The last couple of months had gone by too fast no matter how much I wanted time to slow, to give me more time to prepare. Only two days until my engagement party. Mother was busy ordering the servants around, making sure the house was spotless and nothing went wrong. It wasn’t even a big celebration. Only our family, Luca’s family and the families of the respective heads of New York and Chicago were invited. Umberto said it was for safety reasons. The truce was still too fresh to risk a gathering of hundreds of guests.
I wished they’d cancel it altogether. For all I cared, I didn’t have to meet Luca until the day of our wedding. Fabiano jumped up and down on my bed, a pout on his face. He was only five and had entirely too much energy. “I want to play!”
“Mother doesn’t want you to race through the house. Everything needs to be perfect for the guests.”
“But they aren’t even here!” Thank God. Luca and the rest of the New York guests would arrive tomorrow. Only one more night until I’d be meeting my future husband, a man who killed with his bare hands. I closed my eyes.
“Are you crying again?” Fabiano hopped off the bed and walked up to me, slipping his hand into mine. His dark blonde hair was a mess. I tried to smooth it down but Fabiano jerked his head away.
“What do you mean?” I’d tried to hide my tears from him. Mostly I cried at night when I was protected by darkness.
“Lily says you cry all the time because Luca has bought you.”
I froze. I’d have to tell Liliana to stop saying such things. It would only get me in trouble. “He didn’t buy me.” Liar. Liar.
“Same difference,” Gianna said from the doorway, startling me.
“Shhh. What if Father hears us?”
Gianna shrugged. “He knows that I hate how he sold you like a cow.”
“Gianna,” I warned, nodding toward Fabiano. He peered up at me. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered.
“I’m not leaving for a long time, Fabi.” He seemed satisfied with my answer and the worry disappeared from his face and was replaced by his up-to-no good expression. “Catch me!” he screamed and stormed off, pushing Gianna aside as he darted past her.
Gianna tore after him. “I’ll kick your ass, you little monster!”
I rushed into the corridor. Liliana poked her head out of her door and then she too ran after my brother and sister. Mother would have my head if they smashed another family heirloom. I flew down the stairs. Fabiano was still in the lead. He was fast, but Liliana had almost caught him while Gianna and I were too slow in the high heels my mother forced us to wear for practice. Fabiano dashed into the corridor leading into the west wing of the house and the rest of us followed. I wanted to shout at him to stop. Father’s office was in this part of the house. We’d be in so much trouble if he caught us playing around. Fabiano was supposed to act like a man. What five-year-old acted like a man?
We passed Father’s door and relief washed over me, but then three men rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. I parted my lips to shout a warning, but it was too late. Fabiano skidded to a halt but Liliana ran into the man in the middle with full force. Most people would have lost their balance. Most people weren’t six foot five and built like a bull.
I jerked to a halt as time seemed to grind to a stop around me. Gianna gasped beside me, but my gaze was frozen on my future husband. He was looking down at the blond head of my little sister, steadying her with his strong hands. Hands he’d used to crush a man’s throat.
“Liliana,” I said, my voice shrill with fear. I never called my sister by her full name unless she was in trouble or something was seriously wrong. I wished I was better at hiding my terror. Now everyone was staring at me, including Luca. His cold gray eyes scanned me from head to toe, lingering on my hair.
God, he was tall. The men beside him were both over six feet but he dwarfed them. His hands were still on Lily’s shoulders. “Liliana, come here,” I said firmly, holding out a hand. I wanted her far away from Luca. She stumbled backward, then flew into my arms, burying her face against my shoulder. Luca raised one black eyebrow.
“That’s Luca Vitiello!” Gianna said helpfully, not even bothering to hide her disgust. Fabiano made a sound like an enraged wildcat and stormed toward Luca, and started pummeling his legs and stomach with his small fists. “Leave Aria alone! You don’t get her!”
My heart stopped right then. The man to Luca’s side took a step forward. The outline of a gun was visible under his vest. He had to be Luca’s bodyguard, though I really couldn’t see why he needed one.
