by Cora Reilly
Right?
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Aren’t you in love with Matteo?”
“Why would you think I was? I ran away, remember?”
“But you’re married now.”
“Marriage doesn’t equal love.”
“It did for Aria,” Lily said. My eyes darted to Aria who was frowning at me.
“You’re right. Maybe you should ask her then.” Before Lily could say another word, I handed the phone to Aria. “Lily wants to know how it feels to be in love.”
Aria took the phone from me, her blue eyes full of concern. She listened to Lily for a moment before she said, “That’s hard to put into words. Love is when you feel safe in someone’s arms, when he’s the first thing you want to see in the morning, love is surrendering. You risk getting hurt but you don’t care. You are willing to give someone the power to break your heart. Love means seeing someone at their worst and still seeing the good in them, love means someone is perfect for you despite their imperfections.” She grew quiet, eyes distant.
I didn’t have to ask; I knew about whom she was thinking. I swallowed hard. I could have never said what Aria had just said. Unwantedly an image of Matteo’s cocky grin flashed in my mind. I’d definitely seen him at his worst that day he’d tortured the Russians.
“But how do I know when I’m in love?” I heard Lily’s whine through the phone.
Yes, how?
“It’s a gradual process. I don’t really know when exactly I started loving Luca. For a long time I thought I hated him.”
I pushed to my feet, suddenly restless. This wasn’t a topic I felt comfortable with. It made my chest feel tight, made me start to panic in an odd way. I hurried into the kitchen and made myself another cup of coffee. After a couple of sips, I returned to Aria who gave me a questioning look. I raised my cup as a way of explanation. “Here,” she said, handing the phone back to me.
“So what else is new?” I asked lightly.
I could practically hear Lily roll her eyes. “Are you going to come to our Christmas party?”
I opened my mouth to say yes, because I’d always been there, then I realized I probably wasn’t wanted anymore. “I don’t know. Things are difficult at the moment.”
“You mean Father doesn’t want you to come.”
“The only reason I would want to come are you and Fabi. I don’t care about anyone else. And maybe you and Fabi can come visit New York in the New Year.”
Lily was silent. “Father said he won’t ever allow us to go to New York again after what you did.”
That shouldn’t have shocked me as much as it did, I suppose. Of course he wouldn’t let Lily out of his sight. He couldn’t risk another one of his daughters turning into a slut. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll ask Matteo if we’re going to Chicago.”
Facing Father again was the last thing I wanted to do. For all I cared I would never set foot on Chicago ground again, but the idea of never seeing Fabi and Lily again was even worse.
“Promise?”
“I promise,” I said. “Now give me Fabi before Father realizes you’re talking to me and not Aria.”
“Hi,” came Fabi’s voice.
“I bet you’ve grown another two inches since I last saw you.”
“When I grow up I’ll be at least 6 feet tall,” he said proudly.
“6 feet 4 at least. You’ll probably be taller than Luca.”
“That would be so cool. I could kick everyone’s ass. Everybody would have to be nice to me and respect me.”
I smiled wistfully. Soon enough people would do that anyway. The cute boy would be replaced by a ruthless killer. “That would be cool,” I agreed. “So do you have any new knives?”
Fabi had a huge collection of knives. A bigger collection of knives a ten year old should have. Of course Father supported my brother’s fascination with weapons.
“No,” Fabi said, sulking. “Father is angry at me.”
“Because of me?”
Fabi didn’t say anything at first but I knew he was shrugging in that cute way he had. “I don’t like how he screamed at you.”
“I don’t like it either, but you have to try not to make Father angry too often, Fabi. I don’t want you to get punished.” Now that I wasn’t available as Father’s favorite punching bag, I worried Fabi might have to bear the brunt of his anger.
“Okay,” he said. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
We hung up and I handed the phone back to Aria.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I nodded half-heartedly. “The party is next weekend, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess I’m not invited?”
