ARIA
The mid-October sun kissed my skin as we disembarked from our private jet parked at the airport of Palermo. While the weather in New York had been gray and rainy, sunshine and warmth greeted us in Sicily.
I tilted my face up, relishing the touch of the sunrays on my skin. In preparation for the warmer climate, I’d put on my orange maxi dress with the ombre effect and the golden belt accentuating my waist, as well as my favorite flat golden sandals.
Luca’s hand tightened around mine and I slanted him a look, finding him scowling menacingly at our pilot who had been ogling me. I tugged at his hand and he focused on me, the scowl slipping away. “You are too beautiful.”
“Right,” I said with a laugh. “Let’s go. I want to see the yacht.” That, and I wanted to get away from the pilot before Luca decided to relieve him of a few limbs.
A driver waited for us beside a white Maserati SUV when we stepped out of the airport. “It’s a soldier of the Sicilian Famiglia. My great-uncle is Capo.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, really? Have you met him before?”
“Twice. He wasn’t at my father’s funeral because he was getting a pacemaker at the time. He’s in his seventies, so at some point his grandson Alessandro will take over.”
“Not his son?”
“Dead. Killed by the Camorra. They rule over Naples and Campania.”
“Oh. What about the Camorra in the States?”
“They keep to themselves in the West. Benedetto Falcone is as crazy as they come.”
We arrived at the car. Our driver, a tall guy around Luca’s age with dark hair and a dark beard, shook Luca’s hand and introduced himself as Alessandro in Italian. Luca seemed surprised, then said in fluent Italian: “I didn’t recognize you. It’s been a while. I didn’t expect my great-uncle to send his own grandson to greet me.”
Alessandro inclined his head. “A sign of respect, Luca, as men of honor.” He turned to me and his eyes traveled the length of me, obviously surprised before he met my gaze and spoke to me in accented English. “It’s an honor to meet the woman with the golden hair who brought truce between the Outfit and the Famiglia.”
I almost snorted.
Luca’s vigilant gaze rested on the other man. “She’s also my wife.”
It annoyed me that they spoke English with me, expecting me to be incapable of speaking Italian. Perhaps I was famous for my beauty, but I had finished school best in class and could have gone to any Ivy League college I wanted if I wasn’t who I was.
I smiled despite my annoyance, and said in flawless Italian, “I didn’t bring truce, Luca did because he is the best Capo New York has ever seen.”
Both men regarded me in astonishment and I raised my eyebrows at Luca. Appreciation flickered in his gaze before he returned his attention to Alessandro. “Does my great-uncle expect a visit today?”
Relief settled in my bones when Alessandro shook his head. “He knows you’ll want to enjoy your honeymoon with your wife. But before you leave for New York, he’d appreciate a meeting.”
“Of course,” Luca said. We got into the car after Alessandro had helped Luca load our luggage into the trunk. Luca and I sat in the back, which Alessandro didn’t seem to mind. I had a feeling Luca wanted to keep an eye on the other man, so I was glad when Alessandro dropped us off at the harbor and drove off. Luca rolled our two suitcases down the long landing toward a black-and-white yacht, and not a small one as I’d expected. Luca helped me climb on the boat, then hoisted our luggage on deck.
“Can you drive that thing?” I asked.
Luca grinned. “Yes. It’s like driving a car.”
I doubted that. He led me down to the lower decks, which were the epitome of luxurious chic with parts of the ceiling being made from glass to allow a view of the sky. The furniture, walls and carpets ranged in color from white to cream with a few darker wood elements. The seating area and the dining table were built for at least eight people. Luca kept moving until we arrived at the master bedroom with its own en-suite. The king-sized bed had a cream-colored canopy, and mirrors over the headboard as well as at the top of the canopy. I walked toward it and regarded the mirrors, half-embarrassed, half-curious.
Luca watched me with his arms crossed, and a hungry expression on his face. “Can’t wait to see your gorgeous body from every angle when I’m inside you.”
