Luca Vitiello by Cora Reilly

CHAPTER 10

I felt like an intruder in my own penthouse. Trying to evade Aria was almost impossible. Wherever I went, her scent seemed to linger. I was growing tired of having to tiptoe around the fucking apartment, of not knowing how to handle the woman in front of me. My go-to reaction with anyone else would have been harshness, maybe even a threat or violence. My father had never walked on eggshells around his wives. He’d broken them until they anticipated his every demand before he ever uttered a word.

My eyes followed my wife as she sank down on the sofa with a book. She kept her distance from me, and so did I, but damn it, I couldn’t stop looking at her. “I have work to do all day,” I informed her. As if she gave a fuck.

“Okay,” she said simply.

Stifling my frustration, I turned and headed for the elevator. Romero had sent me a message that he was almost there. The door opened on Matteo’s floor and he joined me. “Still no luck?”

I glowered, knowing exactly what he meant. “No. She can’t bear my touch.”

Matteo regarded me curiously. “Maybe you’re just trying the wrong approach.”

“And what kind of approach do you suggest?” I gritted out.

He shrugged. “I don’t know your wife well enough to tell you what kind of approach she requires. Maybe you should ask Romero—after all, he spends more time with her than you.” Matteo grinned challengingly.

“Fuck you.”

When we stepped into the underground garage, I almost bumped into Romero, who was about to take the elevator up to the penthouse.

“Luca, Matteo,” he said with a small nod.

“I’ll be gone all day to check on the drug lab that reported suspicious delivery trucks in their street and won’t be back until midnight. Keep Aria busy.”

“Yeah, keep her busy,” Matteo said, wiggling his eyebrows.

I almost punched him. He was pushing all my buttons today.

Romero regarded us curiously. “You’re gone a lot.”

I was when I should be spending every second banging my beautiful wife.

“He’s busy fucking his whore, Grace,” Matteo said.

Disapproval flickered across Romero’s face before he could hide it. “Aria is a good woman.”

“She’s my woman and none of your business, Romero,” I snarled. “Make sure you guard her and keep her entertained.” I stepped up to him. “And no word about Grace to her.”

Romero gave a tight nod. He stepped inside the elevator without another word.

Matteo chuckled as he followed me toward my car. His bike parked right beside it. “You know how to make people hate you. Aria, Romero…”

“I don’t give a fuck if they hate me, as long as they do as I say. Both of them are forever bound to me by their fucking vows.”

Matteo mounted his bike. I got into my car before he could say anything else that would drive me up the wall.

Later that day I got a message from Father.

Matteo sent me a questioning look. “You look like you swallowed a bitter pill.”

“Father wants to see us.”

Matteo grimaced. “Again?”

“Come on. Let’s head over there. I want to get this over with as soon as possible.”

When we arrived in front of the mansion in the Upper West Side where Matteo and I had grown up, my insides tightened as they always did. I hated this fucking place, hated the memories connected to it. From the outside it was regally white, but it harbored only darkness. Light hadn’t been part of our childhood, or our present.

Matteo was already waiting on the bottom of the stairs leading up to the double doors. He was always quicker on his bike. His expression held the same apprehension that I felt.

We didn’t say anything as we headed up the stairs. The camera swiveled toward us. I keyed in the code that would switch off the alarm system and unlocked the door. The guards would already have seen our faces and stayed in their rooms in the back of the house. Matteo and I both froze in the entrance hall when Nina’s cry rang out.

“I’m sorry, Salvatore. Please…” She cried out again.

My hand curled to a tight fist. “Father, we’re here!”

Matteo shook his head, his mouth tight. “We should kill him,” he whispered. “You’re a better Capo. You’re a better everything.”

“Shhh,” I growled. Matteo had spoken quietly, but Father was paranoid. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to have micros hidden away somewhere so he could hear everything that went on in his home. There was nothing I wanted more than to kill my father, but the Famiglia would never accept patricide.

Father appeared on the landing, only in a bathrobe. He didn’t even bother closing it, and I had to stop myself from grimacing in disgust. He was covered in blood and still sporting a fucking boner from whatever he’d been doing to Nina. His cold eyes settled on Matteo and me, and his mouth pulled into a creepy benevolent smile. “Sons, good to see you.”