“No, Cesare,” Luca said simply and the man stilled. Luca caught my brother’s hands in one of his, stopping the assault. I doubted he’d even felt the blows. I pushed Lily toward Gianna who wrapped a protective arm around her, then I approached Luca. I was scared out of my mind, but I needed to get Fabiano away from him. Maybe New York and Chicago were trying to lay their feud to rest, but alliances could break in a blink. It wouldn’t be the first time. Luca and his men were still the enemy.
“What a warm welcome we get. That’s the infamous hospitality of the Outfit,” said the other man with Luca; he had the same black hair but his eyes were darker. He was a couple of inches smaller than Luca and not as broad, but it was unmistakable that they were brothers.
“Matteo,” Luca said in a low voice that made me shiver. Fabiano was still snarling and struggling like a wild animal, but Luca held him at arm-length.
“Fabiano,” I said firmly, gripping his upper arm. “It’s enough. That’s not how we treat guests.”
Fabiano froze, then gazed up at me over his shoulder. “He’s not a guest. He wants to steal you away, Aria.”
Matteo chuckled. “This is too good. I’m glad Father convinced me to come.”
“Ordered you,” Luca corrected, but he didn’t take his eyes off of me. I couldn’t return his gaze. My cheeks blazed with heat at his scrutiny. My father and his bodyguards made sure that Gianna, Lily and I weren’t around men very often, and the ones he let near us were either family or ancient. Luca was neither family, nor old. He was only five years older than me, but he looked like a man and made me feel like a small girl in comparison.
Luca let go of Fabiano and I pulled him toward me, his back against my legs. I folded my hands over his small heaving chest. He didn’t stop glaring at Luca. I wished I had his courage, but he was a boy, an heir to my father’s title. He wouldn’t be forced to obey anyone, except for the Boss. He could afford courage.
“I’m sorry,” I said, even if the words tasted foul. “My brother didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
“I did!” Fabiano shouted. I covered his mouth with my palm and he squirmed in my hold but I didn’t let him go.
“Don’t apologize,” Gianna said sharply, ignoring the warning look I shot her. “It’s not our fault that he and his bodyguards take up so much room in the corridor. At least, Fabiano speaks the truth. Everyone else thinks they need to blow sugar up his ass because he’s going to be Capo—”
“Gianna!” My voice was like a whip. She snapped her lips shut, staring at me with wide eyes. “Take Lily and Fabiano to their rooms. Now.”
“But—” She glanced behind me. I was glad I couldn’t see Luca’s expression.
“Now!”
She grabbed Fabiano’s hand and dragged him and Lily away. I didn’t think my first encounter with my future husband could possibly have gone any worse. Bracing myself, I faced him and his men. I expected to be greeted by fury, but I found a smirk on Luca’s face instead. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and now that I was alone with the three men, nerves twisted my stomach. Mother would freak out if she found out I wasn’t dressed up for my first meeting with Luca. I was wearing one of my favorite maxi dresses with sleeves that reached my elbows, and I was silently glad for the protection all the fabric offered me. I folded my arms in front of my body, unsure of what to do. “I apologize for my sister and brother. They are—” I struggled for a word other than rude.
“Protective of you,” Luca said simply. His voice was even, deep, emotionless. “This is my brother Matteo.”
Matteo’s lips were pulled into a wide grin. I was glad he didn’t try to take my hand. I didn’t think I could have kept my composure if either of them had moved any closer. “And this is my right hand, Cesare.” Cesare gave me the briefest nod before he returned to his task of scanning the corridor. What was he waiting for? We didn’t have assassins stashed in secret trap doors.
I focused on Luca’s chin and hoped it appeared as if I was actually looking at his eyes. I took a step back. “I should go to my siblings.”
Luca had a knowing expression on his face, but I didn’t care if he saw how uncomfortable, how scared he made me. Not waiting for him to excuse me – he wasn’t my husband nor my fiancé yet – I turned and quickly walked off, proud that I hadn’t given in to the urge to run.
