ARIA
We didn’t mention the Sylvester party incident again and a few days later, we had to leave for Chicago to attend Dante’s wedding.
My cousin Valentina looked absolutely stunning in her cream sequined wedding dress. The wedding wasn’t a big affair like ours had been, but still, close to two hundred people attended from the Outfit and the Famiglia. I smiled as I watched Dante and Valentina during their first dance. The ballroom of the hotel had been decorated with pink and blush roses, and the atmosphere was almost relaxed.
Luca squeezed my hip. “You didn’t look this happy during our wedding dance.”
I laughed. “I was terrified of you.” Val didn’t look like she was scared of Dante, but she was older than me by five years and had been married before. I supposed the consummation of her marriage didn’t hold the same terror for her.
When the dance floor was opened for the guests, Luca pulled me into his arms and led me along to the music. It still surprised me how well he could dance despite his height. I beamed up at him and his thumb stroked my naked back, the only public display of affection he would probably allow himself. He was still cautious but I didn’t mind, because he never held back with affection when we were alone and that was all that mattered.
As was expected, I had to dance with Dante and Luca with Val. I’d danced with Dante before and barely tensed when he took my hand, but when he pulled me against him and touched his palm to my bare back, I shivered from the too familiar gesture. He, too, tensed at the missing barrier between our skins. That was the problem with backless dresses. Heat rose into my cheeks as I met his eyes.
He gave me a very small smile. “I apologize,” he said formally.
“You can’t help my dress. Unless you move your hand to an inappropriately low level there is no way for you to reach fabric,” I said, hoping to lighten the atmosphere.
The barest hint of amusement showed on Dante’s face. “If I do that, your husband will spill blood.”
I followed his gaze. Luca kept throwing possessive looks my way as he danced with Val. While Val had looked perfectly fine with Dante, she appeared absolutely tense in Luca’s hold.
“Val looked happier dancing with you,” I said with a smile. Dante’s fingers against my back tightened and his expression darkened. Possessive and dominant, not so different from Luca, when it came down to it.
Matteo took over from Luca and Dante released me. I declined a dance from an Outfit soldier with a quick excuse, not wanting to test Luca’s patience and needing something to drink and a break from the possessive dominance surrounding me, but then Val laughed loudly at something Matteo had said. They were dancing closer than was appropriate. Luca narrowed his eyes at his brother, but he wasn’t the one I was worried about. Dante had a look in his eyes I knew from Luca.
Ignoring my thirst, I hurried to the dance floor and stopped beside Matteo and Val. “Why don’t you dance with me now, Matteo?”
Val’s eyes moved from me to her husband and realization filled her face. She stepped back from Matteo, who sent her a grin before he gripped my hand and jerked me against him.
I gasped from the impact against his muscled chest. My indignant look only made him grin wider, and he pressed his palm without hesitation against my back. He and Gianna would kill each other, that was a given.
For Matteo everything was a game—he thrived on provocation and chaos. With anyone but him I would have worried about Luca’s reaction but since this was Matteo, I relaxed in his tight embrace and let him twirl us around the dance floor.
Gianna stood off to the side, a scowl on her face when Matteo winked at her in passing. I dug my nails into his shoulder, bringing his attention back to me. “Don’t hurt her.” It came out sharper than intended, almost an order.
Matteo’s face became guarded. “Or what?”
I squeezed his hand and softened my tone. “Or you will never win her over. She might act all strong, but she has grown up as sheltered as me. Please treat her with kindness.” This was Luca’s brother and I was well aware that kindness wasn’t his forte, but if Luca could be kind to me then I had to hope Matteo could do the same with Gianna.
“I have no intention of hurting Gianna unless she’s into that kind of kinky shit.”
I rolled my eyes at him but when he looked at Gianna again, I could tell that his gaze held a flicker of warmth. Hers didn’t. She looked like she would rather chop her hands off than marry him. It worried me.
LUCA
I rolled over and reached for Aria but touched an empty bedsheet. My eyes flew open and I sat up, looking toward the clock on the nightstand. It was only six thirty in the morning on a Sunday and we’d returned late from Chicago. Where was she? Why wasn’t she still asleep?
