Luca Vitiello by Cora Reilly

CHAPTER 3

LUCA, 20 YEARS OLD

The second we entered the elevator, the sound of music and laughter drifted down to us.

“Seems like this party might be worth our time,” Matteo said, checking his looks in the reflection of the doors. Except for our general facial features, we didn’t look alike. I was still the spitting image of my father, same cold gray eyes, same black hair, but I’d never wear it in that disgusting slicked-back way he did.

“That would be a plus, but the main reason we’re here is for connections.”

The apartment belonged to Senator Parker who was away on business with his wife. His son, Michael, used the chance to throw a party, inviting pretty much everyone who mattered in New York.

Michael waited in the open door when Matteo and I stepped out into the hallway. It was the first time I’d seen Parker Junior without a suit, since he was trying to follow in his father’s footsteps. He waved at us with a crooked smile, already drunk.

I nodded at him. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to hug me like so many people tended to do with everyone, but then he thought better of it. Good for him. “So glad you could make it,” he slurred. “Grab a drink. I booked a few bartenders who can prepare any cocktail you want.”

The penthouse was packed with guests and the beat throbbed in my temples. Matteo and I wouldn’t drink much, if anything. We’d learned from our mistakes of the past, even if the present crowd didn’t pose a danger. Most of them would piss their pants if they knew half the things Matteo and I had done since we’d become Made Men. As it was, they only knew rumors. Officially, we were the heirs of businessman, real estate mogul, and club owner, Salvatore Vitiello.

The moment we entered, people began to whisper. It was always the same. Michael pointed at the bar and buffet, but I barely listened. My eyes were drawn to the dance floor, which had been set up in the center of the large open space that must have been the living room before the furniture had been removed for the party. Several girls who had been dancing with sons of other politicians were throwing glances our way.

Matteo and I exchanged a look. The thrill-seekers were about to descend on us. These kinds of girls, from good families, pampered, and entirely boring, were our main prey. They wouldn’t end up trying to kill us.

One of the girls, a tall blonde sex bomb with fake tits and an outfit that clung to her body like a second skin, began eye-fucking me immediately. She left her dance partner standing dumbfounded on the dance floor and shimmied over to me on high heels.

Michael groaned. I glanced his way.

“That’s my younger sister, Grace.”

I frowned. This could complicate my plans. Michael looked at my face, then at Grace. “I don’t care if you make a move on her. She does what she wants anyway. She’s always on the lookout for her next conquest, but lots of wieners have been dipped into the mustard jar, if you catch my drift.”

My eyebrows rose. I didn’t care if Grace had fucked half of New York’s male population. She was for fucking and sucking, not anything else. But if I had a sister, I would definitely mind if she acted like that, unlike Michael.

Michael shook his head. “I’m off. I don’t want to witness that.”

He moved to the bar and Matteo followed him, but not before he sent me a wink.

Grace danced closer and closer, then touched my chest. “I hear you’re involved in organized crime,” she crooned into my ear. Her hand slipped lower, her eyes eager and flirting. She definitely went for it.

If she reached around, she’d feel the gun in the holster at my lower back hidden under my t-shirt. “Is that what you hear?” I asked with the smile that got girls like her going. Dark enough to call to her bored-as-fuck-pampered-rich-girl persona but nowhere near my true dark side which would scare her away.

She shivered against me. “Is it true?”

“What do you think?” I growled, pulling her against me, letting some of my harshness show. Her lips parted, her expression a mix of fear and lust.

She pressed her mouth to my ear. “I think I want to be fucked.”

“Good,” I said darkly, “because I’m going to fuck you now. Lead the way.”

With an excited smile, she grabbed my hand and pulled me along. Matteo grinned at me but, a second later, he was back to shoving his tongue down a brunette’s throat.

Grace and I entered what I assumed was her bedroom. I pushed her toward her vanity and hoisted her up, knocking half of her lipsticks off in the process. She pursed her lips. “You’re making a mess.”

I gave her a dark smile. “Do I look like I give a fuck? The rest of your fucking lipsticks will fall off when I fuck you.”

Her lips parted. She was used to weak-ass rich boys who’d never swung a fist in their life. “Then you’ll have to pick them up later.”

Was she testing me? Trying to see if I was someone who could be pushed around like her preppy boyfriends of the past?

Tugging her skirt down, I checked the unblemished skin of her hipbones. It was more habit than necessity. Definitely not a Bratva assassin.