I knew he was trying to get a reaction out of us, daring us to look away from the sight of his disgusting old man dick. But Matteo and I were his sons. We had seen and done so many horrible things. No way in hell would we show weakness in front of that bastard.

“You called for us,” I said simply. Matteo stayed silent, which was for the best.

Father regarded my brother, and I knew he was daring him to say something. My muscles tensed. He had at least six guards in the back of the house. If Matteo lost his shit and we had to kill our father and his men, it would get nasty. Thankfully, Matteo gave a tight smile. It was fucking fake, but Father wouldn’t know that.

His self-satisfied smirk widened. “I have a few matters to discuss with you. I’m taking a shower and getting dressed. Check on Nina and see if she’s still breathing.”

I gave a terse nod. Satisfied with our obedience, Father turned and headed for his bedroom. Matteo met my gaze, and the look in his eyes worried me. “Let’s check on Nina,” I told him firmly.

Without a word, we headed upstairs and toward the bedroom Nina slept in. Father didn’t share a bed with her; he only sought her out when he wanted to fuck or when they had social events to attend.

The door was ajar. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open, hoping I wouldn’t have to dispose of a body or make up an inane story about how Nina had died so we could publicly bury her.

Soft sobbing came from inside. My eyes landed on the bed where Nina was tied, spread-eagle. She was bruised, bloody, and naked.

“Fuck,” Matteo muttered. It wasn’t the first time that Father had done something like it. I pulled my knife, and so did Matteo. Nina whimpered when I cut through the binds around her ankles while Matteo freed her arms. She tried to sit up, but she must have been tied up for a while and couldn’t manage.

I reached for the satin gown discarded on the ground and draped it over her before I pulled her into a sitting position. I bent low so I was eye level with her. “Why don’t you run?”

Nina looked toward Matteo. “He would sent you after me.” Matteo was the best hunter in the Famiglia. He’d hunted down a few traitors.

“Matteo wouldn’t find you,” I muttered.

“I can’t,” she said firmly. “Where would I go? What would I do? This is my world.”

I straightened. Nina tolerated Father’s sadism because she loved the luxury and the money he could offer her. I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t have the patience to try.

Steps rang out and I moved back. Father appeared in the doorway, dressed in a dark suit and a high collared shirt.

“Salvatore,” Nina simpered submissively.

Father didn’t look at her, only at me and Matteo. “Why don’t you have a go at her? I don’t mind sharing her with my sons.”

He’d offered her to us before. I wasn’t sure if it was another way to test us and if he’d really let us touch what was his. Hatred filled me. I couldn’t understand my father’s reasoning. He was a disgusting monster. Instead of protecting her, he treated her like shit. I’d never hurt Aria like that, much less allow anyone to see her naked, or, heaven forbid, touch her. I’d kill anyone who thought he had a right to my woman. She’d never have to submit to anyone but me.

“Luca’s got his young, little wife. Why would he want me?” Nina said quickly as if she really thought I’d consider it. I hadn’t last time, and I wouldn’t. It was bad enough that she had to bear Father’s touch; I wouldn’t break her further.

“She’s so shy and petite. I can only imagine how much fun it is to break her, right?” Nina said as if she needed other women to suffer so her own became easier.

I hated and pitied her equally.

“What about you, Matteo?” Father asked.

“I prefer my women young, and prettier,” he got out. It was a lie. Nina wasn’t that much older than the women we both took into our bed, and she was beautiful with her long brown hair and slender figure.

Father shrugged, then finally turned to his wife who’d managed to put on her bathrobe by now. “Take one of the guards and buy yourself a few new shoes and dresses.”

She smiled and nodded.

“But put on make-up, you look like shit,” he added.

I turned on my heel and left the room, not giving a fuck if Father still wanted me there. Matteo was close behind me, his eyes burning with rage. The same rage I felt. Maybe we should just kill him. Kill him today, and try to make it look as if someone else had. Nobody would be sad to see him gone. Not a fucking soul.

“In my office,” Father ordered as he followed us.

He took his time to sit down and lean back in his office chair, regarding Matteo and me.

“Still satisfied with your bride?” Father asked with a curl of his mouth.

Satisfaction hadn’t been part of my marriage so far, but that was something Father couldn’t find out.

I smirked. “I am. As you said, Aria is more beautiful than any other woman I’ve ever seen.”