My cheeks burned. I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of being watched like that, and worse, watching myself.
Luca walked up to me and stroked my cheek. “Still innocent.”
I frowned. It wasn’t exactly that. I just wasn’t keen on having my body presented in every unfavorable angle possible. “I’m not sure I need to see so much of myself.”
Luca laughed. “Don’t tell me you are self-conscious, Aria. Fuck. I almost killed the pilot, the ground personnel and Alessandro because of their leering, and you feel self-conscious of that body.” He gestured at me.
“Just because others don’t see my imperfections doesn’t mean I don’t.”
He laughed again. “Perfection all over, Aria, trust me on that. I’ve seen so many women naked, and all of them would have given their left kidney to be half as gorgeous as you.”
“You have to say that as my husband,” I said, but I was starting to relax despite the mirrors. What did it matter if I wasn’t happy with the way I looked, as long as Luca thought of me as beautiful?
He touched my waist and leaned down to my ear. “I don’t have to do anything. It’s the truth. Now come, before I throw you on the bed and show you just how fucking sexy you are to me.”
I would have been perfectly fine with that, but I followed him to the upper deck and then up to the elevated pilot’s cockpit. “Wow,” I said.
Luca smirked. “Wait a sec. I have to release the moorings.” When he returned a few minutes later, he got behind the steering wheel and started the engine. I watched in fascination as he pressed buttons and checked all kinds of displays I had no clue about. Concentration filled Luca’s face as he steered the yacht out of the harbor and onto the open water.
“We can stop pretty much wherever we want, and have the place to ourselves.”
I liked the idea, liked it very much, especially the thought of having Luca to myself.
LUCA
I could tell that Aria was as excited about the prospect of having the ocean and secluded beaches to ourselves as I was. I wanted to fuck Aria on the beach, in the ocean, on the sundeck and beneath that big mirror. All of those would be firsts for Aria, and it made my cock harden only thinking about it.
Her forehead crinkled. “What about food?”
Perhaps our minds hadn’t wandered the same dark paths. I had to stifle a smile. “I asked my family to stock our fridge and the cupboards with food.”
“So we need to cook?”
Aria’s worry sent me over the edge. I roared with laughter. Aria had as much talent for cooking as I did. She definitely wasn’t like the Italian wives of the past.
“We’ll starve, or get food poisoning,” she said with a shake of her head.
“We’ll figure something out, and I’m only hungry for one thing anyway,” I said in a low voice, pulling Aria against my body.
“For now. We’ll see how you feel about that after a few days without decent food.” She pressed up to me, her soft breasts rubbing against my ribs, and I decided to find anchorage quickly. When we came to a small bay, I anchored the yacht before Aria and I went into the kitchen. We threw together a green salad and filled our plates with ciabatta, pecorino cheese, olives and Parma ham before we moved to the sundeck, sat down on the lounge furniture and watched the sun set over the ocean.
Aria sighed. “This is incredible.”
The most incredible sight of all was the golden halo the sinking sun created on Aria’s head. She put a piece of bread into her mouth then swallowed self-consciously. “You have a strange look on your face.”
I shook my head and ate a few slices of ham. Eventually, my hunger for food was replaced by another, so I set the plate down, leaned forward and slid my hand under the hem of her dress. Aria’s lips tipped upwards as she slipped another bite of cheese into her mouth. She was still shy about seducing me, but she rarely averted her eyes anymore. I pushed my hand higher, up the soft curve of her knee. Her eyes scanned the surrounding cliffs.
“It’s only us,” I assured her. I wouldn’t risk that anyone saw what was only my privilege to see. She put down her plate and scooted closer, allowing my hand to reach up even higher. I accepted the invitation and slid my hand between her thighs, my fingers stroking her soft skin. She sighed softly, eyes filling with need as she leaned back on her arms, head tilted back, her hair falling like golden silk down her shoulders, brushing the leather of the lounge. Too fucking gorgeous for words.