“I won’t do a fucking thing, Grace, got it?” I growled as I slid my hand under her skirt then pushed her thong aside, finding her wet. “People do what I tell them, not the other way around. New York is my fucking city,” I added as I pushed two fingers into her. Her eyes flashed with fascination.

She was fascinated by the danger, even when she didn’t know the first thing about it.

I finger-fucked her hard. “Choke me,” she whispered.

One of those.

I closed my fingers around her throat and pressed her down on the vanity, shoving the rest of her makeup to the floor. She shuddered with pleasure. I hardly put any pressure behind my grip; if she knew that this was how I’d killed a man, if she knew how many worse things I’d done with these hands, she wouldn’t have asked me to do this, but for her this was a game, a thrilling kink. It was the same with all the girls. I was their darkest fantasy come true.

She didn’t understand that I didn’t play a dark role for her, that this wasn’t my dark side, not even close, but the only side I was allowed to show in public.

Matteo and I had gotten less than two hours of sleep when our father rang us out of bed, ordering us to come over for breakfast. But first, he wanted a word alone with me. Never a good thing.

“What do you think he wants?” Matteo asked as we headed toward Father’s office.

“Who knows?”

I knocked.

“Come in,” Father said after he’d made me wait for almost five minutes.

“Good luck,” Matteo said with a twisted grin. I ignored him and headed into the room. I hated that I had to come running whenever he called me. He was the only person who could order me around, and he fucking enjoyed it. He sat behind his desk with that narcissistic smile I loathed more than anything. “You called for me, Father,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t give a damn.

His smile widened. “We found you a wife, Luca.”

I raised one eyebrow. I knew he and the Chicago Outfit had been discussing a possible union for months, but Father had never been very forthcoming with information. He loved having that power over me. “From the Outfit?”

“Of course,” he said, tapping his fingers against the desk and watching me. He wanted me to ask him who she was, wanted to draw this out, wanted to see me squirm. Screw him. I pushed my hands into my pockets, meeting his gaze straight on.

His expression darkened. “She’s the most beautiful woman the Outfit has to offer. A real stunner. Golden hair, blue eyes, pale skin. An angel come down to earth, as Fiore put it.” I’d fucked so many beautiful women. Only last night I’d fucked Grace on every surface in her room. Did he really think I’d be awestruck because he’d found me a pretty wife? If it were up to me, I wouldn’t marry anytime soon.

“I hope you’ll enjoy breaking her wings,” Father added.

I waited for the ‘but’. Father looked too pleased with himself, as if he were holding something back that he knew I would hate.

“Maybe you have heard of her. It’s Aria Scuderi. She’s the daughter of the Consigliere and she turned fifteen a few months ago.”

I wasn’t quick enough to hide my shock. Fifteen? Was he fucking kidding me? “I thought they wanted the wedding to take place soon,” I said carefully.

Father leaned back, his eyes looking for a flicker of weakness. “They do. We all do.”

“I won’t marry a fucking child,” I growled, done with playing nice. I was sick of his games.

“You will marry her, and you will fuck her, Luca.”

I exhaled before I said or did something that I’d regret later. “Do you really think our men will look up to me if I act like a fucking pedophile?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. They look up to us because they fear us. And Aria isn’t that young. She’s old enough to spread her legs and have you fuck her.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d considered putting a bullet in his head. He was my father, but he was also a sadistic bastard I hated more than anything else in the world. “What does the girl say to your plan?”

Father barked a laugh. “She doesn’t know yet, and it’s not like her feelings are important. She’ll do what she’s told, and so should you.”

“Her father doesn’t mind giving his daughter to me before she’s of age?”

“He doesn’t.”

What kind of bastard was Scuderi? I could see how much Father enjoyed my fury.

“But Dante Cavallaro was averse to the idea and suggested to postpone the wedding.”

I nodded. At least, one person wasn’t out of their fucking mind.

“Of course, we haven’t decided yet what to do. I’ll let you know once the decision is made. I’ll be in the dining room in fifteen minutes. Tell Nina I want a five-minute egg. Not a second longer.”

I left, knowing I was dismissed. Matteo leaned against the wall across from Father’s office. I strode past him, trying to get a handle on the rage burning through my body. I wanted to kill someone, preferably our father. I went straight toward the bar area in the living room of the house.

“What did our sadist of a father do now?” Matteo asked as he fell into step beside me.

I glared. “He wants me to marry a fucking child.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I thought he was trying to set you up with the most beautiful woman of the fucking Outfit,” Matteo said mockingly.

“They must be out of pretty woman over there, because they want me to marry Aria Scuderi, who’s fucking fifteen.”