“That she is,” Father said in a strange voice, and my hackles rose.

Matteo looked from him to me and his eyes sent a clear message. He’d be with me. He’d cut the bastard down if I gave the sign. And I seriously considered it, because I hated him for what he’d done to Mother, for what he did to Nina and all the other women, hated him for how he’d ruined our childhood and still ruined our lives as much as he could, but right this second I hated him the most because of the fucking greedy note his voice had taken on when he spoke about Aria.

Father narrowed his eyes at me. I knew I hadn’t been quick enough to hide my possessiveness, much less my murderous thoughts. My muscles tensed, trying to consider the best way to kill him…shoot the camera in the corner and then kill the guards before they could alert reinforcement. I knew Father was hated among our men, but even the respect they harbored for me wouldn’t be enough to make me Capo, at least not of a united Famiglia. We would be torn in half between the men who were loyal to my father, or pretended to be because it suited them better, and my supporters. It would be the end of the Famiglia. The Outfit would use our moment of weakness to strike, truce or not. The Famiglia was my future, my fucking birthright.

I forced myself to relax. I’d kill him another day, when I’d figured out a way to do so without people finding out. Father smiled. “Do you enjoy breaking her?”

I stared into his eyes, my smile turning harsh. “I won’t talk about my wife, Father. She’s mine and whatever happens between her and me is only for me to know. I won’t share a fucking memory with anyone. Mine alone.”

Father chuckled, but then he sobered. “Good, good. As long as you don’t mistake your ownership of her for something else. Don’t let a cunt lead you around by your dick. Women are good for three things only.” He waited for me to recite what they were.

My hands itched for my gun, or better yet my knife. This kill would have to be personal. I wanted his blood trickling over my fingers, wanted his last breath against my skin. I wanted to rip his bowels out one after the other as he watched. “Fucking, sucking, and showing off,” I got out.

Father cackled.

“I assume you didn’t call us over so we could untie Nina for you?” Matteo asked with cocked eyebrows.

I sent him a glare.

Father narrowed his eyes. “No. The Famiglia in Sicily is struggling. The Camorra over there is much stronger than they are in the States.”

That was a safer topic than women, but my anger still simmered under my skin.

Aria was content ignoring me. She never sought my closeness and slept soundly beside me at night while I couldn’t stop watching her and wondering why she looked at me as if I were my father when I’d sworn to myself to treat her right.

Fuck. I was turning into a fucking pussy.

Two days had passed since my last meeting with Grace, but today I met her again, and I didn’t wait long. Grace didn’t look at me with disgust. With her, I didn’t feel like my sadistic bastard of a father, even when she wasn’t the woman I wanted.

Within a few minutes of her arrival, I had shoved her on all fours on the bed and was fucking her from behind.

My mind kept drifting to Aria with every thrust. I pushed Grace further down so I only saw her hair—blonde but so very different from the spun gold of my wife. I tried to imagine it was Aria, tried to imagine her flowery scent, but Grace’s sweet perfume clogged up my nose and her moans kept distracting me.

My grip on her hips tightened further and I thrust harder into her, but I could actually feel myself soften at her fucking view. That had never happened, not with anyone.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the woman before me, and instead an image of the woman I really wanted formed before my inner eye.

“Yes! Harder!” Grace screamed, and I almost snarled at her to shut the fuck up. Instead, I tightened my hold on her hips and slammed into her, anger consuming my veins. What the fuck was I doing?

“God yes,” she moaned.

A board creaked. Tension shot through me a second before I reached for my gun on the bed beside me and opened my eyes, expecting a Russian fucker trying to catch me by surprise. Fuck. Aria stared back at me with wide, horrified eyes. Shock washed over me and I stilled. What was she doing here? How had she found this place? I’d never wanted a Bratva ambush more than I did now. Anything was better than the hurt look on my wife’s face.

“What’s the matter, Luca?” Grace shoved her ass back, driving my cock deeper into her, but I was already going soft. Aria still hadn’t moved, and nor had I. Her blue eyes filled with tears, and my chest tightened uncomfortably. She should never have seen this.

Before I could decide what to do or say, she whirled around and started running.

“Fuck!” I growled.

I pushed Grace away when she tried to reach for me. “Let her leave.”