***
Mother tugged at the dress Father had chosen for the occasion. For the meat show, as Gianna called it. No matter how much Mother tugged though, the dress didn’t get any longer. I stared at myself in the mirror uncertainly. I’d never worn anything that revealing. The black dress was clinging to my butt and waist, and ended at my upper thighs; the top was a glittery golden bustier with black tulle straps. “I can’t wear that, Mother.”
Mother met my gaze in the mirror. Her hair was pinned up; it was a few shades darker than mine. She was wearing a floor-length elegant dress. I wished I was allowed something that modest. “You look like a woman,” she whispered.
I cringed. “I look like a hooker.”
“Hookers can’t afford a dress like that.”
Father’s mistress had clothes that cost more than some people spent on a car. Mother put her hands on my waist. “You have a wasp waist, and the dress makes your legs look very long. I’m sure Luca will appreciate it.”
I stared down at my cleavage. I had small breasts, even the push-up effect of the bustier couldn’t change that. I was a fifteen-year-old dressed up to look like a woman.
“Here.” Mother handed me five-inch black heels. Maybe I’d reach Luca’s chin when I wore them. I slipped into them. Mother forced her fake smile onto her face and smoothed down my long hair. “Hold your head high. Fiore Cavallaro called you the most beautiful woman of Chicago. Show Luca and his entourage that you are more beautiful than any women in New York too. After all, Luca’s knows almost all of them.” The way she said it I was sure she’d read the articles about Luca’s conquests as well, or maybe Father had told her something.
“Mother,” I said hesitantly, but she stepped back. “Now go. I’ll come after you, but this is your day. You should enter the room alone. The men will be waiting. Your father will present you to Luca and then we’ll all come together in the dining room for dinner.” She’d told me this dozens of times already.
For a moment, I wanted to take her hand and beg her to accompany me; instead I turned and walked out of my room. I was glad that my mother had forced me to wear heels in the last few weeks. When I arrived in front of the door to the fireplace lounge on the first floor in the west wing, my heart was beating in my throat. I wished Gianna was at my side, but Mother was probably warning her to behave right now. I had to go through this alone. Nobody was supposed to steal the show from the bride-to-be.
I stared at the dark wood of the door and considered running away. Male laughter rang out behind it, my father and the Boss. A room filled with the most powerful and dangerous men in the country and I was supposed to go in. A lamb alone with wolves. I shook my head. I needed to stop thinking like that. I’d made them wait too long already.
I gripped the handle and pressed down. I slipped in, not yet looking at anyone as I closed the door. Gathering my courage, I faced the room. Conversation died. Was I supposed to say something? I shivered and hoped they couldn’t see it. My father looked like the cat that got the cream. My eyes sought Luca and his piercing stare rendered me motionless. I held my breath. He put down a glass with a dark liquid with an audible clank. If nobody said something soon, I’d flee the room. I quickly scanned the faces of the gathered men. From New York there were Matteo, Luca and Salvatore Vitiello, and two bodyguards: Cesare and a young man I didn’t know. From the Chicago Outfit there were my Father, Fiore Cavallaro, and his son, the future head Dante Cavallaro, as well as Umberto and my cousin Raffaele whom I hated with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. And off to the side stood poor Fabiano who had to wear a black suit like everyone else. I could see that he wanted to run toward me to seek solace, but he knew what Father would say to that.
Father finally moved toward me, put a hand on my back and led me toward the gathered men like a lamb toward slaughter. The only man who looked positively bored out of his mind was Dante Cavallaro; he had only eyes for his Scotch. Our family had attended the funeral of his wife two months ago. A widower in his thirties. I would have felt pity for him if he didn’t scare me senseless, almost as much as Luca scared me.
Of course Father steered me straight toward my future husband with a challenging expression as if he expected Luca to fall on his knees from awe. Going from his expression, Luca might as well have been staring at a rock. His gray eyes were hard and cold as they focused on my father.