Matteo whistled. “Holy shit. Have they lost their fucking mind? What did the poor girl do to deserve such a fate?”

I wasn’t in the mood for his jokes. I wanted to hit something—hard. “She’s the oldest daughter of the Consigliere, and she looks like an angel come down to earth if you believe Fiore Cavallaro.”

“So they marry her off to the devil. A match made in hell.”

“You’re starting to piss me off, Matteo.” I reached over the counter of the bar and grasped the most expensive whiskey bottle, which our father kept for special occasions. I brought it to my lips and took a deep swig.

Matteo snatched the bottle out of my hand and tipped it back, downing a considerable amount of the amber liquid before sliding it back over to me. We went back and forth like that for a while before Matteo spoke again. “Are they really going to make you marry that girl? I mean, I’m all for the kinky stuff, but fucking a fifteen-year old is too freaky even for me.”

“Her asshole of a father would hand her over to me tomorrow. That bastard doesn’t seem to care.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I told Father I wouldn’t marry a child.”

“And he told you to grow a pair and to do what your Capo tells you.”

“He can’t see why the girl needs to be older for the wedding. All she has to do is spread her legs for me.”

Matteo narrowed his eyes in that fucking annoying way he had when he was trying to figure something out. “And would you?”

“Would I what?” I knew what he meant, but it annoyed the living hell out of me that he had to ask. I expected that question from everyone else, but not him. He knew even I had certain lines I wasn’t willing to cross. Yet. Life could be a bitch, especially if you were in the mob, so I’d learned that ‘never say never’ was a motto to live by.

“Would you fuck her?”

“I’m a killer, not a pedophile, you stupid asshole.”

“Spoken like a true philanthropist.”

“Fuck you, and stop reading the fucking dictionary.”

Matteo grinned and I shook my head with a smirk. That fucker knew how to make me feel better.

Matteo had barely stopped talking since we’d gotten off the plane, and he obviously had no intention of doing so now that we were in the Scuderi mansion. I was seconds away from punching him in the throat. “Stop sulking, Luca. You should be happy. You’ll meet your fiancée today. Aren’t you curious how she looks? She could be butt-ugly.”

She wasn’t. Father wouldn’t let the Outfit cheat us like that. But I hadn’t found a photo of her on the internet. Scuderi seemed to keep his family out of the public eye.

“I’m surprised the maid didn’t follow us. It seems like a risk to let potential enemies walk through the house without supervision. Makes me wonder if this is a trap,” Cesare said as he kept looking over his shoulder.

“It’s a power play. Scuderi wants to show us that he isn’t worried about our presence,” I said as we headed in the direction the maid had pointed us toward.

I could hear people running our way. My hand went to my gun. Cesare and Matteo did the same as we turned the corner. When I saw what caused the commotion, I relaxed. Children were chasing each other, hurtling straight toward us. The boy managed to stop, but a young girl rushed toward me, her arms flailing, and crashed into my body. My hands shot out to catch her. She stared up at me with wide eyes as I held her by the shoulders.

“Liliana,” one of the other girls shrieked. My eyes snapped toward her, then her golden blond hair, and I knew who she was. Aria Scuderi, my future wife. She was the oldest of the bunch, but damn it, she looked so fucking young. I mean, it wasn’t as if I’d expected a grown woman, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t be so fucking obvious that she was only fifteen. When I was that age, I already felt and acted like a man. I wasn’t sure what I’d have done if Cavallaro and my father hadn’t agreed to wait until she was eighteen.

She was beautiful in a childish way, but there was the promise of breathtaking beauty under her young features. She was small but, with my size, most women were. In a few years when she’d become my wife, she’d be stunning. She’d better learn to hide her emotions better until then. She looked fucking terrified. I was used to people giving me that kind of look, but with women I preferred admiration and lust to terror any day.

“Liliana, come here,” she said. It was pretty obvious that she was trying to look strong and grown-up. She would have been more convincing if her voice wasn’t shaking and if there wasn’t that petrified glint in her eyes. I loosened my grip on her sister, who bolted toward Aria as if the devil were at her heels. Had these girls never met other men? Scuderi probably kept them in a golden cage, which suited me just well.

“That’s Luca Vitiello!” a redhead blurted and actually wrinkled her fucking nose at me. I wasn’t used to so much rudeness. People knew better than to disrespect me. Not Scuderi’s brats, however.

There was a hiss and the boy shot in my direction and actually attacked me. “Leave Aria alone! You don’t get her!”

Cesare made a move to interject as if I needed help against a midget.

