I never met her but Zita really misses her—that’s why she was rude to you.”
My eyes grew wide. “For three years? That’s horrible.”
“Oh no,” Gaby said quickly. “I’m thankful. Without Mr. Cavallaro I’d probably be dead, or worse.” She shuddered, a dark look passing in her eyes. I could tell that she didn’t want to talk about it. I’d have to ask Dante about her later. She quickened her pace and pointed at doors on this floor. “These are guest bedrooms. And beside your master bedroom, there’s a room you could use for your own purposes. The nursery and two additional rooms are on the third floor.”
My eyes rested on a door at the end of the corridor that Gaby had ignored. I headed in its direction. “What about this one?”
Gaby gripped my arm before I could turn the handle. “That’s where Mr. Cavallaro keeps his first wife’s things.”
I had trouble keeping a straight face. I couldn’t believe he still held on to the past. “Of course,” I said instead of what I was really thinking. It couldn’t be locked or Gaby wouldn’t have stopped me from opening it. I’d have to return alone, and find out more about the woman who was casting such a huge shadow on my marriage.
* * *
One hour later I showed Aria into the living room. It felt strange to act like the mistress of the house; it was as if I was an impostor. Aria looked tired when she sank down on the sofa beside me. Dark shadows spread under her eyes. I supposed she’d had a longer night than I did.
“Coffee?” I asked her. Gaby had set up a pot on the table, as well as assorted cookies.
“God yes,” Aria said, then smiled apologetically. “I didn’t even ask you about your night. You probably got less sleep than me.”
I poured her coffee and handed her the cup as I tried to come up with a reply. “I slept okay,” I said evasively.
Aria watched me curiously but she didn’t push the matter. “So have you and Dante had the chance to get to know each other better?”
“Not yet. There wasn’t any time.”
“Because of us?” Aria asked worriedly. “Luca and your husband have to discuss a few things regarding Matteo’s and Gianna’s wedding.” I could hear the strain in her voice.
“Gianna’s still not happy about it.”
Aria laughed into her cup. “That’s an understatement.”
“Maybe she just needs a bit more time. I remember how scared you were before your marriage to Luca, and now you two seem to get along just fine.” Of course I knew that appearances were deceiving. I didn’t know what went on behind closed doors.
“I know, but both Luca and I wanted to make it work. Right now, I think Gianna’s main goal is to make Matteo so sick of her that he cancels the wedding.”
“Not every couple works well together,” I said quietly.
“I’m sure you and Dante will manage just fine. You are both always so poised and controlled.”
I snorted. “I’m not nearly as poised as Dante.”
Aria smiled. “He is a bit cold on the outside, but as long as he thaws when he’s around you, everything’s all right.”
“So Luca isn’t always this scary?” I joked.
Aria’s cheeks tinged red. “No, he isn’t.”
Seeing Aria’s happiness gave me hope. If she could make it work with someone like Luca, then I could make it work with Dante.
Luca’s and Dante’s conversation lasted longer than expected and I was starting to worry. They weren’t exactly friends, but eventually they emerged and we decided to have lunch together. That’s why Zita had prepared a lamb roast, after all.
We settled down at the table. Unlike this morning, Dante didn’t sit at the head of the table. Instead he and I sat on one side while Luca and Aria took the seats across from us. The tension between Dante and Luca was palpable, and I started to wonder if lunch was really the best idea. Fortunately, Zita served the food only moments after we’d sat down, so we were busy enjoying the lamb, which lifted everyone’s spirits at least for a short while. But the moment our plates were empty, things went downhill quickly.
Dante’s face was even colder than usual. He looked as if he’d been carved out of marble. Luca didn’t look much happier, but the hardness of his mouth was accompanied by a fire in his eyes. I glanced between them, but it was obvious that they didn’t have anything else to say to each other beyond what had been discussed during their meeting.
Aria gave me a beseeching look.
As the hostess, it was my job to salvage the situation. “So when’s the wedding?”
Dante made a dismissive sound. “If things progress as they do now, never.”
“If things progress as they do now, there will be a red wedding,” Luca said sharply.
My eyebrows shot up, and Gaby, who’d come in with a new bottle of wine, froze.
“There won’t be a red wedding,” Aria said. She turned to Dante. “You could give Matteo another bride from the Outfit.”
I almost choked.
“Aria,” Luca said in warning. “Matteo won’t accept another bride. It’s either Gianna or no one.” He turned his hard gaze on Dante, who looked unimpressed. “I’m sure the Boss has enough control over his Famiglia to make sure Gianna complies.”
I waved Gaby toward the table. Maybe wine would distract the men from ripping into each other.
“I’m not concerned about the extent of my control. There are no members of the Outfit trying to overthrow me.” Dante bared his teeth in a smile that sent a shiver down my back. The two men looked like they were seconds away from pulling guns. I wasn’t sure who’d go out as the winner in such a fight. They’d probably both die, and plunge the Outfit and the
New York Famiglia back into open war with each other.
Luca rose, pushing back his chair in the process. Gaby, who had been about to fill his glass, yelped and dropped the wine bottle, her hands raised protectively in front of her face. For a moment, nobody moved. Dante stood as well. Only Aria and I were still sitting, almost frozen on our chairs.
“Don’t worry about New York. Just make sure you hold up your part of the bargain,” Luca snarled. He held out a hand and Aria took it, rising from her chair, before he added, “We need to catch a flight.” She gave me an apologetic smile.
I straightened, then glanced at Gaby. She still stood paralyzed beside the table, red wine pooling around her shoes. “I’ll show you out,” I said to Luca and Aria. As I led them into the lobby, Dante followed close behind as if he was worried Luca would do something to me, which was highly unlikely.
Dante and Luca didn’t shake hands, but I hugged Aria tightly. I wouldn’t let our husband’s fighting get in the way of our friendship. Or at least I’d try. If things really went downhill between Chicago and New York, I wouldn’t even be allowed to talk to Aria anymore. I watched them drive off, then I turned around to Dante, who was still standing behind me. “What was that all about?”
Dante shook his head. “My father should never have agreed to marry the second Scuderi daughter off to New York. This won’t end well.”
“But things between Aria and Luca seem to be going well, and the Outfit has worked together peacefully with New York for years now.”
“Theirs was a marriage of convenience, but Matteo Vitiello wants Gianna Scuderi because he’s gotten it in his head that he needs to have her. That’s not a good base for a decision. Emotions are a liability in our world.”
I blinked. Again his cool reasoning. “Have you never wanted something so badly you would have done anything to have it?” I knew it was the wrong question the moment the words left my mouth, but I couldn’t take it back.