I pulled up my pants, fucking glad that I almost never undressed when I fucked Grace. I started chasing Aria with my shirt still unbuttoned and my fly open, not giving a fuck if someone saw. Aria disappeared in the elevator and, before I could reach it, the doors closed and it began its descent. Damn it. I took the stairs, trying to button up my shirt. I couldn’t go out in public half-naked. That was a newspaper article I didn’t want to have to explain to my fucking father.

I stormed out of the building, catching a glimpse of Romero running after Aria who hurried down the steps toward the Metro. I ran after them. Fuck. I needed to catch her, needed to stop her from doing something stupid, needed to explain. Fuck it all. People jumped out of my way in wide-eyed shock.

I jerked to a halt on the platform just when the doors closed. Romero was a few steps ahead, but he too hadn’t managed to board the Metro.

I watched the Metro disappear with Aria in it. My heart pounded in my chest, not just from the sprint, but from worry over my wife. My crying, hurt wife.

“Fuck!” I snarled.

Romero turned to face me, panting. “I’m sorry, Luca. I don’t know how she found out. She tricked me and slipped away.”

I was too worried about Aria to be pissed at Romero for letting her run off.

I fumbled for my cell and lifted it to my ear, calling Matteo.

“I thought you were banging Grace,” was the first thing out of his mouth. In the background, I could hear women laughing.

“I need your help. Aria caught me, and now she’s disappeared. We have to catch her before something happens to her.”

“Where are you?”

I told him where we’d be heading then hung up and called Cesare. Romero was already checking the stops of the Metro on his phone. “Where should we start?” he asked.

I took a deep breath, trying to anticipate Aria’s next move, but I didn’t know my wife well enough to guess where she’d be going, and she wasn’t familiar enough with New York to have favorite spots. “I want you to return to the penthouse in case she goes back there.”

Romero opened his mouth as if to protest, but I sent him a warning look. He’d messed up, not as bad as me, not nearly as bad as me, but still.

I went back to my car and drove to the first stop of the Metro. I doubted Aria had gotten off here, but I was at a loss as to where she could be.

Matteo pulled up next to me on his bike and opened his helmet. “Any clue where she could be heading?”

I shook my head.

“You realize your shirt is buttoned wrong?”

I ignored his comment. Where could Aria be? She was responsible and aware of the risks of our world. She would stay somewhere public, probably somewhere in Manhattan or maybe Brooklyn, but that still left about a million options. I closed my eyes briefly. If something happened to her…

“Luca?”

I looked at Matteo, who was frowning at me. “We’ll find her. Aria won’t run off. She’ll come back eventually.”

Eventually?

“Why don’t you call Gianna?”

I nodded. That was a good idea, but I doubted Gianna would tell me the first thing. Grabbing my phone, I realized I didn’t have the redhead’s number.

“Do you have her number?” I asked my brother. After all, he’d kissed her, so who knew if they’d exchanged more than spittle.

Matteo shook his head.

“Calling Scuderi is out of the question,” I muttered. Aria’s father would call my father, and then things would get nasty.

Cesare pulled up in his car and got out. We were only three men who needed to search New York.

We had to find Aria. There was no other option.

We’d been searching for Aria for almost two hours, but there was still no sign of her. My temple was throbbing, and I actually considered calling Scuderi after all. Screw the consequences. The only thing that mattered was getting back Aria.

My phone rang, and I picked up immediately.

“Aria just came home,” Romero said.

I sagged with relief. “Is she all right?”

“Yes,” Romero said without hesitation.

“Keep watch on her. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Matteo, Cesare and I arrived less than fifteen minutes later at my penthouse. Romero perched on the barstool but jumped off the moment we entered. “She’s upstairs, showering.”

His face reflected the same relief that I felt.

I walked past him, then continued upstairs. I pressed down the door handle but it was locked. I knocked. “Aria?”

No response.

I knocked harder. Still nothing. I could hear movement behind the door.

“Aria, let me in!” I hammered my fist against the door once more. I needed to see her with my own eyes, needed to make sure she was okay, unharmed. “I’m going to kick in the door if you don’t let me in.”

Matteo and Cesare slowly came up the stairs, watching me with worry. I didn’t give a fuck.

“Aria, open the fucking door!”