“No, Cesare.” I stared down at the boy. His fervor was almost admirable if it wasn’t so futile. I caught his hands.

Aria crept toward me as if she thought I might snap her brother’s neck and then her own. Fuck, what had her family told her about me? They should have lied. I knew I had a reputation and I was fucking proud of it, but Aria didn’t need to know about it—yet.

“What a warm welcome we get. That’s the infamous hospitality of the Outfit,” Matteo said, as usual letting his fat mouth run free.

“Matteo,” I warned before he said more. These were children, even my future wife, and they didn’t need to hear his colorful vocabulary.

The midget was squirming in my grip, snapping and growling like a wild dog.

“Fabiano,” Aria said, her eyes darting up to me for a millisecond before she grabbed her brother’s arm. “That’s enough. It’s not how we treat guests.”

Despite her breakable appearance, Aria seemed to hold some power over her siblings. Her brother stopped struggling and looked at her as if she were the center of his world. “He’s not a guest. He wants to steal you away, Aria.”

Sorry, buddy, nothing about this fucking arrangement was my idea. And yet I had to admit that, after having seen Aria, I wouldn’t let her slip out of my grip for anything in the world. She was mine now. I regarded her as she smiled down at her brother with so much kindness, stunning me.

Matteo chuckled. “This is too good. I’m glad Father convinced me to come.”

“Ordered you.” Our father never tried to convince anyone. He ordered, bribed or blackmailed.

Aria had a hard time meeting my gaze; she was obviously embarrassed by my attention. A deep flush had spread on her cheeks. I released her brother, and she clutched him against her body protectively. She was so shy and terrified that I wondered if she’d dare to oppose me if I actually made a move toward her brother. Not that I’d ever do that. There was no honor in attacking children and women.

“I’m sorry,” Aria said feebly. “My brother didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

“I did!” the boy shouted. Aria’s hand shot out and clamped his mouth shut. I almost laughed. It had been a while since a woman had made me want to laugh, even by accident.

“Don’t apologize,” the redheaded girl hissed. “It’s not our fault that he and his bodyguards take up so much room in the corridor. At least, Fabiano speaks the truth. Everyone else thinks they need to blow sugar up his ass because he’s going to be

Capo—”

I sent Matteo a look. That girl had the same bad temper as him.

After more bickering, Aria finally got her siblings to leave. I was glad to see them gone. They grated on my nerves. It was no surprise that Scuderi wanted to marry his daughters off as quickly as possible.

Aria squirmed when she looked at me. “I apologize for my sisters and brother. They are—”

“Protective of you,” I helped her out. “This is my brother, Matteo.”

Aria barely glanced his way, but she wasn’t really meeting my eyes, either.

I nodded to my side. “And this is my right hand, Cesare.”

She blinked. She looked like she would bolt if I took a step in her direction. “I should go to my siblings.” She whirled around and hurried away until her blond head disappeared from view.

“You’ve still got it, Luca. Terrifying girls left and right with your rough charm,” Matteo said.

“Let’s get going. Scuderi will be wondering what’s taking us so long.” Scuderi was the last person I wanted to meet, unless said meeting involved knives and guns and a bloodbath. I hated him without ever having met him. What kind of father married a girl like Aria off to a guy like me? She looked like an angel, and she was as shy and innocent as one, and I had absolutely no illusions what I was: a cold bastard on the best of days, and a monster the rest of the time. At least, she had three more years before I got the chance to destroy her life with my darkness.

There wasn’t enough booze in the world to make Scuderi and Fiore Cavallaro’s presence more bearable. I wanted nothing more than to slice their throats open and watch them bleed to death. Matteo shot me a sideways glance, probably knowing exactly what I was thinking. He wouldn’t hesitate a second if I asked him to pull his knives. Matteo was always ready to stick his knife into the next person who annoyed him.

“She’s a real beauty, Luca,” Scuderi said proudly. “You won’t regret your choice.”

There hadn’t really been a choice on my part, but I kept the words to myself. There was no use in starting an argument, especially with Father watching me like a hawk.

“She’s completely pure. She’s never allowed to go anywhere without her bodyguards. She’s only yours.”

I forced a smile. Not that I didn’t appreciate it. The idea that someone might touch Aria made my blood throb furiously in my veins. I felt fucking possessive of her. I’d never cared if the girls I’d had affairs with fucked other men, but with Aria I’d kill anyone who dared to look at her the wrong way.