“This is my daughter, Aria.”
Apparently, Luca hadn’t mentioned our embarrassing encounter. Fiore Cavallaro spoke up. “I didn’t promise too much, did I?”
I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole. I had never been submitted to so much…attention. The way Raffaele looked at me made my skin crawl. He’d been initiated only recently and had turned eighteen two weeks ago. Since then he’d been even more obnoxious than before.
“You didn’t,” Luca said simply.
Father looked obviously put off. Without anyone noticing Fabiano had snuck up behind me and slipped his hand into mine. Well, Luca had noticed and was staring at my brother, which brought his gaze entirely too close to my naked thighs. I shifted nervously and Luca looked away.
“Maybe the future bride and husband want to be alone for a few minutes?” Salvatore Vitiello suggested. My eyes jerked in his direction and I didn’t manage to hide my shock fast enough. Luca had noticed but he didn’t seem to care.
My father smiled and turned to leave. I couldn’t believe it.
“Should I stay?” Umberto asked. I gave him a quick smile, which disappeared when my father shook his head. “Give them a few minutes alone,” he said. Salvatore Vitiello actually winked at Luca. They all filed out until only Luca, Fabiano and I were left.
“Fabiano,” came my father’s sharp voice. “Get out of there now.”
Fabiano reluctantly let go of my hand and left, but not before sending Luca the deadliest look a five-year old could manage. Luca’s lips quirked. Then the door closed and we were alone. What had Luca’s father’s wink meant?
I peeked up at Luca. I had been right: with my high heels, the top of my head graced his chin. He looked out of the window. He didn’t spare me a single glance. Dressing me up like a hooker didn’t make Luca any more interested in me. Why would he be? I’d seen the women he dated in New York. They would have filled out the bustier better.
“Did you choose the dress?”
I jumped, startled that he’d spoken. His voice was deep and calm. Was he ever anything but? “No,” I admitted. “My father did.”
Luca’s jaw twitched. I couldn’t read him and it was making me increasingly nervous. He reached into the inside of his jacket and for a ridiculous second I actually thought he was pulling a gun on me. Instead he held a black box in his hand. He turned toward me and I stared intently at his black shirt. Black shirt, black tie, black jacket. Black like his soul.
This was a moment millions of women dreamed off, but I felt cold when Luca opened the box. Inside sat a white gold ring with a big diamond in the center sandwiched between two marginally smaller diamonds. I didn’t move.
Luca held out his hand when the awkwardness between us reached its peak. I flushed and extended my hand. I flinched when his skin brushed mine. He slipped the engagement ring on my finger, then released me.
“Thank you,” I felt obligated to say the words and even look up into his face, which was impassive, though the same couldn’t be said for his eyes. They looked angry. Had I done something wrong? He held out his arm and I linked mine through it, letting him lead me out of the lounge and toward the dining room. We didn’t speak. Maybe Luca was disappointed enough with me that he’d cancel the arrangement? But he wouldn’t have put the ring on my finger if that were the case.
When we stepped into the dining room, the women of my family had joined the men. The Vitiellos hadn’t brought female company. Maybe because they didn’t trust my Father and the Cavallaros enough to risk bringing women into our house.
I couldn’t blame them. I wouldn’t trust my father or the Boss either. Luca dropped his arm and I quickly joined my mother and sisters, who pretended to admire my ring. Gianna gave me a look. I didn’t know what my mother had threatened her with to keep her silent. I could tell that Gianna had a scathing comment on the tip of her tongue. I shook my head at her and she rolled her eyes. Dinner was a blur. The men discussed business while we women remained quiet. My eyes kept drifting toward the ring on my finger. It felt too heavy, too tight, entirely too much. Luca had marked me as his possession.