Finally, the lock was turned and I shoved open the door and stalked inside. Aria stood in the center of the room, dressed in a silk nightgown, her eyes swollen and red. I moved toward her and grabbed her arm, needing to know where she’d been, needing to explain what she’d seen.

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, wrenching out of my grip.

“Where have you been?” I rasped. I wanted to touch her arm again. I fucking needed to touch her, as if merely seeing her wasn’t enough to confirm she was unharmed. Aria jumped back, her eyes flashing with anger. “No! Don’t ever touch me again. Not when you use those same hands to touch your whore.”

“Out, everyone. Now,” I growled.

Steps rang out and then there was the familiar sound of the elevator.

“Where have you been?” My pulse was pounding wildly. Didn’t Aria understand how much danger she’d been in?

Aria glared at me, but behind the anger lingered deep hurt, and I didn’t get it. “I wasn’t cheating on you if that’s what you’re worried about. I would never do that. I think faithfulness is the most important thing in a marriage, so you can calm yourself now—my body is still only yours. I only walked around the city.”

If she knew how eager the Bratva probably was to get her hands on my wife, then she wouldn’t have done it. “You walked around New York at night? Alone?”

“You have no right to be angry with me, Luca. Not after what I saw today. You cheated on me.”

Guilt flared up in my chest, but I shoved it down. I was never guilty about anything. “How can I be cheating when we don’t have a real marriage? I can’t even fuck my own wife. Do you think I’ll live like a monk until you decide you can stand my closeness?”

Aria swallowed hard. “God forbid. How dare I expect my husband to be faithful to me? How dare I hope for this small decency in a monster?”

Faithful? Was this even a real marriage? Aria might have said yes, but she didn’t act like she wanted to be my wife. She’d looked at me like I was my father. “I’m not a monster. I’ve treated you with respect.”

“Respect? I caught you with another woman! Maybe I should go out, bring a random guy back with me and let him fuck me in front of your eyes. How would that make you feel?” Aria hissed, and something snapped inside me.

I grabbed her by the hips and hoisted her on the bed, pressing her down with my weight as I held her wrists above her head. Nobody would ever touch her. Nobody but me.

“Do it. Take me, so I can really hate you,” Aria whispered harshly, tears glistening in her eyes. She closed them and turned her face away. My gaze traced her flushed skin, her trembling lower lip, the tears that clung to her lashes. Scared. Scared of me. Fuck. Aria. My wife. Mine to protect and honor. I needed to control myself better. I lowered my head and pressed it to her shoulder, breathing in her flowery scent. I exhaled, getting a grip on my anger. “God, Aria.”

I released her wrists and raised my head. Aria didn’t move, her arms still stretched out above her head submissively. The sight of her surrender left a fucking bitter taste in my mouth. I tried to touch her cheek, but she drew back. “Don’t touch me with her on you.”

She was right. She didn’t deserve this.

I got up. “I’m going to take a shower now, and we will both calm down, and then I want us to talk.”

Aria peered up at me. “What’s there left to talk about?”

“Us. This marriage.”

Slowly, she brought her arms down from where I’d pushed her into the bed. “You fucked a woman in front of my eyes today. Do you think there’s still a chance for this marriage?”

“I didn’t want you to see that,” I murmured. Fuck, the look in her eyes when she’d caught me would haunt me for a long time, which was ridiculous considering how much I’d done and seen.

“Why? So you could cheat in peace and quiet behind my back?”

Aria was right, but she’d never showed any hint that she cared about this marriage. “Let me take a shower. You were right. I shouldn’t disrespect you further by touching you like this.”

She didn’t say anything, only regarded me with those sad eyes that felt like a blade in my chest. I turned and headed for the bathroom. I wasn’t sure how long I stood under the stream of hot water until I felt like I could return to my wife, like I’d washed every trace of Grace’s perfume and touch away. I didn’t like the heavy feeling Aria’s tears had left in my body. It was a sensation I had no experience with and wasn’t keen on experiencing more often.

After I’d wrapped a towel around my waist, I returned to the bedroom where Aria sat against the headboard. Her hands were folded in her lap, those blonde tresses cascading down her elegant shoulders.