“There’s nothing better than breaking them in,” Aria’s cousin Raffaele said. He was a head smaller than me. If tonight ended in a bloodbath, he’d be the one I’d kill last, so I could take my time with him. Let’s see if he’d still manage that ugly grin with my knife sticking out of his eye socket. Dante sent his soldier a hard look and Raffaele quickly glanced back down to his drink. It was the first time Dante had shown any kind of emotional reaction at all. His wife had died not too long ago.

Fiore was officially still the Boss of the Outfit, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Dante was the man who ran the show.

Someone knocked.

When the door opened and Aria slipped in, keeping her back to us, I stiffened. She didn’t look like the girl I’d seen yesterday. She was wearing a skimpy dress, revealing long, lean legs, creamy skin, and a nice butt. Damn it. When she finally turned, I found that the front was just as nice to look at. Then my eyes traveled farther up. Aria kept her head down, her eyes cast on the ground, and I could see her shivering in fear and discomfort. Something protective and furious reared its head in my chest, startling me. She was mine. How could her mother have let her walk around in this outfit? I’d bet my left ball that Aria hadn’t had a say in choosing that fucking joke of a dress. I’d fucked girls with skimpier dresses but this was my future wife, and she was only fifteen. Her parents should protect her, not treat her like this. She finally risked a peek up and met my gaze. For fuck’s sake, she looked like she wanted to cry. If I ever got the chance, I’d kill Scuderi and I’d fucking enjoy it. I put my glass down before I could fling it at the wall.

Aria’s eyes flitted around nervously. The other men in the room watched her with the necessary respect, but that fucker Raffaele was undressing her with his fucking eyes. If this were New York, I’d relieve him of the burden of ever seeing anything again. And maybe I’d do it anyway if he didn’t stop the leering soon.

Oblivious to Raffaele’s disrespect, Scuderi ushered Aria toward me. He looked at me as if he expected my jaw to drop to the floor because of Aria. She was gorgeous, and in three years I might appreciate her being dressed like this, but now it only pissed me off that Scuderi tried to make Aria look like some fucking sexbomb when she obviously hated it.

“This is my daughter, Aria,” Scuderi said with an eager look like a German shepherd waiting for his master to throw a stick.

Fiore gave me a self-satisfied grin. “I didn’t promise too much, did I?”

Fuck you. “You didn’t.”

Aria’s little brother snuck up on her and slipped his hand into hers. My eyes went to her legs for a moment but I tore them away.

“Maybe the future bride and husband want to be alone for a few minutes?” Father said with a look I knew only too well. He probably thought he was doing me a fucking favor. I didn’t miss Aria’s panicked expression, or the way she practically begged her father with her eyes to forbid it.

Of course Scuderi didn’t. He’d probably let me manhandle her right in front of him as long as I didn’t steal her virginity before the wedding.

“Should I stay?” her bodyguard asked.

Relief flashed across Aria’s face. I had no illusions as to what I was, but in this room I was the one Aria had to fear the least.

“Give them a few minutes alone,” Scuderi said, and Aria froze. What did she think I was going to do to her? Ravish her on the sofa? Father winked at me. He obviously thought I was going to grope at my fifteen-year-old fiancée. He probably would have. Everyone started to leave until only the little boy was left, clinging to his sister protectively. I had to give it to the midget, he was the only one from the Outfit with an ounce of courage.

“Fabiano. Get out of there now,” Scuderi snapped, and the boy let go of Aria and sent me a scathing look before he left. I liked that insolent brat.

The door fell shut and Aria and I were alone. She peered up at me through her long lashes, biting her lip. Did she have to look so fucking terrified? I knew how I appeared to others, and for a petite girl like her, I probably looked like a menacing giant about to crush her, but I had absolutely no intention of hurting her, much less feel her up no matter how delicious she looked. I wasn’t that depraved. I’d never forced myself on a woman, and Aria was only a girl. My fiancée. Mine. Mine to protect.

To distract her from her obvious terror, I asked, “Did you choose the dress?”

She jerked, her eyes growing wide. Huge blue eyes, so full of innocence I felt like they could wash even my sins away. And that golden hair…fuck me, I wanted to touch it to find out if it was as silky as it looked.

“No. My father did,” she said in that soft, genteel voice.

Of course he did. I could see her shivering from cold and fear. I decided to cut this ridiculous meeting short before Aria passed out on me, and I reached for the ring I’d bought for her a couple of days ago. My little fiancée flinched, and my mood dropped even further. I showed her the velvet box, hoping it would set her at ease, but she only stared. I wanted to shake some sense into her but that would only have proven her fears right. I shoved the box at her and she finally reached for it. When her fingers brushed mine, she pulled away with a gasp. I had to stifle my annoyance—not at her, but at her parents, Cavallaro, and my father who’d brought this mess down upon us. She was too young. I could only hope she’d gain some confidence in the next three years. I didn’t want a wife who cowered in front of me.