I trailed higher and brushed against her wet folds. My eyebrows shot up. “No panties?” I rasped, my cock jerking.
Even in the dimming light I could see Aria’s blush. “I got rid of them before dinner.”
I groaned. Fuck, she was getting better at this. I rubbed the pad of my thumb over her clit and she pressed up against me with a twitch of her hip. With my free hand, I shoved her dress up, revealing her lean legs and her pussy. I got down on one knee and cupped her ass with my palms before I pulled her to my waiting mouth.
Aria moaned. “Yes, please,” she mewled, and fuck, I almost came in my pants. She wasn’t outspoken yet, and for her to say anything was fucking amazing. I knew she loved it when I licked her, and I fucking loved it every bit as much. I’d rarely gone down on women in the past, had preferred to fuck them hard or have them suck my dick, but with Aria having her pussy in my mouth was paradise. I’d never forget the amazement on her face when I’d licked her for the first time.
I worshipped her with my lips and tongue, and waited until she was close to her release before I pushed a finger into her. That’s how she liked it best. One finger only to tip her over the edge as I sucked on her clit, and as usual I was rewarded with her cry of pleasure and her sweet juice. Fuck. I loved her taste.
When her breathing slowed, I pulled back and kissed her knee before I straightened. Aria peered up at me through lust-hooded eyes. “Get out of that dress, principessa. Let me see your perfect body.”
She stood, lifted the dress over her head and dropped it on the ground. She was left completely naked. What kind of imperfections did she see? There were none.
I circled her waist and pulled her closer to get a taste of her nipples before I released her and made quick work of my clothes. She curled her hand around my dick but I shook my head. “I want to fuck you, Aria. Kneel on the couch.”
She hesitated but then she did as I asked.
I positioned Aria so she was kneeling on all fours in front of me. That was a position we hadn’t tried yet. She’d been bent over a couch, but this was new and I loved the view of her ass I got.
I lined myself up when I noticed the tension of Aria’s spine and felt her pussy clamp up against my tip. Not sure what had caused her reaction, I stroked her back, but she didn’t relax. She was too tense for me to enter her without causing her pain. “Aria?” I gritted out. My balls were about to burst.
She didn’t react, but now her shoulders rounded in and her breathing changed. Was she crying? I circled her waist, hoisted her up and turned her around. Her eyes snapped up to me. She wasn’t crying, but her expression made it clear that she was upset about something. “Sorry,” she said quietly. “Can we try another position?”
“First tell me why you tensed? What’s the problem with you being on all fours?”
She cast down her eyes, which was a fucking bad sign.
“It reminded me of the day I saw you with Grace.”
Fuck me. I felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. I leaned down as I lifted her chin. She met my eyes, looking fucking vulnerable. “Aria, I told you she’s a thing of the past. There’s no other woman for me. Only you.”
“I know. I don’t know why I can’t forget it.”
I wasn’t sure what to do with her hurt, and so I kissed her. Drawing back, I whispered, “Let’s go inside. I’ll make love to you in our bed.” When she hesitated, I cupped her cheek and brought our faces close. “You are the only woman I’ve ever made love to, Aria.” If my soldiers could hear me now, I’d have to make another even bloodier statement to gain back their respect.
Yet, when Aria’s expression softened, I didn’t regret my words. She followed me down to the lower deck and into our bedroom. She was quiet and when I made her lie down on her back on the bed and brushed my fingers over her pussy, I could tell that she wasn’t as aroused as before. Her eyes were closed, either because of the mirror or because she was trying to hide her emotions from me. I lay down beside her and stroked her cheek. She opened her eyes and the hurt was gone, so she was shy about the mirror. I could deal with that.
I nodded toward the mirror above us and she followed my gaze. Her delicate body looked breakable in comparison to mine, her pale skin too perfect against my scars and hard muscles. Her eyes focused on the small scar on her shoulder. Trust Aria to be bothered by the one tiny flaw on her body—which wasn’t even a fucking flaw because it was proof of her love. I set out to distract her and rekindle her arousal. I cupped her breast with my hand, then wedged one nipple between my fore and middle finger and slid up and down. Aria lowered her gaze.