That I hadn’t even noticed her getting out of bed showed how deep my sleep was beside her. Fuck.
I swung my legs out of bed, staggered to my feet and reached for my Beretta and stuffed it into my sweatpants. When I stepped onto the first floor landing, the sound of Aria’s humming reached my ears. I went down the stairs and found Aria in our open kitchen, barefoot and dressed in her satin nightgown. The counters and the floor were covered with white powder and so was Aria, her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
It smelled distinctly burned.
“What’s going on?”
Aria cried out and whirled around with a hand over her heart, her eyes wide. The tip of her nose and cheekbones were covered in white too, and my lips turned up at the sight.
A smile broke on her face. “I baked a cake for you.” She moved toward me. “Happy birthday, my love.”
Fuck, it was my birthday. I’d forgotten. I didn’t really celebrate that day. Aria stood on her tiptoes and I bent down, molding our lips together. I tasted flour on her lips—so that was the white powder. I pulled back, letting my eyes assess the mess. “I don’t want to sound cruel, but past experiences proved that you being in the kitchen isn’t a good idea.”
She pursed her lips. “I practiced with Marianna when you weren’t around.”
“You practiced?”
“I wanted your birthday cake to be perfect,” she said softly. I stared then raised my fingertips and brushed the flour off her cheeks. The spot on her nose would have to stay. She looked too fucking gorgeous for words. She stepped back, took mittens and opened the oven. The cake that she pulled out didn’t look half bad, even though it was on the dark side.
“It’s a chocolate cake with cream-cheese filling,” she said as she set it down on the counter. She grabbed a knife and cut off two pieces, put them on a plate before she set them down in front of me. She pressed up beside me. “I hope you like it.”
I grabbed the fork and speared a piece of the cake then brought it to my mouth, prepared for the worst, but the cake was actually delicious, warm and chocolaty. I didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but I enjoyed this because Aria had made it for me.
“And?” she asked, her eyes wide and worried.
“Delicious.”
Her answering smile actually made my fucking heart skip a beat.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Three hours?”
I raised my eyebrows. “I didn’t know cake takes that long.”
She blushed. “Well, it doesn’t but I got up early in case something didn’t go to plan, and I burnt the first two cakes—they’re in the trash.”
I chuckled then took another bite. My eyes trailed down her delicate throat to the soft swell of her breasts.
Aria touched my chest then slowly ran her hands down to my stomach, and I set the fork back down on my plate. My skin tightened under her touch, my cock springing to life. Aria’s eyes met mine as she reached for the Beretta in my waistband and pulled it out. With anybody else, my body would have gone into high alert, but with her I didn’t even feel a hint of unease. She regarded my gun for a moment before she put it down on the counter. I couldn’t look away from her face. She slid her hands into my waistband and slowly dragged my sweatpants down over my hips. I hissed when she grazed my cock. She cast her eyes up, and fuck, that look in her eyes, I could feel it right in my dick.
And then she got down on her knees, and I almost came right then. She held my gaze despite the blush spreading on her cheeks as she leaned forward, parting those perfect pink lips and taking my tip into her hot mouth. I had to stop myself from thrusting forward, but I loosened her bun and tangled my hands in her hair as she worked my cock deeper into her mouth. Fuck, my balls swelled seeing it.
She smiled around my cock and I groaned, my fingers tightening against her skull. Slowly she moved back and her fingers curled around me, and then she fucking licked from the base all the way to the top before she swirled that pink tongue around my tip. I jerked, moaning. “Fuck, Aria, you’re killing me.”
She hummed, looking fucking proud. That woman. Only mine.
I had to pull the reins a few times like a randy teenager as her mouth worked my cock, but when Aria cupped my balls while her other hand worked my shaft and my tip hit the back of her throat, I exploded. I gripped the counter as pleasure shot through me and I erupted in her mouth. She had trouble swallowing around me, so I pulled back a bit, my dick twitching. I watched through lidded eyes as she drew back, releasing me, and wiped her mouth. This was the moment she was still the most self-conscious about. I bent down and grabbed her under the armpits and hoisted her up onto the counter before I claimed her mouth for a kiss, plunging my tongue inside, tasting myself on her, and feeling fucking possessive because of it.