Aria grimaced. “Even Luca and I aren’t sure if we should be going.”
“Why?”
“Things are really bad right now. Luca has enough trouble in New York. And he doesn’t want to deal with Dante Cavallaro or Father in addition to that.”
“Fabi and Lily will be really sad if you don’t come to visit.”
“I know,” Aria said with a sigh, leaning against the backrest. “That’s what I’ve been telling Luca. I even suggested I could fly over alone with Romero, so Luca could take care of business here.”
“Let me guess. He hated that idea.”
Aria laughed. “Yeah. He doesn’t trust the Outfit and won’t let me go there without him.”
“I kind of have to agree with him. I wish we could go together though.”
“Maybe next year. Father can hardly stay mad at you forever.”
“Father will still be mad at me when he’s roasting in hell.”
***
As expected, I wasn’t invited to my family’s Christmas party. Officially, Father couldn’t have denied me entrance as Matteo’s wife, but not only would that have been very awkward but Matteo also didn’t want to risk taking me back to Chicago so soon. That night after my body had won over my brain once again and succumbed to Matteo’s charm, I lay naked in his arms, his chest pressed up against my back. I wasn’t sure why I always fell asleep with his arms around me, and worse why I was sometimes longing for his closeness during the day too. So far I’d managed to resist that second notion at least.
“Will I ever see Fabi and Lily again?” I whispered into the silence.
Matteo’s arms around my waist tightened. “If they were part of the Cosa Nostra, Luca could do something, but your father only has to listen to Cavallaro.”
“I know,” I said almost angrily. I knew how things worked in our world. “But can’t we invite my family over for some kind of gathering? Father wouldn’t reject a direct invitation, right?”
Matteo propped himself up and stared down at my face. “Your father would definitely follow the invitation, but he wouldn’t have to take your sister and brother with him. Many men keep their families out of it for security reasons.”
I nodded.
Matteo watched me for a long time and it was starting to make me feel naked in a very different way. I shot him a glare. “What?”
“Luca is very convincing. Maybe he can ask your father to allow Liliana and Fabiano to come for a visit after Christmas. Your father could send his own guards with them if he doesn’t trust us.”
“Why would Luca do that? He and Aria are still welcome in Chicago.”
“If I ask Luca, he’ll do it.”
“And why should you ask him? Aren’t you in enough trouble already because of Bardoni and getting rid of my ankle monitor?”
Matteo twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. “I’d do it for you. You are my wife and I want to make you happy.” His smile was teasing and yet what he’d said had sounded sincere.
My heart thudded dangerously, and new panic rose up. What was happening? Fear of my own emotions got the better of me. “If you really care about me and want to see me happy, let me go. All I’ve ever wanted was freedom and a normal life.”
The moment the words left my mo
uth, I realized I wasn’t sure if they were still the truth.
Matteo’s expression shut off, something hard and cold settling in his eyes. He lay back down and extinguished the lights. I almost apologized and reached out for him.
His lips brushed my ear. “I guess then that means I don’t care enough. Because letting you go? That’s the one thing I’ll never do.”
***
After that conversation, our interactions in the next few days were reduced to sex once again.
To my surprise, I missed our banter. I even missed Matteo’s stupid cockiness and that annoying shark-grin, but most of all I missed falling asleep with his fingers tracing the soft skin of my inner forearm.
Christmas time was definitely turning into my own personal nightmare. Matteo and I were invited to three more parties, all of them either hosted by high-ranking mobsters, or business men with close connections to the mob. All of them too important to offend by not attending. I really hoped Matteo wouldn’t kill any more hosts though. The Bardoni debacle so far had been without consequences but I still wasn’t entirely sure it would stay that way. At some point people would undoubtedly get suspicious.
Now that I wasn’t wearing an ankle monitor anymore, Sandro was my shadow, and when Aria and I went anywhere together, Romero was always there as well. It was ridiculous. Even without a technical device every aspect of my life was out of my control. Married bliss, my ass.