***
After dinner the men moved on to the lounge to drink and smoke and discuss whatever else needed to be discussed. I returned to my room, but couldn’t fall asleep. Eventually, I put a bathrobe over my pajamas, slipped out of my room and crept downstairs. In a fit of craziness, I took the passage that led to the secret door behind the wall in the lounge. My Grandfather thought it was necessary to have secret escapes in the office and the fireplace lounge because that’s where the men of the family usually held their meetings. I wondered what he thought would happen to the women after the men had all fled through the secret passage?
I found Gianna with her eyes pressed against the peephole of the disguised door. Of course, she was already there. She whirled around, eyes wide but relaxed when she spotted me.
“What’s going on in there?” I said in a bare whisper, worried the men in the lounge would overhear us.
Gianna moved to the side, so I could peer through the second peephole. “Almost everyone’s already gone. Father and Cavallaro have details to discuss with Salvatore Vitiello. It’s only Luca and his entourage now.”
I squinted through the hole, which gave me a perfect view of the chairs crowded around the fireplace. Luca leaned against the marble ledge of the fireplace, legs casually crossed, a glass of Scotch in his hand. His brother Matteo lounged in an armchair beside him, legs wide apart and that wolfish grin on his face. Cesare and the second bodyguard they’d called Romero during dinner sat in the other armchairs. Romero looked to be the same age of Matteo, so around eighteen. Barely men by society’s standard, but not in our world.
“It could have been worse,” Matteo said, grinning. He might not have looked quite as deadly as Luca, but something in his eyes told me he was only able to hide it better. “She could have been ugly. But, holy fuck, your little fiancée is an apparition. That dress. That body. That hair and face.” Matteo whistled. It seemed as if he was provoking his brother on purpose.
“She’s a child,” Luca said dismissively. Indignation rose in me, but I knew I should be glad that he didn’t look at me like a man looked at a woman.
“She didn’t look like a child to me,” Matteo said, then clucked his tongue. He nudged the older man, Cesare. “What do you say? Is Luca blind?”
Cesare shrugged with a careful glance at Luca. “I didn’t look at her closely.”
“What about you, Romero? You got functioning eyes in your head?”
Romero looked up, then quickly looked back down to his drink.
Matteo threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck, Luca, did you tell your men you’d cut their dicks off if they looked at that girl? You aren’t even married to her.”
“She’s mine,” Luca said quietly, sending a chill down my back with his voice, not to mention his eyes. He looked at Matteo, who shook his head. “For the next three years, you’ll be in New York and she will be here. You can’t always keep an eye on her, or do you intend to threaten every man in the Outfit. You can’t cut off all of their dicks. Maybe Scuderi knows of a few Eunuchs who can keep watch over her.”
“I’ll do what I have to,” Luca said, swirling the drink in his glass. “Cesare, find the two idiots who are supposed to guard Aria.” The way my name rolled off his tongue made me shiver. I didn’t even know I had two guards now. Umberto had always protected me and my sisters.
Cesare left immediately and returned ten minutes later with Umberto and Raffaele, both looked butt-hurt that they’d been summoned like dogs by someone from New York. Father was a step behind them.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Father asked.
“I want to have a word with the men you chose to protect what’s mine.”
Gianna huffed beside me, but I pinched her. Nobody could know we were listening in on this conversation. Father would throw a fit if we revealed the position of his secret door.
“They are good soldiers, both of them. Raffaele is Aria’s cousin, and Umberto has worked for me for almost two decades.”
“I’d like to decide for myself if I trust them,” Luca said. I held my breath. That was as close to an insult as he could get without actually insulting my father openly. Father’s lips thinned, but he gave a curt nod. He remained in the room. Luca stepped up to Umberto. “I hear you are good with the knife.”
“The best,” Father interjected. A muscle in Luca’s jaw twitched.
“Not as good as your brother, as rumor has it,” Umberto said with a nod toward Matteo who flashed him a shark grin. “But better than any other man in our territory,” Umberto admitted eventually.
“Are you married?”
Umberto nodded. “For twenty-one years.”
“That’s a long time,” Matteo said. “Aria must look awfully delicious in comparison to your old wife.” I stifled a gasp.
