by Cora Reilly
I had trouble keeping a straight face. “Of course,” I said instead. 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; 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 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 make it work. 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 alright.”
“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 food only moments after we’d sat down, so we were busy enjoying the lamb, which lifted the 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 it had been carved out of marble. Luca didn’t look much happier, but the hardness of his mouth was accompanied by a fiery 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 Familia 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.” He 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 Familia 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. “We need to catch a flight.” She gave me an apologetic smile.
I straightened, then glanced at Gabi. 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.
His cool eyes met mine. “Yes. But we don’t always get what we want.” He was talking about his wife. He wanted her back.
I swallowed hard and nodded. “I should call Bibiana. I want to meet her tomorrow.”
I turned around and headed up the stairs, feeling Dante’s gaze on me the entire time. I was glad he couldn’t see my face.
CHAPTER SIX
After my short call with Bibiana, I’d retired into the library. It was stocked mainly with non-fiction and old classics, nothing I was usually drawn to, but I didn’t want to go in search for Dante, nor did I want to ask my mother if she wanted to come over. She would have thought something was wrong, and even though that was probably the case, I didn’t want her to find out. She’d been so happy since she found out I was going to be Dante’s wife. I didn’t want to ruin it for her by admitting that Dante couldn’t care less about my presence.
I grabbed a book that taught basic Russian. The only languages I spoke were Italian and English. I might as well get familiar with the language our enemies spoke, and it would keep me occupied in the hours Dante was busy ignoring me.
Eventually, the growling of my stomach lured me in the direction of the kitchen. It was already almost seven but nobody had called me for dinner. As I entered the kitchen, I found Zita, Gaby and two men gathered around the wooden table, eating dinner together.
I hesitated in the doorway, unsure if I should enter, but then Zita glanced my way and I couldn’t back out anymore. I slipped inside, feeling acutely overdressed in my sleek brown dress. Everyone turned my way, and the two men rose immediately. They wore gun and knife holsters over their black shirts. Both were in their late thirties, and probably the guards.
“The Master has already had dinner in his office,” Zita informed me.
“I was busy reading anyway,” I said, hoping I sounded indifferent. I focused on the two men still standing and watching me. “We haven’t met yet.”
I strode toward them and I extended my hand to the taller man with a buzz cut and a scar in his eyebrow. “I’m Valentina.”
“Enzo,” he said.
“Taft,” said the other man. He was a couple of inches smaller but much bulkier.
“Can I join you for a quick dinner?” I might just as well try to get familiar with the people I would see every day in the next few years, maybe longer.
Both men agreed at once. Gaby, too, seemed excited about the prospect of my presence; only Zita had trouble hiding her disapproval. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She gestured at the spread of cheeses, the Parma ham and the lovely Italian bread.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t,” I said as I took the seat beside Taft. He held up a bottle of wine. I nodded and took one of the rustic wine glasses from a tray at the end of the table. The wine was delicious and so was the food. I kept my eyes on Gaby, who thankfully wasn’t drinking wine. Taft and Enzo didn’t look at her in any way that would suggest they were interested in her, which calmed me further, but I couldn’t forget the look of fear on her face when Luca had jumped to his feet. Of course he was a scary guy on the best of days, but there had been more. I had a feeling that Gaby had learned to fear men. I only needed to find out why. Taft and Enzo stopped after their second glass of wine; they still had guard duty until the morning and could hardly do their job drunk, but Zita and I emptied the bottle. With alcohol in her bloodstream, Zita seemed much nicer. Or maybe my own tipsiness made me blind to her rudeness. Either way, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. The men knew how to tell dirty jokes, and soon forgot that I was practically their boss.
After another particularly lewd joke that had Gaby hiding her face in her hands and me laughing like I hadn’t laughed in a long time, the door to the kitchen opened and Dante stepped in. His eyes did a quick scan of the room until they settled on his men, then me. His jaw tensed as he glowered at Taft and Enzo. “Shouldn’t you be outside keeping guard?” Dante asked in a dangerously quiet voice.
Both men stood at once. They fled the kitchen without another word.
“Gaby and I should head home too. We’ll clean the kitchen tomorrow,” Zita said as she grabbed her coat and put it on. “Come on, Gaby.” Gaby shot me an apologetic look, although she’d done nothing wrong.
Two minutes later, Dante and I were alone in the kitchen. I had done nothing forbidden, so I had no intention of apologizing. I emptied my red wine, my eyes on Dante, who seemed to become perfectly still as he watched me. Preparing to pounce, it shot through my head. I rose from my chair. In a standing position, at least, I didn’t have to tilt my head all the way back to look Dante in the eyes.
“Why did you eat with Enzo and Taft?”
I almost laughed. “Gaby and Zita were there too.” Was he jealous? Or did he think I was distracting the men from work?
“You could have eaten in the dining room.”
“Alone?” I asked in a challenging tone.
Dante advanced on me, and despite my best intentions I froze. “I don’t play games, Valentina. If there’s something you don’t like, then say it and don’t try to provoke me.”
He stood so close, the spicy scent of his aftershave flooded my nose. I had to fight the urge to grab him by his lapels and pull him in for a kiss.
“I wasn’t trying to provoke you,” I said matter-of-factly. “I was hungry and I didn’t want to eat by myself, so I decided to eat in the kitchen.”