Gripping her thighs, I lifted her up and her legs circled my waist. If it weren’t for all the flour, I would have fucked her right there on the counters. Instead I turned with her clinging to my torso and walked toward the stairs. Her eyes never left mine as I carried her up the stairs, and with her pussy pressed against my stomach, my cock was recovering quickly. Fuck, I could feel how wet she was. Wet from sucking my cock.
“This was supposed to be only about you,” she whispered, but her eyes brimmed with need.
“This is still about me, trust me, because giving you pleasure is the fucking best thing about all this.”
We arrived at our bed and I let myself fall forward. Aria squealed but I caught my weight with my palms, smirking down at her. She laughed, and swatted at my back. “You scared me.”
I lowered her completely and guided my cock toward her entrance, finding her ready for me, and slowly slid into her. When I was buried to the hilt, I moved down to my elbows, bringing our bodies flush together. Cupping Aria’s head, I kissed her as I moved in and out slowly.
Lovemaking. It wasn’t something I’d ever thought I’d do but fuck, with Aria I couldn’t get enough.
I didn’t speed up, neither my thrusts nor my kisses. I made sure to hit deep with every thrust, aiming for that spot that made Aria lose herself. Her eyes held mine as she gasped and moaned, wonder on her gorgeous face. I wanted to guide her over the edge with only my cock again, and she was getting there. My own release was close, even though I’d shot my cum not too long ago.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, then gasped as I hit deep.
I took her mouth, slow and sweet, and then she arched up, walls clamping around me, and my balls tightened as my own release hit me hard.
Afterwards, I buried my nose in her hair as I caught my breath. I began to push myself up but Aria tightened her hold on my shoulders, and I stayed on top of her yet raised my eyes to hers.
Love. The emotion was written all across her face, and it still seemed impossible that she could love me because no one ever had. I had been born with cruelty in my veins, had been raised to break others.
“Happy birthday, Luca,” she said quietly. “Our first birthday together.”
“The first of many,” I murmured because no matter what, I would never let her go.
Aria smiled. “You have to open your present.”
My eyebrows rose. “I thought this was my present?”
“Sex and a cake?” Aria asked indignantly. She began wiggling under me and I smirked, not moving an inch.
“Luca,” she said, but I silenced her with another kiss and she relaxed under me. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I pushed off her and got to my feet, pulling her along. “So what is it?”
She shook her head and led me out of the bedroom and back downstairs, then into one of our guest bedrooms. There was a rectangular package, about five by fifteen feet in diameter. I stopped, confused. I’d expected expensive alcohol or a watch like most wives bought their husbands, but I had no clue what this was supposed to be.
Aria tugged at my hand and led me closer. “Won’t you unpack it?”
I released her hand and picked up the package. It was only a couple of inches thick, and not as heavy as I’d expected.
Aria laughed. “It doesn’t bite, trust me.”
I ripped away the gift wrap and froze, stunned. It was a canvas with graffiti art. In the background was the skyline of New York, and in the front was the Famiglia motto in red letters.
“When you told me that you like graffiti art from Banksy and other artists, I thought it would be nice to get you art like that for your office in the Sphere.”
I stared at Aria. She bit her lip. Shortly before Christmas we’d walked through New York together and I’d showed her my favorite graffiti, pretty much the only art I gave the slightest fuck about, but I didn’t think she remembered.
“Where did you get it?”
“Romero and I tried to find out who Banksy is but that was impossible, so I contacted a few of the less secretive graffiti artists in the city and asked them to create a piece of art for me.” Aria fell silent. “You don’t like it? I thought something personal would be better than just getting you something expensive like a watch, especially since it feels like you are buying your own gift because it’s all your money…”
I staggered toward her, cupped her face and kissed her fiercely. When I pulled back, her brows puckered with confusion. “It’s our money, Aria, not mine. Everything I own is also yours.”
“So I’m practically Capo,” she said teasingly, and I chuckled.
“You rule over my heart, so in some ways yes.”
I paused because I realized it was the truth. No one had ever held power over me, not like Aria did, and it was the scariest thing in this world because no one could ever find out.
“So you like your present?”