“Thank you,” she said after she’d checked out the ring. Her eyes met mine. I held out my arm. She took it with barely any hesitation and I led her toward the living room to the people who’d betrayed her.

The moment I released her, she rushed off to her sisters and mother as if they could protect her from what was to come.

I went over to the men.

“And?” Father asked smugly.

I wasn’t sure what he expected. A lewd comment about how I’d used my chance alone with Aria?

Matteo shot me a sideways glance.

“Aria accepted the ring,” I said matter-of-factly.

Scuderi’s face fell. “As she should. My daughter was brought up to be obedient. You’ll see.”

“Luca will make her obey him. He can bring the strongest men to their knees. A weak woman will bow to his will,” Father said snidely.

Dinner was served that moment and saved us from a fight. It was a pity. I would have enjoyed it thoroughly.

I sat down beside Scuderi as tradition dictated. Matteo sat across from me, a flicker of boredom on his face. A bored Matteo was always a ticking bomb.

Fiore Cavallaro raised his glass. The way his eyes went out of focus, I’d say he should stop drinking. Old bastard. I would have preferred dealing with his son, the cold fish Dante, but as long as his father was still in command, I’d have to live with the demented old fool. “To a long and successful partnership.”

I lifted my glass and downed the red wine. My eyes found Aria again. She was sitting at the other end of the table with the other women. She peered down at her ring as if it were something terrifying. Of course, it was. It bound her to me. It marked her as mine. When she looked up, our eyes met. She flushed and quickly turned away, red traveling up her delicate throat.

Matteo kicked me under the table, smirking. “Already lusting after your child bride?”

“I can wait,” I said. “It’s not like I can’t keep myself entertained.” But from this day, she was mine.

After dinner, we moved to the lounge to drink and smoke. Rocco Scuderi and Fiore Cavallaro were insufferable show-offs, and Father tried to overshadow them with his own bragging. I wanted to stuff my ears with hot wax to be spared their bullshit talk. Aria better be worth it, because peace sounded less enticing with every fucking second I had to spend with the Outfit bastards.

I was on my fourth glass of scotch when everyone had finally left the lounge except for Matteo, Romero and Cesare. Father had left to meet with a high class prostitute from the Outfit’s best whorehouse, but I had no intention of risking a repeat performance of the Bratva whore incident.

I allowed myself to relax against the marble ledge of the fireplace. My eyes were heavy from being alert all day, and I couldn’t risk letting my guard down as long as we were in Chicago. Matteo was sprawled out on an armchair as if he owned the place. His grin didn’t bode well.

“It could have been worse,” Matteo said, grinning even wider. “She could have been ugly. But, holy fuck, your little fiancée is an apparition. That dress. That body. That hair and face.” Matteo whistled.

Anger surged through me. Matteo and I often talked about women like that, and even with less favorable words, but this was different.

“She’s a child,” I said dismissively, hiding my annoyance. Matteo would only irk me further if I gave him an opening.

“She didn’t look like a child to me,” he said, then clucked his tongue. He nudged Cesare. “What do you say? Is Luca blind?”

Cesare shrugged with a careful glance in my direction. “I didn’t look at her closely.”

“What about you, Romero? You got functioning eyes in your head?”

Romero looked up, then quickly looked back down to his drink. I stifled a smirk.

Matteo threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck, Luca, did you tell your men you’d cut their dicks off if they looked at that girl? You aren’t even married to her.”

“She’s mine,” I said quietly. I glared at Matteo. My men respected me, but Matteo was a losing battle. Not that I had to worry. He’d never lay hand on my woman.

Matteo shook his head. “For the next three years, you’ll be in New York and she will be here. You can’t always keep an eye on her, or do you intend to threaten every man in the Outfit? You can’t cut off all of their dicks. Maybe Scuderi knows of a few eunuchs who can keep watch over her.”

“I’ll do what I have to,” I said, swirling the drink in my glass. I had considered what Matteo had said before, and it didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t like the idea of being so far from Aria. Three years were a long time. She was beautiful and vulnerable, a dangerous combination in our world.

“Cesare, find the two idiots who are supposed to guard Aria,” I ordered.

Cesare left immediately and returned ten minutes later with Umberto and Raffaele. Scuderi was a step behind them, looking pissed.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked.