“No, principessa. I want you to watch my hands worship your body.”
She raised her eyes and didn’t take them off the mirror again. Her breathing hitched as my hand traveled lower. “Open your legs,” I ordered, and she did. I parted her folds with my thumb and middle finger, laying her clit bare. She arched her hips and I pressed my index finger down and began rubbing small circles. Her lips parted as she rocked her pelvis. Soon she was as ready as before. I drew back and climbed between her legs before I pulled her closer, parting her legs even wider and lifting her ass. Her eyes were still focused on the mirror, and I could have come just because of the look of need and fascination on her face.
“Yes, love, watch my cock claim your pussy.” She trembled with desire as I pressed my tip against her opening and eased into her tight channel. Her body took me in, yielding to the pressure, and the sight of my cock buried deep inside of her made my balls tighten. I held on to her hips as I thrust into her in a slow rhythm. I’d been slow and gentle with her since she’d been shot, and I hadn’t minded, but today I wanted more. Still, after Aria’s reaction on the sundeck, I didn’t want to push her.
ARIA
Having Luca make love to me—nothing had ever felt better, but I could see in the hunger in his eyes, the controlled twist of his mouth that he needed more, and I was so ready for it. While I loved his softer side, I enjoyed his darker, harder side during sex just as much. I dug my heels into his backside, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “More,” I breathed, and he complied immediately. He fell forward, catching his weight on his palms, eyes possessive and hungry as they bored into me, and then he slammed harder into me. My eyes found the mirror again, and he panted. “Yes, principessa. Watch us.” And I did. I couldn’t have looked away even if I’d tried. Luca was magnificent, and watching him claim me excited me like nothing ever had. The muscles in his back moved beautifully under his tanned skin, and his firm round backside tensed with every thrust. He was so strong and powerful. All man, all alpha, all mine.
He slammed harder into me, deeper, hitting the spot I hadn’t even known about before him, and I screamed out my release. Luca dropped to his forearms, thrusting harder, driving me deeper into the bed. His pants turned labored, and then he groaned. His ass tensed, his shoulder blades flexed as he came inside of me, and I almost came again seeing him like that in the mirrors. How could I have thought I would pay attention to my body when I could watch Luca? I ran my hands over his muscles, down to his strong backside, marveling that this man was mine, and not only his body but also his heart. The past didn’t matter anymore, least of all Grace. I wouldn’t give her the power to ruin another second of my honeymoon.
Luca stilled above me and buried his face in my hair but when he raised his eyes, I could read an unspoken question in them.
“I’m okay,” I said, then in a low voice, “I love the mirror.”
Luca chuckled, a dark sound from deep in his chest. “I knew you would.”
He slid off me and pulled me against him. This was a good start to our honeymoon.
The next day we set off early in the direction of a small fishing village that was overrun with tourists in the summer months, but quiet and picturesque the rest of the year. We went in search for a small café to have breakfast since our attempt at pancakes had proven a major fail. Starving, we settled at a small round table near the harbor. Luca dwarfed the wooden chair and I had to hold back laughter, but he was relaxed. More relaxed than he allowed himself to be at home. Of course, he had a gun strapped to his calf and a knife in the holster at his chest, which was why he wore a black shirt despite the warmth. It was less accepted to display weapons around here, so Luca had to adapt. I ordered a cappuccino and biscotti, even if the locals usually reserved those delicacies for the afternoon. After that Luca and I strolled along the promenade under the curious glances of locals and tourists alike. “Come on, let’s get back to the boat. I prefer our privacy.”
I had to agree. Luca and I simply attracted too much attention, which was mainly due to the fact that Luca looked like a professional football player with his size.
Luca found another beautiful secluded cove for us. My eyes wandered over the crystal water toward the untouched crescent beach. Luca held out a snorkel and a snorkeling mask. “How about a swim?”
