This was starting to get aggravating. With each passing day, people seemed to tiptoe around me more and more. I’d never been this idle in my life. Sera hid my laptop and Dad had instructed everyone in the office to ignore my calls and texts. I’d been sidelined as the head of De Lucci Transnational. Of course I was grouchy.
It had been ten days since the asshole shot me.
That was probably why Mom suggested a cozy gathering tonight and promised I wouldn’t be consuming bland food anymore. Throw Mr. Grouch a bone and all.
Still no alcohol though.
Sitting on the daybed by the window in our room, I pretended to scroll through my phone. In reality I was watching my wife get ready for dinner.
We had moved to the De Lucci mansion on Staten Island. Nobody had lived here since my grandfather passed away five years ago. There were caretakers and housekeepers to maintain the grounds and the residence since it was the best place for a ball. The security had been updated recently.
Dad and Mom temporarily moved from their Manhattan row house to the east wing of the mansion. Meanwhile, Sera and I occupied the west wing. This was so they could help her out in managing my ass. I could see how Mom struggled to let Sera make the decisions with regards to my care, offering advice and suggestions without being pushy. I knew it was difficult for my mother to hold back, but I was thankful. Now more than ever, we needed to make Sera feel like she is a part of the family.
In a perfect world, I’d still be scrolling through business news of the day and sipping scotch while waiting for my beautiful wife to get ready. Or maybe interrupt her preparation with a quickie. Damn, those thoughts were making me more miserable.
She was sitting in front of an antique vanity that belonged to my great-grandmother.
Sera smiled at my reflection while putting on an earring. “Do you need anything?”
I shook my head. Sometimes her solicitousness was cute and sometimes it downright irked me. The annoyance was more directed at myself than my wife. It was a me problem for feeling like a worthless husband so soon after I said my vows to cherish and protect her. Since I’d been off painkillers for two days, lacerated liver or not, my libido had come back full force. Not that I doubted I could get the job done, but Sera had been adamant we shouldn’t put a strain on my body. I couldn’t wait to get over this shit and fuck my wife properly.
It didn’t help that I was sleeping beside her but was not allowed to make any sexual advances. That was under threat that she would bring in an extra bed and not sleep beside me at all. My only consolation was the satisfaction that she felt like she couldn’t resist if I tried.
“If you don’t stop staring at me, I’m going to burst into flames,” she said with amusement.
“There’s nothing else I can do, can I?” I responded dryly.
Sera got up and padded gracefully across the room like a ballerina. She moved between my legs and pressed a kiss on my mouth. My hand reached up and prevented her head from moving away, bringing her mouth to me again. I devoured her lips. She made a tiny sound at the back of her throat that had a direct line to my dick.
I held her there until I was satisfied with the kiss. “There,” I said after tearing my lips away. I was hard as a rock. “That’s how you should kiss your husband.”
“It’s for your own good.” Her gaze dropped to my erection. “Now what are we going to do with that?”
“It could use a little loving.” And I could use two fingers of scotch to numb my blue balls.
She rolled her eyes and took a step back. “I need something,” she said.
I raised a brow. “I’m listening.”
She laughed.
Humor twitched the corners of my mouth. And just like that, I was feeling less irritated.
“I need you to help me put on my bracelet. The clasp is funky.”
She held out her arm and the bracelet. It took a bit of finagling, but I got the bracelet around her wrist. “The band needs a replacement.”
“I know,” she said. “Your mom said she could take it to a jeweler.” Her mouth turned down. “But it’s a trinket I bought from a street vendor. I don’t know if it’s worth the expense and time.”
I leaned forward and put a finger on her lips. “But it’s important to you.”
Her eyes gleamed with that exaggerated dope-love expression I found so cute.
“I’m so lucky to have a husband like you,” she declared.
“The verdict is still out on that,” I muttered. Damn, what I would give to show her what she meant to me.
Sera leaned in and clasped my jaw. “Stop the pity party. It’s unbecoming and so not you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her gaze dropped to my bare feet. “The guests are arriving soon. You need your shoes.”
I lost her closeness briefly when she rummaged through the dresser. She returned with my shoes and socks and knelt to help me put them on. Usually, I had visions of her kneeling and giving me a blow job, but right now, those visions were replaced by an intangible emotion, a tight ache in my chest.
After she was done, I cupped her cheek and tilted up her chin. “Thank you, baby.”