“I want to have a word with the men you chose to protect what’s mine.”

“They are good soldiers, both of them. Raffaele is Aria’s cousin, and Umberto has worked for me for almost two decades.”

I mustered them both. “I’d like to decide for myself if I trust them.” I stepped up to Umberto. He was almost a head smaller than me. “I hear you’re good with the knife.”

“The best,” Scuderi interjected. I wanted to silence him once and for all.

“Not as good as your brother, as rumor has it,” Umberto said with a nod toward Matteo, who flashed him his shark grin. “But better than any other man in our territory,” Umberto admitted eventually.

Matteo was the best with a knife. “Are you married?” I asked next. Not that marriage had ever stopped a man from having another woman.

Umberto nodded. “For twenty-one years.”

“That’s a long time,” Matteo said. “Aria must look awfully delicious in comparison to your old wife.”

I shot Matteo a look. Couldn’t he keep his mouth shut for a second?

Umberto’s hand twitched an inch toward the holster around his waist. My own hand was already resting on my gun. I met Umberto’s gaze. He cleared his throat. “I’ve known Aria since her birth. She is a child.”

He said it with a hint of reproach. If he thought that would make me feel guilty or anything close to it, he was a fool. “She won’t be a child for much longer,” I said.

“She will always be a child in my eyes. And I’m faithful to my wife.” Umberto glared at Matteo. “If you insult my wife again, I’ll ask your father for permission to challenge you in a knife fight to defend her honor, and I’ll kill you.”

That would make Matteo’s day. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a bloody knife fight, probably not even a pussy. “You could try,” Matteo said, baring his teeth, “but you would not succeed.”

Umberto wasn’t a threat. Neither for Matteo, nor for Aria. I could tell he was protective of her in a fatherly way. “I think you’re a good choice, Umberto.”

I turned to Raffaele. If we’d been in New York, I’d have already put a bullet in his head. Perhaps he thought I hadn’t seen the looks he’d given Aria when he thought nobody was paying attention. I stepped right in front of him. He craned his neck to meet my gaze. He tried to look cool. He wasn’t fooling me. There was fear. Good.

“He’s family. Are you honestly going to accuse him of having an interest in my daughter?” Scuderi butted in from the side.

“I saw how you looked at Aria,” I said to Raffaele. His eyes flickered nervously.

“Like a juicy peach you wanted to pluck,” Matteo threw in, enjoying this entirely too much.

Raffaele’s eyes darted to Scuderi like the spineless wimp he was. I knew guys like him. They got off on preying on the weak, especially women, because it was the only way they could feel strong.

“Don’t deny it. I know want when I see it. And you want Aria,” I growled. Raffaele didn’t deny it. “If I find out you’re looking at her like that again…If I find out you’re in a room alone with her…If I find out you touch as much as her hand, I will kill you.”

Raffaele flushed red. “You aren’t a member of the Outfit. Nobody would tell you anything even if I raped her. I could break her in for you. Maybe I’ll even film it for you.”

I grabbed the bastard and threw him to the ground. His face hit the floor hard and I dug my knee into his back. I wanted to break his spine in two and rip off his fucking balls. Then he’d never even think about using the words ‘rape’ and ‘Aria’ in the same sentence again.

Raffaele struggled and cursed. He was like a bothersome fly: weak and disgusting. Worth less than the dirt on my shoes. That he even dared think about touching Aria, about breaking her in…I grabbed his wrist and pulled out my knife.

I should cut off his balls and dick. That was what he deserved. But this wasn’t my territory. Even though it pissed me off, I looked at Scuderi for permission.

Scuderi nodded. I brought my knife down on Raffaele’s pinky, cutting through bone and flesh and relishing in his pussy screams.

A female cry echoed through the walls.

I let go of Raffaele and stood. He cradled his hand like a baby, a blubbering mess. Disgusting. Romero and Cesare had drawn their weapons.

Scuderi went to open a secret door, revealing the redheaded sister and Aria.

“Of course,” Scuderi hissed. “I should have known it was you causing trouble again.” He wrenched the redhead away from Aria and into the lounge, raised his hand, and slapped her hard across the face. My fingers on the knife tightened.

And then the fucker stepped toward Aria, raising his arm again. Fury burned through me. Mine.

I caught his wrist, stopping him. It took all my willpower not to ram the bloody knife into his stomach and let him bleed out like a pig.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Umberto drawing his knife and Scuderi reaching for his gun. Matteo, Romero, and Cesare had drawn their own guns.