I took both from him, surprised. “I’ve never snorkeled before.”
“Now you will,” he said. We were already in our bathing gear so we only had to put on the mask and the snorkel. I couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Luca dressed like that. “I didn’t think you were the snorkeling type. After all, you can’t take weapons with you into the water.”
He raised dark eyebrows and lifted up a calf holster with a curved knife before he strapped it to his leg. Of course, he would take a weapon with him.
He nudged me toward the platform at the end of the yacht. I sat down on the edge and slowly glided into the water. I’d never swum so far outside and I worried that it would unnerve me not to see ground beneath my feet, but when Luca joined me, a sense of safety came over me. Luca would protect me. He was probably the most dangerous predator in these waters. I stifled a grin at the thought. The moment I put my head underwater and saw what lay below, fish and, further down, fascinating rock formations, I forgot my worries. Luca and I snorkeled for almost an hour, Luca always close to me, protective as usual.
Afterwards Luca and I had dinner before Luca took us to the beach in an inflatable. He spread out a blanket on the sand, and I sank down on it as he took the champagne from the cooler bag and settled beside me. The salty ocean air lingered in my nose.
He filled two glasses and handed me one. We clinked glasses and kissed before I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. I’d grown used to the taste over the years and had learned to appreciate the tartness and the bubbles bursting on my tongue. Luca wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me against him, as we watched the sun set over the ocean in hues of pink and orange.
“I never imagined it would be like this,” I admitted in a whisper.
Luca turned to me. “What exactly?”
“Us, our marriage,” I said. “In the three years until our wedding I pictured how you’d treat me. I listened to Umberto’s stories about your fights, about how you crushed a man’s throat, how you killed your first man at eleven, and all I could think was that I wouldn’t survive if you were the man he and everyone described.”
I fell silent, my eyes trained on the waves. My fears were still fresh in my mind; they had still filled my nights three months ago, and now I sat beside Luca with champagne, feeling safer than I had all my life. Luca was watching me with rapt attention, but didn’t interrupt me as I continued, “Our father occasionally hit us, Gianna more than Lily and me, but I worried you’d do worse.” Luca’s hand on my waist tensed but still I pressed on. “I was sheltered, true, but women talk and what I overheard many of them say about how Made Men treat their wives terrified me—and those men weren’t even called the Vice. I know we haven’t been married long, but if you keep treating me the way you do now, I will be happier than I thought possible. I know I can count myself lucky. I know it every time other women offer me words of consolation and send me looks of compassion because I’m your wife.”
I finally met his gaze. The shadows played on his sharp features, but his eyes seemed to burn brightly with emotion. “Why aren’t you the monster they all fear when you are with me?”
He didn’t say anything, only drew in a deep breath. I waited, hoping he would answer my question. “Because I don’t want to be. I want that part of my life to be good, pure. The rest of my life will always be filled with violence and death. Cruelty runs in my veins, and I’m gladly the monster they fear whenever I’m not with you because it’s in my nature and I enjoy it, but not with you, never with you, Aria, I swear.”
I tilted my head. “Can you? Swear something like that?
He thought about it for a couple of heartbeats before he murmured, “Yes, unless you do something so unforgivable I would snap.”
“And then?” I prompted.
Luca made a low sound in his throat and brushed his lips over my temple. “It won’t ever come to that.”
I nodded, and took another sip of champagne.
“Did your father ever raise your hand against you after our engagement?” Luca whispered darkly.
I hesitated.
That was all the answer Luca needed, and he went rigid. “I warned him not to lay a hand on you.”
