I kept my face unaffected as I walked toward them. Aria was an apparition in her dark red dress and with her golden curls. In the past I’d often felt like I could never compete with her but I’d come to realize that I didn’t have to. Luca towered over my sister in a similar suit like Matteo, but it did nothing for me. I stopped beside Matteo and his hand immediately went to my hip. Did he even notice how possessive those small gestures were? In the past, my first reaction to them would have been annoyance followed by a rebuff, but now it seemed almost natural. I wasn’t sure why this was the case, why I molded so easily into the life that had been cut out for me even before my birth. Some people would probably seek an explanation in fate or faith. I’d never considered either option to be valid. I didn’t like the idea that some bigger outer thing controlled who I was and how my life would develop.
“Hey, where are you?” Matteo asked, squeezing my hip lightly. I blinked, focusing on him. I hadn’t even realized we’d stepped into the elevator.
I shook my head. “Thinking of all the ways this evening could end badly,” I lied.
“As long as Matteo keeps his knife in his holster and you keep your mouth in check, things should go smoothly,” Luca muttered, sending both Matteo and me a glare. “Tonight is important. Several of the attending businessmen are under pressure from the Russians. I want to show strength and make a good impression. It would be even better if you could manage not to offend the wives.”
“Why me? What about Aria?”
“Aria knows how to behave herself. She’s the perfect lady whereas you are anything but.”
Aria touched Luca’s chest. “Be nice to my sister.”
“I’m not rude to everyone. Only people I don’t like,” I said pointedly.
“Which will be everyone at the party,” Matteo interjected. “They are insufferable, believe me.” We exchanged a grin, then as if remembering our “kind of” fight from a few nights ago, looked away from each other. I could see Luca give Aria one of those secret looks they always shared.
“Just behave yourself,” Luca said. “Both of you. It’s like God’s sent you two to me to test my patience.”
Aria giggled and hit Luca’s shoulder lightly, but her eyes were sparkling with adoration. Would I ever look at someone like that? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. It seemed like she was baring her soul for everyone to see and she didn’t even mind.
Together we stepped out of the elevator and into the freezing cold parking garage. I shivered. I hadn’t taken a coat with me because I only had to walk from the elevator to the car and then from the car to wherever the party was taking place, but now I regretted it. It was mid-December after all. One month since Matteo had caught me. Sometimes it was hard to believe so much time had passed already.
Matteo let go of me, removed his jacket and put it over my shoulders. His warmth and scent enveloped me, and I caught myself drawing in a deep breath.
“Thanks,” I said half-embarrassed.
Luca had done the same for Aria despite the short way to the car. Aria and I settled in the back of Matteo’s Porsche Cayenne while Luca and Matteo sat in the front. It seemed the men weren’t worried anymore that I’d try to jump out of the driving car to escape. Maybe they, too, had noticed how easily I’d settled in.
Aria leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I know you don’t want to see it but you and Matteo are like you were made for each other.”
I shot her a look, ignoring the way my pulse sped up with an emotion I didn’t even want to think about. “Don’t even start.”
Aria shrugged. “It’s the truth. And he’s really trying. They aren’t perfect but they are trying to be good to us. You don’t look unhappy.”
I wasn’t exactly unhappy, but I tried to attribute it to Aria’s constant presence in my new life. It was the convenient explanation. I didn’t say anything, couldn’t come up with a witty reply that wouldn’t sound utterly fake.
We sat in silence after that and yet I felt like my silence was more of an answer than I liked. I was actually relieved when we finally pulled up in front of a luxury apartment building not unlike the one Matteo and I lived in. A doorman rushed toward our car and opened my door. Good thing he didn’t see both Luca and Matteo reach for their weapons, always ready for an attack.
I thanked the guy who looked like he was barely my age, and got out. Aria followed quickly. We handed the jackets back to our husbands before walking into the brightly lit lobby. Another doorman waited next to the elevator and clicked the correct button for us.
As we rode up toward the top floor, Matteo leaned close and murmured, “Don’t forget to behave yourself.” He winked at me when he pulled back and I knew we’d be in trouble. Matteo’s expression promised that he had absolutely no intention to be good tonight.
The party took place in a huge penthouse overlooking the city. It was not quite as big as Luca’s but definitely showy. The walls were covered with drawings by Picasso, Warhol, and Miró, all of them originals, and I had a feeling the furniture was as pretentious, but everything had been removed to fit two long tables for eighty guests into the room as well as a dozen bar tables where guests could mingle before dinner.
The noise level was overwhelming despite the size of the penthouse and there wasn’t anything Christmas-y about the decoration except for an abstract glass Nativity scene on the mantle and an even more abstract glass Christmas tree in one corner. Aria and I looked at each other and almost burst into laughter.
My mood dropped the moment the host and hostess, a middle-aged couple that looked even more fake than their tree, approached us. I braced myself for the disgusted once-over, but the woman smiled at Aria and me the same way.
The hostess who introduced herself as Miriam practically beamed at me, though it looked almost scary because her face was frozen from too many Botox treatments. “You must be the beautiful new bride,” she said, and kissed me on both cheeks.
“Yes, thank you,” I said, startled.
I darted a confused look at Matteo. He must have read it right because he leaned toward me while the host and hostess spoke to Luca and Aria. “They aren’t part of our culture. They don’t give a crap about our rules and morals,” Matteo whispered.
The hostess turned back to us. “Dinner starts in thirty minutes. But please help yourself to our delicious hors d’oeuvres and champagne.” She pronounced champagne in an odd French accent, which almost made me laugh again, but I pulled myself together and smiled politely instead. The woman had been kind to me, so I had to act accordingly, even if Luca thought I was incapable of pleasantness.
I glanced around, only spotting one familiar couple, that I assumed must be part of the mob or I wouldn’t have recognized them. Apart from that, we were blissfully surrounded by strangers, who didn’t call me slut under their breaths, or look down their noses at me. This was a straight-up social event that normal people, well normal rich people attended. I relaxed. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.
“Come on. Let’s fill up on some champagne. We’ll need the buzz to carry us through the boredom,” Matteo said. Luca shot him a scowl, but Matteo merely grinned and led me toward an unoccupied bar table. I grabbed a glass and took a deep gulp. That was the one good thing about living in our world; nobody gave a damn if I was of legal age to drink. The bubbles prickled delightfully on my tongue. It had been a long time since I’d had good champagne. The last time was at Aria’s wedding.