Filed to story: Bound by Honor (Aria & Luca) Drama Story
LUCA
The days passed quickly after our return to New York, and soon November rolled around and with it Matteo and Gianna’s fucking engagement party. The girl didn’t even try to hide that she didn’t want to marry Matteo.
If it had been up to me, I’d have let Scuderi marry her off to whatever old creep he’d chosen for her before Matteo played the fucking hero and asked for her hand.
She would bring trouble to New York, and I was glad that the wedding was still more than half a year away because additional trouble was the last thing I needed at the moment.
Dante entered my mansion with Scuderi and nine-year-old Fabiano, who trailed after them like a lost puppy. Gianna and Liliana had arrived earlier with their mother and immediately gone upstairs to prepare for the festivities. Neither of the women felt comfortable around me.
Dante and Scuderi wouldn’t be spending the night under my roof. They preferred a close-by hotel, and I was fucking relieved. Maybe our fathers had agreed on a truce, but Dante and I didn’t trust each other. I didn’t want him under the same roof as Aria. Not that he had any interest in her. He hadn’t officially taken over as Boss from his father Fiore Cavallaro yet, but everyone knew he was already running the show in Chicago.
“I still can’t stand their fucking faces,” Matteo muttered. “Especially Scuderi makes me want to optimize his face with my knife.”
One day maybe, but not today.
I walked toward them and held out my hand to Dante as tradition dictated. “Dante,” I said neutrally, which was the friendliest tone I could muster. “I hear you got engaged only recently. Congratulations.”
Dante inclined his head. “The wedding won’t be a big affair like yours with Aria.”
“We’re honored to attend anyway.” Of course, we had gotten an invitation and were required to go, even if I couldn’t have cared less if Dante married or not.
Dante inclined his head, his eyes cold and wary. I shook Scuderi’s hand after that, and squeezed a bit tighter than was called for, remembering what Aria had told me in Sicily-that he had hit her even after our engagement, even after I told him she was mine.
His brows drew together. “Luca.”
I released his hand. “Rocco.”
“Where is Aria?”
“She is talking to the caterer about some last-minute changes, but she will be here any moment.”
“Is Romero still her bodyguard? I never understood how you let an attractive man close to her age guard her. I wouldn’t allow my wife an opportunity like that.”
The moment this truce was over, I’d hunt him down and show him what it felt like to drown in his own blood. I smiled coldly, my voice steel. “My men know she is mine. No one would dare look at her the wrong way. Men like your nephew Raffaele would have been skinned in New York, their skin left to dry so it could make a nice carpet for my office.”
Scuderi’s face turned red.
Dante only met my gaze with the same cold appraisal as always. “We’ve come to celebrate an engagement, not skin anyone, I assume.” His eyes said he would have preferred the latter.
I inclined my head. “Of course. We want to further our bonds, right?”
“Right,” Dante clipped, and silence followed.
Beside me, Matteo looked like he was only waiting for a sign from me to pull his knives and carve a smile into their throats.
My eyes went to the small figure behind Scuderi who watched us with huge blue eyes, Aria’s eyes.
“Fabiano,” I said, trying to soften my voice but succeeding only marginally. He peered up at his father, who gave a jerky nod before Fabiano stepped forward and held out his hand. I took it and shook it, and then the kid narrowed his eyes. “Where are Gianna and Lily?”
Protectiveness rang in his young voice, and I had to stifle a smile.
“He’s buried them in the backyard,” Matteo said with a grin.
Fabiano jerked, and I sent Matteo a scowl. “They are upstairs,” I told Fabiano and tightened my grip slightly, sending him a warning look. He was still a kid, but I wouldn’t tolerate his insolence in my own territory.
He lowered his eyes and I released him.
“I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, but you will have to beat Gianna into shape. She needs a hard hand,” Scuderi said, and Matteo’s answering grin sent me into high alert.
Dante straightened. Three years of truce. How much longer?
The door swung open and Romero stepped inside, checking if the air was clear before he allowed Aria to step through. His brows drew together when he noticed the tension between us, and he stretched out his arm to bar Aria’s way. Of course, she wouldn’t have it, her eyes zeroing in on her brother.
She ducked under Romero’s arm. “Fabi!” she called, her face breaking into a smile as she rushed toward us. She flung herself at her brother and hugged him tightly. The unbridled happiness on her face banished any violent thoughts I’d harbored. She pulled back, her eyes scanning her brother. “You have grown again. When will you ever stop?”
“When I’m as tall as Luca,” Fabiano said firmly.
And Aria let out that bell-like laugh I fucking loved more than anything else. “Then we’ll have to feed you a lot.” She raised her gaze to me, so full of happiness and love I had trouble keeping my face emotionless and hard. Her expression fell slightly before realization set in as she turned to Dante and her father. Politeness and grace took over her face as she stepped up to her father and kissed his cheeks. “Father.”
Then she turned to Dante. From the tense set of her shoulders I could see that he scared her, and that sight would have been enough to make me want to lunge but Matteo’s hand on my forearm, a silent warning, stopped me. I sent him a look. Now he had to stop me from breaking truce, really?
Dante must have seen some of my thoughts, because his eyes narrowed the slightest bit before he took Aria’s hand and kissed it. He released her quickly and she stepped back. She came to my side and I touched her waist.