I touched his forearm. “That’s the past, Luca. Don’t let it ruin the present.” I could tell he was reluctant to let it go, and I decided to follow my own advice. I emptied my glass, set it down, then untangled myself from Luca’s hold and stood. I pulled my dress over my head and dropped it to the sand beside Luca, who watched me with eagerness. The only light left came from the spotlights of our yacht and the small solar lamp Luca had set up on the blanket. The breeze caught my hair and whipped it around as I smiled down at Luca. He rose to his feet and stripped out of his own clothes, and a shiver of arousal passed my back at the sight of his nudity. He stepped close and bowed down for a kiss. My hands roamed over his chest and ripped stomach as his own traveled down my back and cupped my ass. Soon my need to feel Luca inside of me drowned out all else as he worked me with strong, experienced fingers. His length dug insistently into my stomach. I stepped back, breathless, catching my breath before I said: “I want to try the position again.”
Luca nodded, but I could tell he was apprehensive as we settled on the blanket. I turned my back to him then got down on my knees and hands. My stomach twisted with nerves. For some reason, I worried this position more than any other would make Luca compare me to his previous lovers. I had seen how he had fucked Grace, how hard she’d let him take her, how unbridled Luca had been. My body still sometimes clamped up when I didn’t want it to, and new positions sometimes brought me discomfort.
Luca stroked my back, the gesture so reverent that I relaxed under his touch. He pressed up to me but didn’t enter. Instead he reached around and began stroking me. I moaned and eased back a bit so Luca’s tip slid in. He released a low breath before he worked his way deeper and when he filled me completely, I realized why he favored the position. He was deeper than ever before, and I had to breathe slowly through the new sensation. I felt too stretched. Luca gripped my hips and withdrew slowly before he moved back in at the same pace. He found a slow, gentle rhythm, and step by step my body grew accustomed to this angle. Luca didn’t speed up, and despite the twinge it caused, I moved my hips faster to meet his thrusts and show him he didn’t need to hold back. Yet his fingers on my waist tightened, restraining me. “No, love,” he growled. “You are still tense around me.”
“I don’t care,” I got out. “You can move faster.”
Luca leaned forward, sliding even deeper, and I sucked in my breath as he pressed his chest against my back. “No, I can’t. Not without hurting you.”
“I want you to find pleasure.”
“I don’t take pleasure in causing you pain, believe me,” he said in a gravelly voice. “We have all our lives to try every position. Don’t pressure yourself because you think you need to live up to certain expectations, because you exceed them all where I am concerned.”
He pulled out of me. My huff of protest died when Luca turned me around and lifted me on his lap. “Ride me. I want to look at your face.”
Searching his eyes, I found he meant it and I smiled as I lowered myself on his length. Our gazes locked as I rocked my hips, and pleasure soared through my core, and even as the tension built up to impossible levels, I rode Luca at a slow pace. His pants deepened as he clung to my waist, and then my orgasm rippled over me, and Luca tensed under me, head falling back as he came inside of me. I pressed a kiss to his throat, feeling his pounding pulse against my lips. I bit down lightly and Luca’s cock jerked in me as he growled. I smiled against his skin. Mine.
Our days on the yacht passed too quickly and when we left the yacht in Palermo’s harbor on our last day, I felt a sense of wistfulness.
Luca seemed to pick up on it. “We will be back next spring, I promise.”
I gave him a grateful smile.
We still had to go through with a visit to Luca’s great-uncle before we could return to New York, and I could see Luca’s demeanor shift as we got into Alessandro’s car—he’d picked us up at the harbor. Luca was back to being Capo, back to being vigilant. There was nothing soft or gentle about his expression now. Sometimes when I saw the looks he gave others I was reminded of my own fears of the past, and felt immense relief that they were just that: memories.
“Did you enjoy your honeymoon?” Alessandro asked—this time he didn’t bother with English. He was making small talk but I could tell he wasn’t into it.
“We did, thank you,” I said. Alessandro glanced at Luca in the rearview mirror as if he was surprised Luca hadn’t answered. I’d thought the question had been directed at both of us.
“Is there any reason why my great-uncle wants to talk to me except to rekindle family bonds?” Luca cut through to the topic on hand.