I fixed a wayward strand, which had fallen out of my updo and brushed my hands over my new dress. With all the social events looming in my future, Aria and I had done another big shopping trip. I was starting to feel like one of those trophy mob wives I’d despised all my life. Shopping, social events and warming their husband’s bed was their whole world, and also mine. I glared at my reflection. I even looked all the way like a trophy wife with my hair in that elegant updo and the gorgeous dark green Cocktail dress that hugged my curves. Even my huge wedding ring and the diamond necklace screamed trophy wife. It took all my self-control not to rip the dress off my body and cut my hair off. How could I have become what I’d hated for so long? And how could I be okay with it?
“Aria and Luca are here,” Matteo shouted. “We need to get going.” This was more than he’d said to me outside of the bedroom since that night. With a sigh, I turned away from the mirror and headed toward the living room where Aria, Luca and Matteo were waiting. Matteo looked marvelous in a slim-fit black suit, white shirt and black tie. It was so cliché mobster, but he pulled it off with ease. That man always looked good. His eyes did a quick scan of my outfit and my body responded with a familiar shiver. I’d read about looks that were like sex, but I’d always considered them urban legend. But Matteo had that look down to a T.
I kept my face unaffected as I walked toward them. Aria was an apparition in her dark red dress and with her golden curls. In the past I’d often felt like I could never compete with her but I’d come to realize that I didn’t have to. Luca towered over my sister in a similar suit like Matteo, but it did nothing for me. I stopped beside Matteo and his hand immediately went to my hip. Did he even notice how possessive those small gestures were? In the past, my first reaction to them would have been annoyance followed by a rebuff, but now it seemed almost natural. I wasn’t sure why this was the case, why I molded so easily into the life that had been cut out for me even before my birth. Some people would probably seek an explanation in fate or faith. I’d never considered either option to be valid. I didn’t like the idea that some bigger outer thing controlled who I was and how my life would develop.
“Hey, where are you?” Matteo asked, squeezing my hip lightly. I blinked, focusing on him. I hadn’t even realized we’d stepped into the elevator.
I shook my head. “Thinking off all the ways this evening could end badly,” I lied.
“As long as Matteo keeps his knife in his holster and you keep your mouth in check, things should go smoothly,” Luca muttered, sending both Matteo and me a glare. “Tonight is important. Several of the attending business men are under pressure from the Russians. I want to show strength and make a good impression. It would be even better if you could manage not to offend the wives.”
“Why me? What about Aria?”
“Aria knows how to behave herself. She’s the perfect lady whereas you are anything but.”
Aria touched Luca’s chest. “Be nice to my sister.”
“I’m not rude to everyone. Only people I don’t like,” I said pointedly.
“Which will be everyone at the party,” Matteo interjected. “They are insufferable, believe me.” We exchanged a grin, then as if remembering our ‘kind of fight’ from a few nights ago, looked away from each other. I could see Luca give Aria one of those secret looks they always shared.
“Just behave yourself,” Luca said. “Both of you. It’s like God’s sent you two to me to test my patience.”
Aria giggled and hit Luca’s shoulder lightly, but her eyes were sparkling with adoration. Would I ever look at someone like that? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. It seemed like she was baring her soul for everyone to see and she didn’t even mind.
Together we stepped out of the elevator and into the freezing cold parking garage. I shivered. I hadn’t taken a coat with me because I only had to walk from the elevator to the car and then from the car to wherever the party was taking place, but now I regretted it. It was mid-December after all. One month since Matteo had caught me. Sometimes it was hard to believe so much time had passed already.
Matteo let go of me, removed his jacket and put it over my shoulders. His warmth and scent enveloped me, and I caught myself drawing in a deep breath.
“Thanks,” I said half-embarrassed.
