Bound by Honor

by Cora Reilly

  There was a flicker of something, maybe respect in his expression. “The men waiting in that living room are predators. They prey on the weak and they’ve been waiting for more than a decade for a sign of weakness from me. The moment they see one, they’ll pounce.”

  “But your father—”

  “If my father thinks I’m too weak to control the Familia, he’ll gladly let them tear me apart.”

  What kind of life was it to have to be strong all the time even around your closest family? At least, I had my sisters and my brother, and even to some extent my mother and people like Valentina. Women were forgiven weakness in our world.

  Luca’s eyes were hard. Maybe this would be the moment he decided it really wasn’t worth the risk and take me, but when his gaze finally settled back on my face the darkness was at bay.

  “What about Matteo?”

  “I trust Matteo. But Matteo is hot-headed. He’d get himself killed trying to defend me.”

  It was strange talking to Luca, to my husband like this, almost like we knew each other. “Nobody will doubt me,” I said. “I’ll give them what they want to see.”

  Luca sat up and my eyes were drawn to the tattoo, then took in the muscles of his chest and stomach. My cheeks heated when I met Luca’s gaze.

  “You should be wearing more than this bad excuse for a nightgown when the harpies arrive. I don’t want them to see your body, especially your hips and upper thighs. It’s better when they wonder if I left marks on you,” he said. Then he smirked. “But we can’t hide your face from them.”

  He bent over me and his hand came toward my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, flinching.

  “This is the second time you thought I was going to hit you,” he said in a low voice.

  My eyes flew open. “I thought you said…” I trailed off.

  “What? That everyone expects you to have bruises on your face after a night with me? I don’t hit women.”

  I remembered when he’d stopped my father from slapping me. He’d never raised his hand against me. I knew many men in the Chicago Outfit had a strange code of rules they followed. You couldn’t stab a man in the back, but you could cut his throat that way for example. I wasn’t sure what made one better than the other. Luca seemed to have his own rules as well. Crushing someone’s throat with your bare hands was acceptable, hitting your wife was not.

  “How am I supposed to believe you can convince everyone we’ve consummated our marriage when you keep flinching away from my touch?”

  “Believe me, the flinching will make everyone believe the lie even more because I definitely wouldn’t have stopped flinching away from your touch if you’d taken what’s yours. The more I flinch the more they will take you for the monster you want them to think you are.”

  Luca chuckled. “I think you might know more about playing the game of power than I expected.”

  I shrugged. “My father is Consigliere.”

  He tilted his head in acknowledgement, then he brought his hand up and cupped my face. “What I meant earlier was that your face doesn’t look like you’ve been kissed.”

  My eyes widened. “I’ve never…” But of course he knew that already.

  His lips collided with mine and my palms came up against his chest, but I didn’t push him away. His tongue teased my lips, demanding entrance. I gave in and hesitantly touched my tongue to his. I wasn’t sure what to do and looked at Luca wide eyed, but he took lead, as his tongue and lips ravished my mouth. It was strange allowing that sort of intimacy, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I lost track of time as he kissed me, demanding and possessive, his hand warm against my cheek. His stubble rubbed against my lips and skin, but the friction made me tingle instead that it bothered me. I could feel the restrained strength as his body pressed against me. Eventually he pulled back, eyes dark with desire. I shivered, not only from fear.

  Insistent knocking sounded and Luca swung his legs out of bed and stood. I sucked in a breath at the sight of the bulge in his briefs.

  He smirked. “A man is supposed to have a boner when he wakes up beside his bride, don’t you think? They want a show, they’ll get a show.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “Now go and grab a bathrobe.”

  I quickly leaped out of bed with its stained bedsheet and hurried into the bathroom where I grabbed the long white satin bathrobe and put it over my nightgown before I picked up the remnants of my corset that I’d dropped last night.

  When I stepped back into the bedroom, I watched Luca putting his gun and knife holster on over his naked chest, another knife strap with a longer hunting knife onto his forearm covering the small cut, and reposition his stiffness so it was even more obvious.

  My cheeks hot, I moved further into the room and threw the corset down beside my ruined wedding dress. Luca was a magnificent sight with his tall frame, muscles and holster, not to mention the bulge in his pants. A hint of curiosity filled me. How did he look without the pants?