I felt like even more of an idiot for going to Grace when I had someone like Aria in my bed, but she still didn’t want me which became apparent once more when I dropped my towel and she quickly looked away as if she couldn’t bear the sight of me. I wasn’t vain like Matteo, far from it, but I knew how women checked me out. I worked hard for my body. After pulling on boxers, I sank down on the bed beside Aria. My gaze rested on her puffy eyes. It still caught me off-guard. “Did you cry?” The better question was why?

I’d have thought she would be happy if I left her alone and looked for another woman, like so many wives in our circles were.

She tilted her head toward me with a small frown. “Did you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Many women in our world are glad when their husbands use whores or take on a mistress. As you said, there are few marriages based on love. If a woman can’t stand her husband’s touch, she won’t mind him having affairs to satisfy his needs.”

Her mouth thinned. “His needs.”

“I’m not a good man, Aria. I never pretended otherwise. There are no good men in the mafia.” I’d been trying to be good to her even when I knew I’d fail eventually, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon.

Her gaze dipped to my chest, the spot over my heart. “I know, but you made me think that I could trust you and that you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I never hurt you.” Didn’t she realize how hard I was trying?

“It hurt seeing you with her,” Aria admitted in a whisper, looking away and swallowing once more as if she had to fight back more tears.

The urge to touch her was impossibly strong, but I held back. “Aria, I didn’t get the feeling that you wanted to sleep with me. I thought you’d be glad if I didn’t touch you.”

Aria shook her head. “When did I say that?”

“When I told you I wanted you, you pulled back. You looked disgusted.” Her expression had haunted me those last few days; how could she not remember?

“We were kissing, and you said you wanted to fuck me more than any other woman. Of course, I pulled back. I’m not some whore you can use when you feel like it. You’re never home. How am I supposed to get to know you?”

She knew everything about me that mattered, and the things she didn’t know were for the best.

Aria sighed. “What did you think? I’ve never done anything. You are the only man I’ve kissed. You knew that when we married. You and my father made sure it was the case, and despite that you expect me to go from never having kissed a guy to spreading my legs for you. I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to get to know you so I could relax; I wanted to kiss you and do other things firstbefore we slept together.”

Fuck, my mind went into overdrive. “Other things? What kinds of other things?”

Aria scowled and turned away. “This is useless.”

“No, don’t,” I murmured, touching her cheek and gently turning it back to me. Reluctantly, I dropped my hand. “I get it. For men, the first time isn’t a big deal, or at least it wasn’t for the men I know.” I hadn’t considered that Aria would need time to get used to a man’s touch, to my touch. I’d hoped she’d be eager and curious.

“When was your first time?” Aria asked immediately.

“I was thirteen and my father thought it was time for me to become a real man, since I’d already been initiated. ‘You can’t be a virgin and a killer.’ That’s what he said. He paid two prostitutes to spend a weekend with me and teach me everything they knew.” I still remembered the two days I’d spent in the Foxy.

Aria grimaced. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” I said. For me, it had been what was expected. “But I was a thirteen-year-old boy who wanted to prove himself. I was the youngest member in the New York Famiglia. I didn’t want the older men to think of me as a boy, and I felt like a big deal when the weekend was over. I doubt the prostitutes were overly impressed with my performance, but they pretended that I was the best lover they’d ever had. My father probably paid them extra for it. It took me a bit to figure out that not all women like it if you come all over their face when they give you a blow job.”

Disgust flashed across Aria’s face, and I couldn’t help but laugh, even when I hoped that she wouldn’t show the same reaction when I came in her mouth.

“Yeah…” I let a strand of her hair trail over my finger, enjoying the silky feel of it. Aria watched me with curiosity, but she didn’t pull back. “I was really worried tonight,” I admitted.

“Worried that I’d let someone have what’s yours,” Aria said. I didn’t miss the hint of vulnerability in her tone.

Had I been worried that Aria would seek out other men? Never. Aria wasn’t the type. “No, I knew, I know you are loyal. Things with the Bratva are escalating. If they got their hands on you…”

They’d hurt her. Me taking her on our wedding night, even against her will, would have been nothing compared to what they’d put her through. My stomach clenched in a mix of fury and worry.

“They didn’t.”

“They won’t,” I growled. I’d protect Aria no matter what it would take me. I trailed my fingers over Aria’s throat, but she leaned back.

“You’re going to make this really difficult, aren’t you?”

She gave me an indignant look.

“I’m sorry for what you saw today,” I said. Apologizing was something I didn’t do. Father had beaten it out of me, but here I was doing just that.