“Fuck yes. It’s perfect. How am I ever going to match up to that for your birthday?”
Aria grinned. “You still have a month to come up with something.”
“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure.”
Her eyes were alight with mirth. “You are a big boy, a tough mobster, a notorious bad boy—I think you can deal.”
I leaned down, my voice low and dark. “Bad boy, hmm?”
She circled my neck with her arms. “I really don’t know why people fear you—you’re kind of cute.”
I snorted because nobody had ever called me that, and nobody would if they knew what was good for them. “They fear me because I am a bad boy, love.”
Bad didn’t even begin to cover it.
Aria nodded with a small smile. “I know, and you know what?” She lowered her voice. “In the bedroom I like it sometimes if you act like a bad boy.”
Good Lord, Aria. I kissed her hard.
Aria would always see only my tame side.
ARIA
“Damn it!” Luca’s shout made me jerk awake. The mattress shifted under his weight and I turned around, blinking back sleep. Luca was getting dressed, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he pulled up his pants.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Fuck!”
I sat up, worried. Luca put down his cell and put a shirt over his gun holster, then turned to me, grimacing. “Someone threw a Molotov cocktail into one of the Famiglia’s whorehouses. Two whores were burnt badly, and all the furniture burnt down. The police and the fire department are there. I have to go and limit the damage.”
I nodded slowly, stifling my disappointment. He moved toward me, gave me a quick kiss then walked out.
I bit my lip, shoving down my hurt. It was my birthday.
I slid out of bed, reached for my mobile and saw Gianna’s message. The moment she saw I was online, my phone rang. After I’d talked to Gianna, Fabiano and Lily, I felt better and got dressed.
I knew Luca needed to take care of Famiglia business if he wanted to be a good Capo, and yet I wondered if he had forgotten my birthday altogether. I headed downstairs where Romero was sitting at the counter. He smiled when he spotted me and got up. “Happy birthday, Aria.”
I offered him a shaky smile in return and his expression softened further. “Luca will be back as soon as he’s done.”
I gave a small shrug and poured myself a coffee. Loneliness washed over me. I didn’t have any friends in New York. As the wife of the Capo people in our circles didn’t treat me like a normal human being, and I couldn’t really be friends with outsiders. Swallowing my emotions, I took a sip of my coffee.
The elevator binged and Romero stepped in front of me but relaxed when Marianna walked in, carrying a cake. Her dark gray hair was secured with a hairnet as usual, and her dress strained over her plump body and ample breasts. Her motherly face pulled into a wide smile and upon putting the cake down, she pulled me into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, bambina. I baked almond cake for you. Luca told me it’s your favorite.” She frowned at Romero. “Where is he anyway?”
“Business,” Romero said simply.
Marianna didn’t ask any questions.
“Luca asked you to bake the cake?”
“He did.” Marianna cut off three slices of the cake, then took out plates and handed Romero and me each one and kept one for herself. We dug in, and I had to admit the cake was better than anything I’d eaten in a very long time. Marianna was a goddess in the kitchen.
Marianna touched my cheek. “You look sad. Why don’t you go out and have some fun with Romero?”
I wanted to spend the day with Luca but since that wasn’t going to happen, I gave a nod. Romero took me out for lunch to a nice restaurant, and afterwards I went all trophy wife and spent thousands in Century21, my favorite department store in Manhattan. We returned to the penthouse after a quick dinner in a small bistro. I didn’t bother removing the new clothes from the shopping bags; instead I grabbed a wool blanket and a book and headed out onto the terrace, where I curled up on the chair. Romero didn’t join me, probably picking up on my dark mood. I let my gaze stray over the skyline, a few tears slipping out, and I pulled up my legs and wrapped my arms tightly around them.
The sound of the door sliding open drew my eyes toward the French windows and Luca stepped out onto the terrace, his expression twisting with regret as his eyes settled on my face. I quickly wiped away my tears and stood, but Luca picked me up and kissed me. “Happy birthday, principessa. I wish I could have spent the day with you.”
“Romero kept me busy,” I said with a small shrug.