I hated the words I had to speak next. “I didn’t mean disrespect, but Aria is no longer your responsibility. You lost your right to punish her when you made her my fiancée. She’s mine to deal with now.”

Scuderi glanced at the ring on Aria’s finger, marking her as mine. He gave a nod and I released him.

“That’s true.” He stepped back from me and gestured at Aria. “Then would you like the honor of beating some sense into her?”

I turned my eyes on Aria. She was pale. Her fearful eyes darted to the knife in my blood-covered hand, then back up to my face. She froze. The idea of raising my hand against her was ludicrous. What kind of man hit a woman? And Aria? No, the mere idea set my teeth on edge. She weighed less than half of me. She was innocent and vulnerable. “She didn’t disobey me.”

Scuderi looked fucking unhappy. As if I gave a fuck. “You’re right, but as I see it, Aria will be living under my roof until the wedding, and since honor forbids me to raise my hand against her, I’ll have to find another way to make her obey me.” He hit Aria’s sister a second time, and I had half a mind to intervene again, but that was beyond my control.

“For every one of your wrongdoings, Aria, your sister will accept the punishment in your stead,” Scuderi said. Aria looked as if she’d rather have him hit her than her sister. She was way too innocent and gentle for someone like me.

Scuderi turned to the bodyguard. “Umberto, take Gianna and Aria to their rooms and make sure they stay there.” Umberto sheathed his knife and led them out. Aria avoided looking at me as she helped her sister.

Raffaele’s whimper drew my attention back to him. He was still clutching his hand, crying like the fucking wimp he was. Matteo held out a tissue. I took it and cleaned my hand and knife roughly. I’d need water and soap to get rid of it completely.

“I trust you’ll keep Aria safe from male attention,” I said coldly, fixing Scuderi with a hard look. “I don’t want him anywhere near her. If I hear that someone as much as looks at her the wrong way, nothing will stop me from dragging Chicago into the bloodiest war you can imagine. I don’t share what’s mine, and Aria is mine. Only mine. She’s under my protection from this day on.”

Scuderi’s mouth thinned, but Fiore would lose his shit if peace broke because Scuderi couldn’t protect his own daughter. “Don’t worry. She will be protected. Like I said, she attends a Catholic school for girls and is never alone with men.”

I knelt beside Raffaele and he shied back, terror flashing in his eyes. I leaned even closer. “This was nothing,” I growled. “This pain is a fucking joke compared to the kind of agony you’ll be in if you go near Aria ever again. If you ever touch as much as a hair on her body,” my voice turned even deadlier, shaking with the force of my rage, “a single fucking hair, I’ll shove my knife up your ass and fuck you with it slowly until you bleed out through your asshole. Got it?”

He gave a jerky nod.

“I want to hear it.”

“I won’t touch her,” he pressed out, looking like he was going to puke onto my shoes at any moment.

I stood and stepped back, my lip curling in disgust at the coward in front of me. “We’re done here,” I said.

“I’ll see you out,” Scuderi said in a clipped voice.

Romero, Cesare, Matteo and I followed him. We didn’t shake hands as we parted. Those kinds of fake pleasantries could wait until my wedding.

After returning to our hotel, we gathered in the bar for another drink. Romero was the only one who barely touched his, always dutiful. I regarded him. I knew him since we were kids. He was close to Matteo’s age, and they’d gone to school together. He was a good soldier and a trustworthy man.

Noticing my attention, he frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“What do you think of Aria?”

Cesare and Matteo both fell silent.

Romero set down his glass, his body tightening. “She’s going to be your wife.”

“I don’t want you to state the obvious. I want to hear your impression of her.”

“She’s shy and obedient. Well behaved. I don’t think she’ll cause trouble in the next three years.” His words had been chosen carefully.

“She’s beautiful now. She’ll be out-of-this-world stunning in three years. I need someone to be her bodyguard, someone I can trust not to touch what’s not his or anyone else’s.”

Romero’s eyes widened, finally catching up. Matteo and Cesare looked surprised as well. “Luca,” he said quietly, “if you choose me to guard Aria, I swear she’ll be safe. And I won’t ever even think about her in an inappropriate way.”

Matteo snorted. “Don’t swear on it. I have a feeling it’ll be difficult not to have inappropriate thoughts about Aria.”

I fixed Romero with a hard look. “You know I trust you, and you’re one of my best soldiers, but what I just said to Raffaele holds true for anyone who touches her.” My eyes slid over all three men before I smirked and raised my arm, asking the barkeeper for another round. They’d got the message.