“He will share his thoughts with you,” Alessandro said in a clipped voice, and the look that passed between them sent a shiver down my back. The air seemed to thicken with their dominance. It was like being locked into a cage with two alpha wolves.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at a sprawling estate. It reminded me of the villas I’d seen in Tuscany with its cream façade and columns. Luca’s family had set up a long table in the courtyard before the front entrance. I was greeted by a wave of females with kisses and hugs, and astonished glances at my hair. They all had black hair like Luca’s. I stood out as usual. Luca immediately approached a tall, elderly man with a mustache. His great-uncle, and after a moment, I went over to them as well to greet the Capo of the Sicilian Famiglia. His dark eyes appraised me, as usual lingering on my hair, then he smiled. “You must be the pride of the Outfit.”
“I’m part of the Famiglia now, but thank you,” I said, flashing him my winning smile to soften my objection. He laughed, a raspy sound, then reached for a cigar. He held one out to Luca as well, who accepted it. I suppressed a shudder. I hated the smell of it. “Call me Adalberto, if I may call you Aria?” Adalberto looked at Luca for approval. Luca inclined his head.
Of course, my opinion wasn’t their concern.
“Why don’t you help my daughters and granddaughters prepare our meal for us?” Adalberto said.
Luca’s mouth twitched but I doubted anyone but me noticed. “Yes, Aria, why don’t you?”
The snappy comment didn’t leave my lips. I would make Luca pay later when we were alone.
I followed the women into the huge kitchen, and hoped they’d give me a task I could handle. Several pots were set up on the stove, and a whole lamb hung from a hook at the ceiling, already skinned, its dead eyes staring at me. Soon I found myself surrounded by chattering Italian women, who spoke so fast even I had trouble understanding every word they said, and set up with the task of preparing artichokes. I had never seen anyone prepare them, and had absolutely no clue what to do. When my cluelessness became obvious, Livia, Alessandro’s youngest sister who was only twelve, took the knife from me and showed me how to do it, and soon took over completely when my incompetence ruined two of the vegetables. Eventually I was given the task of stirring the soup in one of the pots. The women were kind despite my uselessness, but I could tell they were surprised that I couldn’t cook.
“I suppose men in America don’t expect their wives to cook?” one of Adalberto’s daughters, a round woman in her forties, said. I doubted most Italian men expected their wives to be perfect cooks, but these were mafia women, and the mafia was stuck in the past.
“Look at her hair, who cares if she can cook?” Livia said, her cheeks tingeing red when I smiled at her. Her comment was greeted by a wave of nods. The role of stupid blonde didn’t sit well with me, but I knew they weren’t trying to be mean. Everyone knew Luca hadn’t married me because of my wit. Neither he nor I had been given a choice in the matter.
When we served the prepared food to the men later, and Adalberto asked how I’d done, the women praised my abilities. Only Luca knew it was a blatant lie. I’d never be a decent cook, or anything close to it. I could tell by the tightness around his eyes that his conversation with Adalberto and Alessandro, who sat with them but avoided Luca’s eyes, must have worried him.
Later when we were finally alone in our airplane, I got the chance to ask him about it.
“Things are getting difficult for the Famiglia around here. My great-uncle asked if I would take Alessandro and his sisters in if things got out of hand.”
“And will you?”
“Of course. We are family. Honor dictates that I do, but Alessandro is destined to become Capo. He won’t bow down to my rule easily. I hope it doesn’t come to that.” His expression shifted from worry to something more relaxed. “So I hear you turned into a chef all of a sudden. Can I expect elaborate dinners in the future?”
“Of course,” I said sweetly. “You know how much Marianna enjoys going all out.”
Luca chuckled. Our housekeeper was a lifesaver when it came to food. She often prepared several meals in advance and put them in plastic boxes in our fridge so we wouldn’t starve. “You are a horrible housewife.”
I huffed. “I wasn’t raised to be a housewife. I was raised to be a trophy wife.” The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, but it was the truth and I needed to own up to it.
Luca shook his head, his eyes reverent as they trailed over me. “You were born to be a queen.”