Luca shook his head. “Not good enough.” He carried me into the apartment and up into our bedroom. My eyes settled on the bed. A bouquet of white roses and a parcel lay on top of it. I smiled and kissed Luca’s throat before he set me down. I smelled the roses, then took the parcel and unwrapped it. Inside was a red velvet box, which I opened. A rose-gold bar bracelet sat on a gray cushion. Nineteen diamonds were embedded in the smooth rose-gold surface.
“Turn it around,” Luca said quietly.
I did and found words engraved into the inside of the bracelet.
In the darkest hour you are my light
Swallowing, I looked up into Luca’s warm eyes. He gripped his shirt, pulled it over his head and turned around. I froze when I saw the new tattoo on his shoulder blade, mirroring his Famiglia tattoo. The skin was still red.
I read the intricate black inked letters: I’ll go where you go no matter how dark the path
The words I’d said to Luca shortly after our wedding. He remembered them. I sucked in a deep breath, pressing my lips together, but not crying was a losing battle. His two tattoos on both sides of his heart. Luca turned and stepped close to me, brushing away the tears. He pressed my palm against his Famiglia tattoo over his heart. “My oath came first, but the words on my back mean more.”
I swallowed. He wasn’t supposed to say something like that. For a Made Man the Famiglia came first, and even more so for a Capo. I nodded, brushed my lips over his. “Those words on your back, I mean them, Luca. I will follow you anywhere. Your darkness doesn’t scare me. I love you, your strength and loyalty, your tenderness and protectiveness. I love your gentle side, but just as much I love your darkness. I’ll love you in your darkest hour, I’ll love you even when you are weak, and if you need me to be your light, I will. I love every piece of you, Luca.”
He crushed me to his chest and I held him as tightly. His love was the greatest gift of all.
It was April when Lily and Gianna came to visit. From the moment I’d seen Gianna, I knew something was up, but we didn’t get the chance to talk until one evening when Luca and Matteo were out on business and Romero was busy playing Scrabble with Lily. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?” I asked her as we enjoyed the view over New York from the rooftop terrace.
Gianna didn’t immediately reply, and that wasn’t normal for her. “I can’t do this, Aria. I want out. Out of this world. Out of my arranged marriage. Just out.”
I’d suspected something along this line but now that she voiced it aloud, worry and fear slammed into me. “You want to run?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Gianna slanted me a look. There was no hint of doubt on her face. “Absolutely. Ever since the Bratva attacked the mansion and I saw what Matteo is capable of, I knew I had to run.”
“It’s not just Matteo, you know that, right? He isn’t any worse than any other Made Man.” Matteo could be funny and charming. I was sure Gianna and he could be happy if she allowed herself to let him in, but I knew her, knew how stubborn she could be. She wouldn’t let me talk her into giving Matteo a chance.
“That makes it even worse. I know that pretty much all the men in our world are capable of horrible things, and one day even Fabi will be, and I hate it, hate every second I’m trapped in this messed-up world.”
“I thought you and Matteo were getting along better. You didn’t try to rip each other’s heads off today.”
“He’s trying to manipulate me. Didn’t you see how easily he could make Lily forget her nervousness around him?”
“It could be worse. Most men wouldn’t have forgiven you for giving them such a hard time, but he really seems to like you.” I wasn’t sure if Luca would have let me mess with him like that.
“Are you on his side?”
I had no intention of choosing sides. “I’m not on his side. I’m just trying to show you an alternative to running away.”
“Why? You know I’ve never wanted this life. Why are you trying to make me stay?”
I gripped her wrist, getting angry. “Because I don’t want to lose you, Gianna!”
“You won’t lose me.”
“Yes, I will. Once you’ve run away, we can’t ever see each other again, maybe not even talk unless we figure out a way to do it without risking the mob tracing you.”
“I know,” Gianna whispered. “You could come with me.”
In the past I’d often resented the golden cage I’d been raised in, and even now I sometimes wondered how it would feel to wander through New York without Romero, to go to college and live life by only my own rules. “I can’t.”
She turned away from me. “Because you love Luca.”
There was a hint of disapproval in her voice, but I wouldn’t defend my feelings. Loving Luca wasn’t something I would never feel bad about. “Yes, but that’s not the only reason. I can’t leave Fabi and Lily behind either, and I’ve made peace with this life. It’s all I’ve ever known. I’m okay with it.”