Umberto’s hand twitched an inch toward the holster around his waist. Everyone saw it. Father watched like a hawk but didn’t interfere. Umberto cleared his throat. “I’ve known Aria since her birth. She is a child.”
“She won’t be a child for much longer,” Luca said.
“She will always be a child in my eyes. And I’m faithful to my wife.” Umberto glared at Matteo. “If you insult my wife again, I’ll ask your father for permission to challenge you in a knife fight to defend her honor and I’ll kill you.”
This would end badly.
Matteo inclined his head. “You could try.” He bared his white teeth. “But you would not succeed.”
Luca crossed his arms, then gave a nod. “I think you are a good choice, Umberto.” Umberto stepped back, but kept his gaze fixed on Matteo who ignored him.
Luca’s eyes settled on Raffaele and he dropped whatever civility had cloaked the monster within until that point. He moved so close to Raffaele that my cousin had to tilt his head back to return the stare. Raffaele tried to keep his expression arrogant and self-confident, but he looked like a Chihuahua pup trying to impress a Bengal tiger. Luca and he might as well have been two different species.
“He’s family. Are you honestly going to accuse him of having an interest in my daughter?”
“I saw how you looked at Aria,” Luca said, never taking his eyes off of Raffaele.
“Like a juicy peach you wanted to pluck,” Matteo threw in, enjoying this entirely too much.
Raffaele’s eyes darted toward my father, looking for help.
“Don’t deny it. I know want when I see it. And you want Aria,” Luca growled. Raffaele didn’t deny it. “If I find out you are looking at her like that again. If I find out you are in a room alone with her. If I find out you touch as much as her hand, I will kill you.”
Raffaele flushed red. “You aren’t a member of the Outfit. Nobody would tell you anything even if I raped her. I could break her in for you.” God, Raffaele shut your mouth. Couldn’t he see murder in Luca’s eyes? “Maybe I’ll even film it for you.”
Before I could even blink, Luca had thrown Raffaele to the ground and dug a knee into his spine, one of my cousin’s arms twisted back. Raffaele struggled and cursed, but Luca held him fast. One of his hands gripped Raffaele’s wrist while he reached under his vest with the other, pulling out a knife.
My legs turned weak. “Leave now,” I told Gianna in a whisper. She didn’t listen.
Look away, Aria.
But I couldn’t. Father would surely stop Luca. But Father’s expression was disgusted as he stared down at Raffaele. Luca’s eyes sought Father’s gaze – Raffaele wasn’t his soldier. This wasn’t even his territory. Honor demanded he got permission from the Consigliere – and when my father gave a nod, he brought the knife down and cut Raffaele’s pinky off. The screams rang in my ears when my vision turned black. I bit down on my fist to stifle a sound. Gianna didn’t. She let out a screech that could have woken the dead before she threw up. At least, she’d turned and aimed away from me. Her vomit spilled down the steps.
Behind the doors, silence reigned. They had heard us. I gripped Gianna’s upper arms when the secret door was ripped open, revealing Father’s furious face. Behind him stood Cesare and Romero, both with their weapons drawn. When they saw Gianna and me, they returned them to the holsters under their jackets.
Gianna didn’t cry. She seldom did, but her face was pale and she leaned heavily against me. If I didn’t have to hold her up, my own legs would have crumpled. But I had to be strong for her.
“Of course,” Father hissed, scowling at Gianna. “I should have known it was you causing trouble again.” He wrenched her away from me and into the lounge, raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face.
I took a step in his direction to protect her and Father lifted his arm again. I braced myself for the slap, but Luca caught my father’s wrist with his left hand. His right hand was still grasping the knife he’d used to cut off Raffaele’s finger. The knife and Luca’s hand were coated with blood. My eyes widened. Father was the master of the house, the master over us. Luca’s intervention was an insult against my father’s honor.