  I leaned against the wall beside the window and wrapped an arm around myself, suddenly worried that someone would realize Luca hadn’t slept with me. These were all married women. Would they see something wasn’t right?

  I braced myself when he opened the door wide, standing before the gathered women in all his half-naked glory. There were gasps, giggles and even a few muttered Italian words, which might have been prayers or curses, they were spoken too fast and quiet for me to hear. I had to stifle a snort.

  “We’ve come to collect the sheets,” Luca’s stepmother said in what was barely hidden glee.

  Luca stepped back, opening the door wider. At once several women stepped in, their eyes darting to the bed and the stain, then to me. I knew my face was red, even though it wasn’t my blood on the sheets. How could these women jump at the chance to see proof of my taken virginity? Didn’t they have any compassion? Maybe they thought it was only fair I went through the same as they had. I looked away, unable to bear their scrutiny. Let them make from that what they wanted. Most guests had left, especially politicians and other non-mafia folk; only the closest family was supposed to bear witness to the presentation of the sheets, but from the number of women gathered in the corridor and in the bedroom, you wouldn’t have known.

  Only women of marriage age were allowed to be present when the sheets were taken down – as not to frighten the pure virgin eyes of younger girls. I could see my aunts among the spectators, as well as my mother, Valentina and Bibiana, but the women from Luca’s family were in the front since it was their tradition, not ours. Now it is yours as well, I reminded myself with a twinge. Luca met my eyes briefly from across the room. We shared a secret now. I couldn’t help but feel grateful toward my husband, even though I didn’t want to be grateful for something like that. But in our world you had to be thankful for the smallest kindness, especially from a man like Luca, especially when he didn’t have to be kind.

  Luca’s stepmother Nina and his cousin Cosima began stripping the bed. “Luca,” Nina said with feigned indignation. “Did nobody tell you to be gentle to your virgin bride?”

  That actually got her a few embarrassed giggles and I lowered my eyes, even though I wanted to scowl at her. Luca did a fine job of that, then he flashed her a wolfish smile that raised the hairs on my neck. “You are married to my father. Does he strike you as a man who teaches his sons to be gentle to anyone.”

  Her lips thinned but she didn’t stop smiling. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me and squirmed under the attention. When I risked a peek toward my family, I could see shock and pity on many of their faces.

  “Let me through!” came Gianna’s panicked voice. My head shot up. She was fighting her way through the gathered women and avoided Mother who tried to stop her. Gianna wasn’t even supposed to be here. But when did Gianna ever do what she was supposed to do? She shoved a very thin woman out of her way and staggered into the bedroom. Her face flashed with disgust when she spotted the sheets Luca’s stepmother was holding up and spreading over Cosima’s outstretched arms.
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  Her eyes found my face, lingering on my swollen lips, disheveled hair and my arms, which were still wrapped around my middle. I wished there was a way to let her know I was fine, that it wasn’t as it looked, but not with all those women around us. She turned to Luca, who at least didn’t have a boner anymore. The look in her eyes would have sent most people running. Luca raised his eyebrows with a smirk.

  She took a step in his direction. “Gianna,” I said quietly. “Will you help me get dressed?” I let my arms fall to my sides and walked toward the bathroom, trying to wince now and then as if I was sore and hoping I wasn’t overdoing it. I’d never seen a bride, or anyone else, after they’d supposedly lost their virginity. The moment the door closed behind Gianna and me, she threw her arms around me. “I hate him. I hate them all. I want to kill him.”

  “He didn’t do anything,” I murmured.

  Gianna pulled back and I put my finger to my lips. Confusion filled her face. “What do you mean?”

  “He didn’t force me.”

  “Just because you didn’t fight him doesn’t mean it wasn’t rape.”

  I covered her mouth with my hand. “I’m still a virgin.”

  Gianna stepped back so my hand dropped from her lips. “But the blood,” she whispered.

  “He cut himself.”

  She stared at me in disbelief. “Do you have Stockholm syndrome?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Shh. I’m telling the truth.”

  “Then why the show?”

  “Because nobody can know. Nobody. Not even Mother or Lily. You can’t tell anyone, Gianna.”