“Do you think I’m abandoning them if I leave?”
“They’ll understand. Not everyone is cut out for a life in this world. You’ve always wanted to live a normal life, and they’ll still have me. You have to think of yourself. I just want you to be happy.”
“I don’t think I can be happy here.”
“Because you don’t want to marry a killer, because you can’t live with what Matteo does.”
“No,” she said quietly. “Because I can see myself being okay with it.”
I regarded her face. “What’s wrong with that?” I knew what Luca was, what he was capable of. I knew he wouldn’t change and I didn’t want him to because I loved the man he was now.
“Are you okay with what Luca does? Don’t you ever lie awake at night feeling guilty for being married to a man like him?”
“We come from a family of men like him. Do you want me to feel guilty?”
“No. But normal people would feel guilty. Can’t you see how messed up we are? I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to spend my life with a man who carves up his enemies.”
Luca always claimed I was pure and innocent, but I wasn’t, not by normal standards.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you feel bad. I just…I know I have to risk it. I have to try to get away from all this and live a life without all the violence and messed-up morals. I’ll always regret it if I don’t.”
“You know you can’t ever come back. There’s no going back once you’ve run. Even if Matteo would forgive you for insulting him like that, the Outfit would be responsible for your punishment until your marriage. And running away from the mafia is betrayal.”
“I know.”
“The Outfit punishes betrayal with death. Because you aren’t a Made Man, they might decide to go easy on you and throw you into one of their whorehouses or marry you off to someone far worse than Matteo.”
“I know.”
I gripped Gianna’s shoulder because I didn’t think she did. “Do you really? Few people risk running from the mob and there’s a reason for it. Most people get caught.”
“Most people but not all of them.”
“Have you ever heard of someone who escaped the mob successfully?”
“No, but I doubt anyone would tell us about them. Neither Father, nor Matteo or Luca have any interest in putting ideas in our heads.”
I dropped my hands, sighing. “You are really determined to go through with this.”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I said, because I knew there was nothing I could do to change Gianna’s mind and I didn’t want her to start keeping secrets from me. “You can’t do it alone. If you want any chance at succeeding you’ll need my help.”
“No,” she said. “I can do it on my own.”
“If I help you to run, I’ll betray the Famiglia and by doing so my husband,” I whispered. Luca would see it as betrayal. He’d been brought up with the conviction that his word would be law, that not following his command was betrayal.
“You are right. And I can’t let you take that risk.”
I took her hand. “No, I will help you. I’m your only choice. And if anyone can make it, then it’s you. You never wanted to be part of all this.”
“Aria, you said it yourself, what I’m doing is betrayal and the mob deals harshly with people who betray them. Luca isn’t the forgiving type.”
“Luca won’t hurt me.” Gianna looked doubtful but I knew those words to be true, and not just since he’d inked my words into his skin. “He won’t. If Salvatore Vitiello were still alive, things would be different. I’d have been under his jurisdiction, but Luca is Capo and he won’t punish me.”
“Maybe his men won’t leave him a choice. He’s a new Capo and if he looks weak, his men might revolt. Luca won’t risk his power, not even for you. The Famiglia comes first to Made Men.”
“Trust me,” I said.
“I trust you. It’s Luca whom I don’t trust.”
“And if you think about it, I wouldn’t really be betraying the Famiglia. You are still part of the Outfit until you marry Matteo. That means what I’m doing is a betrayal of the Outfit at most, but I’m not bound to them, so I can’t betray them.”
“Luca might not see it that way. Even if you aren’t betraying the Famiglia, you’re still going behind Luca’s back. Not to mention that Matteo will probably move Heaven and earth to find me.”
“True. He’ll hunt you.”
“He’ll eventually lose interest.”
Knowing Matteo’s obsession with my sister, I doubted it. “Perhaps. But I wouldn’t count on it. We have to make sure he can’t find you.”
“Aria, I shouldn’t have come to you with this. You can’t get involved.”
“Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’d feel guilty if I didn’t help you and you got caught,” I told her.
“And I will feel guilty if you get in trouble for helping me.”
“I’m helping you. End of story.”