She smiled. “You’d do the same for me.”
No question. “I’m fine here. Go finish up. They’re waiting for us.”
Sera
“How’s our boy doing?”
I looked up from arranging the antipasti plate to see Aunt Carlotta walking in with a casserole. Beside her was Paulie. They’d visited a couple of days ago. Matteo hadn’t been in the most receptive mood then.
“Same,” I said. “Hopefully this tastier food will make him feel better.”
“He’s not used to being sidelined,” Paulie said. “Where are they?” They meaning the guys. I didn’t even try to decipher if he was asking about where my mother-in-law was.
“In the office.”
Paulie gave my aunt a quick kiss on the cheek. “You okay? I’ll check on them.”
“Sure thing, caro,” Carlotta said walking straight to the ovens like she’d done it a million times. She rearranged some dishes that were cooking there.
“Oooh,” Carlotta said. “I guess this pot here is Guinness stew?”
“Yes, Mrs. De—” I was still getting used to calling my mother-in-law Mom. “Mom said it was food for the soul.”
“Poor boy, it must be killing him not to be able to drink.”
It jarred me whenever people referred to Matteo as a boy. He was all man even when he was injured, but I could hardly tell my aunt that. “He’ll just have to suck it up for a few more days.”
Carlotta laughed. “You’re just the woman to handle my nephew.”
I gave my aunt a dubious look. “Not sure about that. He can be very persuasive.”
“And bossy,” a voice called from the opening of the kitchen. Bianca and Liz walked in.
Home from Harvard, Bianca was staying with Renz and Liz for the weekend. Why spend it bouncing around in this big mansion when it was more fun in Manhattan? After we exchanged greetings, Carlotta turned to me. “Where is Ava?”
“Getting ready. She was busy all day with the dinner.” I had offered to help, but she said my place was with Matteo. At least she assigned me the appetizers though. I was an okay cook, but Matteo’s mother was a rock star. She moved fluidly in the kitchen. She used to be a line and prep cook at their pub. I heard Papa Cesar could hold his own in the kitchen too.
My aunt was giving my dress the once-over. “Love your little black number.”
“Thanks.” I complimented her on the turquoise satin sheath she was wearing.
“Is it from your friend’s store?” she asked.
Ivy had sent me this sweet little black dress that Matteo paid for. I wore it one time when we went to a cozy restaurant in Boothbay Wharf. Our time in Maine seemed so long ago.
“Yes.” I grinned.
“We should all go there, Aunt Lottie.” Bianca came forward, scrutinizing the lace on my dress. “It’s classic New York, but still modern. I’m digging it.”
“Is Ivy coming to dinner?” Liz asked.
I shook my head. “She’s site-hunting in Vegas.”
“I follow her on social media,” Bianca told me.
“I heard.”
“She’s so popular.” She whipped out her phone. “Her fans are asking about Matsera.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Matsera?” Carlotta asked.
“Matteo and Sera,” Liz and Bianca said at the same time. Carlotta walked over to Matteo’s sister. My aunt brought out her own phone and heaven forbid followed Ivy too.
“Dinner should be ready soon.” Ava swept into the room, stopped, and surveyed our huddle. “Wow, I’m glad I wore something other than sneakers and jeans.”
“I don’t know how you do it, but you carry it with class,” I said.
“She does.” Bianca beamed as she gave her mother a kiss. “She’s the carbon copy of Katie Moore…that supermodel of the nineties who made waif-like chic.”
“I can see that,” I said and meant it. Even my friend Ivy said Matteo’s mom was so classy.
“Okay, stop your flattery, sweetie,” Ava told her daughter. “How much?”
Everyone laughed.
Bianca groaned, “Mom, can’t I pay you a compliment?”
“Of course,” Ava insisted. “But…what’s the damage?”
Everyone laughed harder.
“Well…I’m kind of at the end of my allowance.” Bianca went into a litany of things she needed for college.
Ava shook her head. “This might take a while to discuss.” She turned to me. “Can you get the boys? Don’t bother knocking. They might pretend to ignore you unless one of them is really hungry.”
“Not sure I want to be the one interrupting them,” I said.
“I would go, but you need to learn.” Carlotta studied her nails.
I looked at Liz, and she shrugged.
“Where’s Renz and Sam?”
“Renz is on his way. Sam is with her Irish cousins. Works out well so we can have a grown-up dinner, which isn’t often.”