  Gianna frowned. “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like to hurt me.”

  “That man would kill a baby fawn if it looked at him the wrong way.”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “Neither do you.” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me you trust him now. Just because he didn’t fuck you last night doesn’t mean he won’t do it soon. Maybe he prefers to do it in his penthouse with a view over New York. You are his wife and any man with a working dick would want to get into your pants.”

  “Father really wasted all of his lady comments on you,” I said with a smile. Gianna kept glaring. “Gianna, I knew when I married Luca that I would have to sleep with him eventually, and I accepted that. But I’m glad that I get the chance to at least get to know him a bit better first.” Though I wasn’t sure I’d like the parts of him I’d get to know. But his kisses hadn’t been unpleasant at all. My skin still warmed when I thought of it. And Luca definitely was nice to look at. Not that good looks could cancel out cruelness, but so far he hadn’t been cruel to me, and somehow I thought he wouldn’t be, at least not intentionally.

  Gianna sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She sank down on the toilet lid. “I didn’t sleep all night from worry about you. Couldn’t you have sent me a text saying Luca didn’t pop your cherry?”

  I began undressing. “Sure. And then Father or Umberto check your mobile and see it, and I’m doomed.”

  Gianna’s eyes scanned me from head to toe as I stepped into the shower, probably still looking for a sign that Luca had manhandled me.

  “You still have to act as if you hate Luca when you see him later, or people will get suspicious,” I told her.

  “Don’t worry. That won’t be a problem because I still hate him for taking you away from me, and for being him. I don’t believe for one second that he’s capable of kindness.”

  “Luca can’t know I told you either.” I turned the shower on and let the hot water wash away the last hints of tiredness. I needed to be fully alert for the show in the living room later. My tense muscles began relaxing as the stream of water massaged them.

  “You can’t come in,” Gianna said angrily, startling me. “I don’t care that you are her husband.” I opened my eyes to see Luca pushing his way into the bathroom. Gianna stepped in his way. I quickly turned my back to them.

  “I need to get ready,” Luca growled. “And there’s nothing here that I haven’t already seen.”

  Liar. “Now leave, or you’ll see your first cock, girl, because I’m going to undress now.”

  “You arrogant asshole, I—”

  “Leave!” I shouted.

  Gianna left, but not without calling Luca by a few choice words. The door banged shut and we were alone. I wasn’t sure what Luca was doing and I wouldn’t turn around to check. I couldn’t hear him from the splashing of the water. I knew I couldn’t stay in the shower forever, so I shut off the water and faced the room.

  Luca was spreading shaving cream on his chin with a brush, but his eyes were watching me in the mirror. I resisted the urge to cover myself, even though I felt a blush spreading over my body. He set the brush down and reached for one of the plush bath towels hanging over the heated towel rack, then walked over to me, still in his briefs. I opened the shower and took the towel from him with a quick thanks. He didn’t move, eyes unfathomable as they roamed my body. I wrapped the towel around myself, then stepped out. Without high heels, the top of my head only reached Luca’s chest.

  “I bet you’re already regretting your decision,” I said quietly. I didn’t need to explain; he knew what I meant.

  Without a word, he returned to the wash table, picked up the brush and resumed what he’d been doing before. I was on my way into the bedroom, when his voice startled me, “No.” I glanced back and met his eyes. “When I claim your body I want you writhing beneath me in pleasure and not fear.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I was already dressed in an orange summer maxi dress and a golden belt to accentuate my waist when Luca stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. I sat on the chair in front of my vanity, putting on make-up, but froze with the mascara brush inches from my eye when I saw Luca. He walked toward the wardrobe and picked out black pants and a white shirt before he dropped his towel without shame. I didn’t look away fast enough and was rewarded with his firm backside. I lowered my eyes and busied myself with checking my nails until I dared to face the mirror again and put on mascara.

  Luca buttoned his shirt, except for the upper two. He strapped a knife to his forearm and rolled the sleeve over it, then put a gun holster around his calf. I turned around. “Do you ever go anywhere without guns?” No chest holster today because it couldn’t be hidden well with only a white shirt.

  “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 make a difference 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 were sitting 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 lunch time. 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.