“But not sorry for what you did.”

“I rarely say I’m sorry. When I say it, I mean it.” And I did. Aria shouldn’t have seen what she did, and I shouldn’t have gone to Grace. If I didn’t want to be like my father, I couldn’t act like him, not even in that regard.

“Maybe you should say it more often.”

“There’s no way out of this marriage for you, nor for me. Do you really want to be miserable?”

After a moment of consideration that almost made me lose my patience, Aria gave a small shake of her head. “No. But I can’t pretend I never saw you with her.”

I could only imagine what kind of images played out before her inner eye. Aria had never seen anything like it, and then she had to see me fucking Grace. “I don’t expect you to, but let’s just pretend that our marriage begins today. A clean start.”

Longing flashed across her face but still she looked doubtful. “It’s not that easy. What about her? Tonight wasn’t the first time you were with her. Do you love her?” She looked so goddamn vulnerable.

“Love? No. I don’t have feelings for Grace.” I’d never had feelings for any of the women in my life, or anyone really, except for Matteo perhaps.

“Then why do you keep seeing her? The truth.”

I hoped she could take the truth. “Because she knows how to suck a cock and because she’s a good fuck. Truthful enough?”

Aria’s cheeks turned red, and again I had to touch the heated skin, needed to feel her. “I love how you blush whenever I say something dirty. I can’t wait to see your blush when I do something dirty to you.”

“If you really want to make this marriage work, if you ever want the chance to do something dirty to me, then you’ll have to stop seeing other women. Maybe other wives don’t care, but I won’t have you touching me as long as there’s anyone else.”

She was right, and it wasn’t as if any woman could hold my interest. I had only thought about Aria since I’d seen her photo in the newspaper, even when I was with Grace. “I promise. I’ll touch only you from now on.”

Aria regarded me with narrowed eyes. “Grace won’t like it.”

Grace definitely wouldn’t. “Who gives a fuck what she thinks?”

“Won’t her father give you trouble?”

“We pay for his campaigns, and he has a son following in his footsteps who needs our money soon as well. What does he care about a daughter who isn’t good for anything but shopping and eventually marrying a rich man?”

“She probably hoped you’d be that man.”

Of course she did. “We don’t marry outsiders. Never. She knew that, and it wasn’t like she was the only woman I fucked.”

Aria blinked, obviously stunned by my admittance. “You said it yourself. You have your needs. So how can you tell me you won’t cheat on me again soon if you get tired of waiting for me to sleep with you?”

“Do you intend to make me wait long?” I asked.

“I think we have very different concepts of the words ‘long wait.’”

“I’m not a patient man. If long means a year…” These last few days were already hell. The idea of sleeping in a bed with Aria for months without sleeping with her…That wasn’t something I wanted to consider.

Aria glared.

“What do you want me to say, Aria? I kill and blackmail and torture people. I’m the boss of men who do the same when I order them to, and soon I’ll be the Capo dei Capi, the leader of the most powerful crime organization on the East Coast, and probably the US. You thought I’d take you against your will on our wedding night, and now you’re angry because I don’t want to wait months to sleep with you?”

Resignation crossed Aria’s face as she closed her eyes and scooted down on the bed. “I’m tired. It’s late.”

I leaned toward her and touched her waist lightly. “No. I want to understand. I’m your husband. You aren’t like other girls who can choose the man they’re going to lose it to. Are you scared that I’m going to be rough with you because of what you saw today?”

Aria gave the smallest shiver, confirming my suspicion, but by God, she didn’t need to be scared. “I won’t be. I told you I want you to writhe beneath me in pleasure, and while that probably won’t happen the first time I take you, I’ll make you come as often as you want with my tongue and my fingers until you can come when I’m inside you. I don’t mind going slow, but what do you want to wait for?”

Aria’s eyes fluttered open and the look in them sucked the breath cleanly out of my lungs. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t like it. This time, I managed not to run my fingers through the golden halo on the pillow.

“I won’t make you wait for months,” Aria whispered, sounding exhausted. She closed her eyes again, looking like a sleeping queen as she did. I swallowed, unsure what to do to make her happy in this marriage, unsure if I should try.

I lay down beside her, listening to her breathing that had already evened out in sleep.

I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep anytime soon.