“When will you stop being afraid of me?”
“You don’t want me to be afraid of you?” I’d always thought it would make his life easier if I was terrified of him. Would make it easier to keep me in check.
Luca’s dark brows drew together. “You are my wife. We’ll spend our lives together. I don’t want a cowering woman at my side.”
That really surprised me. Mother loved Father, but she also feared him. “Are there people out there who don’t fear you?”
“A few,” he said before lowering his head and pressing his lips against mine. He kissed me without hurry until I relaxed under his touch and parted my lips for him. I raised my arm and hesitantly touched the back of his neck, my fingers brushing his hair. My other hand pressed against his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles. He pulled away.
“I have half a mind to cancel this fucking meeting.” He rubbed his thumb over my lips. “But there’s still more than enough time for this later.” He glanced at his watch. “I really need to go now. Romero will be here when I’m gone. Take your time to look around and make yourself comfortable.” With that, he headed for the door and left.
For a moment, I stared at the door, wondering if anyone would stop me if I walked out of this building. Instead I moved toward the staircase and walked up to the second floor. Only one of the white doors was ajar, and I pushed it open. The master bedroom opened up before me. As with the living area, an entire wall was made up of windows overlooking New York. The king-sized bed was facing them. I wondered how it would be to watch the sunrise from bed. The wall behind the bed was upholstered with black fabric. At the end of the room a doorway led into a walk-in closet, and to its right I could see a freestanding bathtub through the glass wall separating the bedroom from the bathroom.
I walked toward it. Even from the bathtub you could watch the city. Despite the glass wall, the washbasins and the shower weren’t visible from the bedroom, and the toilet was in its own small room.
“Aria?”
I gasped. My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly followed the voice and found Romero on the gallery, carrying my bags. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said when he saw my face. I nodded. “Where do you want me to put your bags?”
I’d forgotten Luca had dropped them on the sofa. “I don’t know. Maybe the walk-in closet?”
He strode past me and set the bags down on a bench in the closet. My three suitcases as well as two moving boxes were beside it. “Do you know if I need to dress up for tonight? Luca said he wants to take me to his favorite restaurant, but he didn’t tell me if it has a dress code.”
Romero smiled. “No. Definitely no dress code.”
“Why? Is it a KFC?” I’d actually never eaten at a KFC. Father and Mother would have never taken us to a place like that. Gianna, Lily and I had once convinced Umberto to take us to a McDonalds, but that was the extent of my experience with fast-food joints.
“Not really. I think Luca wants to surprise you.”
I doubted that. “Maybe I should unpack then.” I gestured at my suitcases.
Romero kept a careful distance from me. He was nice but professional. “Do you need help?”
I really didn’t want Romero to touch my underwear. “No. I’d prefer to be alone.”
Compassion filled Romero’s face before he turned and left. I waited until I was certain that he was back downstairs before I opened the first box. On top was a photo of me with Gianna, Lily and Fabi. I cried for the third time in less than twenty-four hours. I’d seen them only this morning, so how could I already feel so alone?
* * *
When Luca came home almost five hours later, I’d changed into a skirt and a flimsy, sleeveless blouse. Despite my best efforts, my eyes were still slightly red from crying. There was a limit to what makeup could do. Luca noticed immediately, his gaze lingering on my eyes, then darting to the photo of my family on the nightstand.
“I wasn’t sure which was your side. I can move it to the other nightstand if you want,” I said.
“No, it’s okay.” Exhaustion was written plainly on his face.
“Was the meeting okay?”
Luca looked away. “Let’s not talk about it. I’m starving.” He held out his hand and I took it and followed him to the elevator. He was tense and barely said a word as we rode in his car. I wasn’t sure if he expected me to make conversation, and I was too emotionally drained to put up an effort.
When we stopped at a red light, he glanced over. “You look great.”
“Thanks.”
He parked the car in a gated parking area where they stashed the cars on top of each other, then we headed down a street with small restaurants offering everything from Indian cuisine, to Lebanese and Sushi. He stopped at a Korean restaurant and held the door open for me. Stunned, I walked into the crowded, narrow dining room.
Small tables were set closely together, and a bar at the front offered alcoholic beverages with labels I couldn’t even read. A waiter came up to us and upon spotting Luca, he led us toward the back of the restaurant and gave us the last available table. The people at the table beside ours stared at Luca with wide eyes, probably wondering how he’d fit. I took the seat on the bench running the entire length of the room, and Luca folded himself into the chair across from me. The man beside him shifted his chair to the side, so Luca would have more room. Did they know who he was or were they being polite?
“You look surprised,” Luca said after the waiter had taken our drink orders and left us with the menu.
“I didn’t think you’d go for Asian food, considering everything.” That was all I could say in a crowded restaurant, but Luca knew I was talking about the Taiwanese Triad.
“This is the best Asian restaurant in town, and it doesn’t belong to an Asian chain.”
I frowned. Was it under the protection of the Famiglia?
“It’s independent.”
“There are independent restaurants in New York?”
The couple at the table beside us gave me a strange look. For them our conversation probably seemed more than a little weird.
“A few, but we’re in negotiations right now.”
I snorted.
Luca pointed at my menu. “Do you need help?”
“Yeah, I’ve never tried Korean.”
“The marinated silk tofu and the bulgogi beef are delicious.”
“You eat tofu?”
Luca shrugged. “If it’s prepared like this, then yes.”
I shook my head. This was surreal. “Just order what you think is best. I eat everything except for liver.”
“I like women that eat more than salad.”
The waiter returned and took our orders. I fumbled with the chopsticks, trying to figure out the best way to use them.
“Have you never used sticks before?” Luca asked with a smirk. Was he mocking me?
“My parents only took us to their favorite Italian restaurant, and I wasn’t really allowed to go anywhere alone.” Bitterness rang in my voice.
“You can go anywhere you want now.”
“Really? Alone?”
Luca lowered his voice. “With Romero or me, or Cesare when Romero isn’t available.”