I smiled at her with empathy. This was a common enough problem when young kids were involved. I remembered the times when Mamma and Papà left me with the nanny. But that didn’t mean they loved me less. They just needed time for themselves, too, and I could see that was the case with Renz and Liz. They were very hands-on parents despite having to run a business.
“Looks like it’s up to me.”
Carlotta and Ava exchanged a look.
Okay, this might be some kind of test. I marched out of the dirty kitchen into their show kitchen that led into an enormous hall where I could imagine high tops or tables being set up. Above it was a domed ceiling gilded with gold. A second-floor balcony overlooked the grand hall. I could almost hear a string quartet and chatter of the gatherings that took place here all those years ago. As Matteo had told it, that was how his parents reconnected. Cesar met Ava when she was twelve and he was twenty-three. More than a decade later, they met again and it was during a party at this De Lucci mansion when things between them heated up. What was more interesting, Ava had been a part of the catering staff. Matteo also said Carlotta had been a pain in the butt that time. As my heels clacked across the floor, it looked like they had gotten over their differences. Carlotta had her faults and could be catty and petty, but deep down she had a good heart.
I walked into the hallway and came upon the study. There were raised voices—not exactly mad at each other, but heated discussions.
“I want to get back into the swing of things on Monday,” Matteo said.
“No rush to get back,” Cesar told him. “Work from home.”
“I’m not having Mrs. Mancini come here,” my husband said. “You shouldn’t have given her hope, Dad.”
“She just needs guidance.”
“Look, I know their family has been friends with the De Luccis since Grandpa’s time, but you left me in charge.”
“This is not a discussion for tonight,” Nico started.
“And where were you in all this?” Matteo growled.
Ava’s words came back to me, but I was too unsure to just barge in there. I rapped strongly on the door and opened it. “Mrs. De Lucci said to interrupt you all to say dinner is ready.”
“And no one dares object to my wife’s decree,” Cesar said with a chuckle, but the strain was evident on his face.
“Saved by the bell,” Paulie muttered. He was seated on one of the couches and I wouldn’t have noticed him if he hadn’t spoken.
I walked into the room straight to Matteo. He was sitting behind the desk, looking paler, and a white line became prominent on his upper lip. “Are you okay?”
“He’s fine.” Nico smirked. “He’s just not used to this much excitement.”
“I can answer for myself,” Matteo snapped.
“We’ll see if the women need any help.” Cesar clapped a hand on Nico’s shoulder before jerking his chin at Paulie.
Matteo hadn’t risen from his chair and he was still scowling.
I grew worried. “Are you all right? Is anything hurting?”
“I’m fine,” he clipped. “Just irritated.”
My eyes fell on the screen in front of him. It showed a worksheet of sorts and it didn’t take my business degree to tell me the company on there was in trouble with all the negative signs and red highlights.
“Is that the Mancini account your dad is talking about?”
My husband sighed and shut the lid on the laptop.
He seemed annoyed with me as well.
“I’m sorry. Was that confidential?”
“You’re my wife,” he said. “I’ve got nothing to hide.” His smile was forced and it was one I was unfamiliar with.
“Come on, I have a feeling your mother’s stew is going to put you in a better mood.”
He stood but held me back. “Sera…it’s nothing, all right? That Mancini account? Don’t worry your pretty head over it.”
My stomach dropped to my toes. He made me feel worse. Unbidden tears came to my eyes, but I averted my gaze and kept a smile plastered to my face. My husband was vulnerable and deserved all my support.
“Fine with me,” I said. “Come on, let’s get you fed.”
“I wish you’d stop treating me like a child.”
I held my tongue. Our sweet time in the bedroom quickly turned on a dime when more stress was added. I had to push away thoughts that we’d rushed into this marriage.
Patience. I instinctively twisted my bracelet of St. Rita.
We walked side by side, not touching. I even let Matteo open the door for us.
My hovering over him must be wearing thin.
We were surprised to see a crowd had gathered in front of the study instead of the dining room.
Dom was talking to the guys with a thundercloud on his face. Trevor was also there with their crew.
“What’s going on?” Matteo asked.
“Santino just challenged the Galluzo leadership and wiped out most of its inner sanctum.”
“You mean the Conte clan?” my husband pressed.
“No. Don Vincenzo Conte has gone into hiding.” Dom paused. “Santino has taken over the entire Galluzo organization and it’s bloody chaos.”