Luca had done the same for Aria despite the short way to the car. Aria and I settled in the back of Matteo’s Porsche Cayenne while Luca and Matteo sat in the front. It seemed the men weren’t worried anymore that I’d try to jump out of the driving car to escape. Maybe they, too, had noticed how easily I’d settled in.
Aria leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I know you don’t want to see it but you and Matteo are like you were made for each other.”
I shot her a look, ignoring the way my pulse sped up with an emotion I didn’t even want to think about. “Don’t even start.”
Aria shrugged. “It’s the truth. And he’s really trying. They aren’t perfect but they are trying to be good to us. You don’t look unhappy.”
I wasn’t exactly unhappy, but I tried to attribute it to Aria’s constant presence in my new life. It was the convenient explanation. I didn’t say anything, couldn’t come up with a witty reply that wouldn’t sound utterly fake.
We sat in silence after that and yet I felt like my silence was more of an answer than I liked. I was actually relieved when we finally pulled up in front of a luxury apartment building not unlike the one Matteo and I lived in. A doorman rushed toward our car and opened my door. Good thing he didn’t see both Luca and Matteo reach for their weapons, always ready for an attack.
I thanked the guy who looked like he was barely my age, and got out. Aria followed quickly. We handed the jackets back to our husbands before walking into the brightly lit lobby. Another doorman waited next to the elevator and clicked the correct button for us.
As we rode up toward the top floor, Matteo leaned close and murmured, “Don’t forget to behave yourself.” He winked at me when he pulled back and I knew we’d be in trouble. Matteo’s expression promised that he had absolutely no intention to be good tonight.
The party took place in a huge penthouse overlooking the city. It was not quite as big as Luca’s but definitely showy. The walls were covered with drawings by Picasso, Warhol and Miró, all of them originals, and I had a feeling the furniture was as pretentious, but everything had been removed to fit two long tables for eighty guests into the room as well as a dozen bar tables where guests could mingle before dinner.
The noise level was overwhelming despite the size of the penthouse and there wasn
’t anything Christmas-y about the decoration except for an abstract glass nativity scene on the mantle and an even more abstract glass Christmas tree in one corner. Aria and I looked at each other and almost burst into laughter.
My mood dropped the moment the host and hostess, a middle-aged couple that looked even more fake than their tree approached us. I braced myself for the disgusted once-over, but the woman smiled at Aria and me the same way.
The hostess who introduced herself as Miriam practically beamed at me, though it looked almost scary because her face was frozen from too many Botox-treatments. “You must be the beautiful new bride,” she said, and kissed me on both cheeks.
“Yes, thank you,” I said, startled.
I darted a confused look at Matteo. He must have read it right because he leaned toward me while host and hostess spoke to Luca and Aria. “They aren’t part of our culture. They don’t give a crap about our rules and morals,” Matteo whispered.
The hostess turned back to us. “Dinner starts in thirty minutes. But please help yourself to our delicious Hors d’oeuvres and Champagne.” She pronounced Champagne in an odd French accent, which almost made me laugh again, but I pulled myself together and smiled politely instead. The woman had been kind to me, so I had to act accordingly, even if Luca thought I was incapable of pleasantness.
I glanced around, only spotting one familiar couple, that I assumed must be part of the mob or I wouldn’t have recognized them. Apart from that, we were blissfully surrounded by strangers, who didn’t call me slut under their breaths, or looked down their noses at me. This was a straight-up social event that normal people, well normal rich people attended. I relaxed. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.
“Come on. Let’s fill up on some Champagne. We’ll need the buzz to carry us through the boredom,” Matteo said. Luca shot him a scowl, but Matteo merely grinned and led me toward an unoccupied bar table. I grabbed a glass and took a deep gulp. That was the one good thing about living in our world; nobody gave a damn if I was of legal age to drink. The bubbles prickled delightfully on my tongue. It had been a long time since I’d had good Champagne. The last time was at Aria’s wedding.