“You should keep your distance to the guards. I don’t want people to misconstrue your friendliness with something else.”
I took a step back. “Are you accusing me of flirting with your men?”
“No,” he said simply. “We would have a different kind of conversation if I thought you were flirting with them.”
I raised my chin, unwilling to let him intimidate me, no matter how intimidating he was. “I won’t eat alone.”
“Would you prefer we have dinner together every night?”
“Of course, I do,” I said exasperatedly. There were many things I wanted to do together with him at night. “We are married. Isn’t that what married people do?”
“Did you and Antonio eat together?”
“Yes, unless he was away for work.” Or had a date with his lover Frank.
Dante nodded, as if he was filing away the information. I’d heard someone once say that he had a photographic memory, which made him a difficult opponent to outsmart, but I wasn’t sure if it was true.
I softened my voice. “What about you and your first wife? Did you eat together?”
I could practically see his defenses coming up. A veil of cold emotionlessness seemed to slide over his face. He pushed up his sleeve, revealing his gold watch. “It’s late. I have an early morning with meetings in our casinos.”
“Oh, sure.”
“You don’t have to go to bed if you’re not tired.”
“No, the wine’s making me sleepy.” We both walked out of the kitchen and headed upstairs. This time Dante disappeared in the bathroom first. I rummaged in my drawer for a skimpy satin camisole and matching panties that barely covered my butt. Maybe that would get Dante’s cold blood boiling.
I nervously paced the bedroom, wondering if tonight would be the night. Maybe yesterday had been a sort of grace period. The door of the bathroom opened and Dante stepped back into the bedroom. Like yesterday he was naked from the waist up. I allowed myself a few moments to admire his body. Even the scars didn’t make him any less gorgeous. If possible they added to his sexiness. Dante paused and I quickly tore my eyes away and rushed into the bathroom.
I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth before I slipped into my lingerie. Showtime. I stepped out of the bathroom. Dante was already in bed, his iPad in hand and back propped up against the headboard. He looked up, eyes wandering the length of my body, lingering on all the right places. Anticipation mixed with nerves filled me as I slowly walked toward the bed, making sure Dante got a good look at me. He hadn’t looked away yet, but he hadn’t put down his iPad either. I stretched out beside him, my back against the headboard. I didn’t bother pulling the covers up. I wanted Dante to see as much of me as possible.
I met his gaze. As usual his eyes were unreadable, but they weren’t quite as cool as usual. He set the iPad down on his nightstand and I almost sighed with relief, but then he shifted and lay down. Confused, I did the same, but I rolled onto my side, facing his way. He hadn’t turned the lights out yet. That had to be a good sign, and I knew he kept glancing toward my breasts. If I was more experienced, I would have initiated things, but I worried about revealing my inexperience to Dante if I risked it. If he made the first move, I could go along with him and would hopefully appear like the experienced woman I was supposed to be.
Dante tore his gaze away, closed his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his stomach. His jaw was locked tightly. Was he angry? He looked like he was on the verge of bursting. Maybe he didn’t like that I was being so forward and practically shoving my breasts into his face. Maybe he preferred his women demure and scared of their own shadow.
Frustrated, I rolled onto my back as well. “What happened to Gaby?” If we didn’t have sex, we might as well talk. Anything was better than the awkward silence.
Dante kept his eyes closed. “What do you mean?”
“She said she’s been working for you for three years, but she’s only seventeen. Shou
ldn’t she be going to school?”
Dante’s eyes peeled open, cool and blue, and firmly focused on the ceiling. “Three years ago we attacked two Russian clubs as retribution. They’re making the majority of their money with human trafficking. The women in their clubs are mostly sex slaves. Women and girls who were kidnapped and then forced into prostitution. When we took over the two clubs, we had to figure out what to do with the women. We couldn’t let them run around Chicago after what they’d witnessed.”
My stomach turned. “You killed them?”
Dante didn’t even twitch. “Most of them were illegals. We sent them back into the Ukraine or Russia. The others were relocated. Those who wanted to work in our clubs, we kept.”
“So what about Gaby?”
“She was a child. The younger girls we found were sent to families, where they could work as maids or cooks.”
“Or become mistresses,” I said, because I had no doubt that some Made Men couldn’t let their hands off a helpless girl under their roof.
Dante frowned. “Even among Made Men, pedophilia isn’t tolerated, Valentina.”
“I know, but Gaby doesn’t exactly look like a child anymore, nor do the other girls you captured, I presume.”
Dante fixed me with a hard glare. “Are you suggesting I touched Gaby?”
“She almost died from fear today when Luca moved. Maybe one of your men…”
“No,” Dante said firmly. “She hasn’t been abused in any way since she came into this house. She’s under my protection. My men know that.”
“Okay.” I believed him, and I also believed that none of his men dared to go against Dante’s direct orders. If Gaby was under his protection, she was safe. “I bet those girls would have made you a lot of money. There’s a reason why the Russians kidnap young girls. Why the qualms? It’s not like the Outfit hasn’t its own clubs with prostitutes, and it’s not like those women can just stop working for the mob whenever they want.” I was honestly curious. Dante was a killer after all.
“The Outfit isn’t in the business of sex slaves. The women in our clubs start working for us on their own free will and they know that they’ll be bound to us forever. We make enough money with our casinos and drugs, we don’t need sex slaves or illegal racing like the Russians and the Familia in Las Vegas.”