Umberto drew his knife and Father had his hand on his gun. Matteo, Romero and Cesare had drawn their own guns. Raffaele was huddled on the floor, bent over his hand, his whimpers the only sound in the room. Had there ever been a red engagement?
“I didn’t mean disrespect,” Luca said calmly, as if war between New York and Chicago wasn’t on the verge of breaking out. “But Aria is no longer your responsibility. You lost your right to punish her when you made her my fiancée. She’s mine to deal with now.”
Father glanced down at the ring on my finger, then inclined his head. Luca let go of his wrist, and the other men in the room relaxed slightly, but didn’t put their weapons back. “That’s true.” He stepped back and gestured at me. “Then would you like the honor of beating some sense into her?”
Luca’s hard gaze settled on me and I stopped breathing. “She didn’t disobey me.”
Father’s lips thinned. “You are right. But as I see it Aria will be living under my roof until the wedding and since honor forbids me to raise my hand against her, I’ll have to find another way to make her obey me.” He glowered at Gianna and hit her a second time. “For every of your wrongdoings, Aria, your sister will accept the punishment in your stead.”
I pressed my lips together, tears prickling in my eyes. I didn’t look at Luca or Father, not until I could find a way to hide my hatred from them.
“Umberto, take Gianna and Aria to their rooms and make sure they stay there.” Umberto sheathed his knife and gestured at us to follow him. I stepped past my father, dragging Gianna with me who had her head bowed. She stiffened as we stepped over the blood on the hardwood floor and the cut-off finger laying abandoned in it. My eyes darted to Raffaele who was clutching his wound to still the bleeding. His hands, his shirt and pants were covered with blood. Gianna retched as if she was going to throw up again.
“No,” I said firmly. “Look at me.”
She drew her eyes away from the blood and met my gaze. There were tears in her eyes and her lower lip had a cut that was dripping blood on her chin and her nightgown. My hand on hers tightened. I’m here for you. Our locked eyes seemed her only anchor as Umberto led us out of the room.
“Women,” my father said in a scoffing tone. “They can’t even bear the sight of a bit of blood.” I could practically feel Luca’s eyes boring into my back before the door closed. Gianna wiped her bleeding lip as we hurried after Umberto through the corridor and up the stairs. “I hate him,” she muttered. “I hate them all.”
“Shh.” I didn’t want her to talk like that in front of Umberto. He cared for us, but he was my father’s soldier through and through.
He stopped me when I wanted to follow Gianna into her room. I didn’t want her to be alone tonight. And I didn’t want to be alone either. “You heard what your father said.”
I glared at Umberto. “I need to help Gianna with her lip.”
Umberto shook his head. “It’s nothing. You two in a room together always bodes trouble. Do you think it’s wise to irk your father any more tonight?” Umberto closed Gianna’s door and gently pushed me in the direction of my room next to hers.
I stepped in, then turned to him. “A room full of grown men watches a man beat a helpless girl, that’s the famous courage of made men.”
“Your future husband stopped your father.”
“From hitting me, not Gianna.”
Umberto smiled like I was a stupid child. “Luca might rule over New York, but this is Chicago and your father is Consigliere.”
“You admire Luca,” I said incredulously. “You watched him cut off Raffaele’s finger and you admire him.”
“Your cousin is lucky The Vice didn’t cut off something else. Luca did what every man would have done.”
Maybe every man in our world.
Umberto patted my head like I was an adorable kitten. “Go to sleep.”
“Will you be guarding my door all night to make sure I don’t sneak out again?” I said challengingly.
“Better get used to it. Now that Luca’s put a ring on your finger, he’ll make sure you’re always guarded.”
I slammed the door shut. Guarded. Even from afar Luca would be controlling my life. I’d thought my life would go on as it used to until the wedding, but how could it when everyone knew what the ring on my finger meant? Raffaele’s pinky was a signal, a warning. Luca had made his claim on me and would enforce it cold-bloodedly.
I didn’t extinguish the lights that night, worried the darkness would bring back images of blood and cut-off limbs. They came anyway.
