Chapter 17

17

Luca

This is not just ripping the bandage off; it's tearing off sutures before the wound has completely healed. It's breaking the cast and yanking off the plaster before the bone has had time to set. I keep the smile—at least, I think it's a smile—firmly pasted on my face as I reach the last step and place my foot on the ground. Massimo watches me approach, a look of complete astonishment on his face.

"The fuck you staring at, stronzo ?" I growl.

He blinks rapidly, then lowers his gaze to the woman I'm carrying in my arms. A sensation of knives stabbing into my chest assails me. An unknown emotion twists my insides.

"Eyes up here, you coglione !"

"What?" He snaps his gaze up to my face. "I can't look at her? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," I say.

"I'm Jeanne, by the way," the woman I'm carrying pipes up at the same time.

"Pleased to meet you, Jeanne." He holds out his hand. I make a low noise in the back of my throat. What is wrong with me? Why are my guts twisting in on themselves. Is that jealousy? Possessiveness? A combination of all those emotions that I would have never associated with myself.

Jeanne holds out her hand, but Massimo has already lowered his by then.

"Apparently, my brother has forgotten his manners, but I'd rather not risk him losing his temper and deciding he wants to shoot me," he explains.

"That's Massimo, and you can forget you ever met him." I brush past him and toward the crowd of people who are watching my progress with great interest.

I come to a pause in front of them. All of them watch me expectantly. The silence stretches for a few beats.

"You going to introduce us?" Karma finally asks.

"I can introduce myself." Jeanne struggles in my arms.

I tighten my grasp around her. "This is, ah, my wife-to-be, Jeanne…" I draw a blank. Shit, did I ask her for her surname? "Jeanne..."

"Watson," she supplies in a smooth voice.

"Jeanne Watson. We're, ah, to be married," I declare.

There's silence. Complete and utter silence. Every one of them looks at me like I have just crash-landed from the moon. Which, honestly, having heard my own words… I don't blame them for reacting this way. The magnitude of the challenge I'm about to take on sinks in.

I'm going to marry her. It's a short-term affair; not going to last long—or only as long as it takes to convince my family that our union is for real. And why didn't I put an end-date to the relationship when I had the chance? I'm acting completely out of character, but since I met her, my equilibrium has been compromised. Clearly it has to do with the knock on the head I took when that stronzo Freddie ambushed me. Yes, that's it. That's the only reason I scooped her up in my arms and walked down the steps, and am now introducing her to the rest of my family. It's the only reason I haven't called this entire thing off and boarded that plane back to London.

"Jeanne." Aurora, Christian's wife comes forward. "It's lovely to meet you." She holds out her hand and Jeanne shakes it. Theresa, Axel's wife and Elsa, Seb's wife, close the distance to us.

"Umm, you going to put her down?" Theresa titters. "Not that it's not romantic, but I'd like to hug my future sister-in-law and it's difficult to do so when you're holding onto her like you're afraid she's going to vanish if you let her go."

"What?" I glance down to find Jeanne looking back at me with an expression of bewilderment. One I assume is mirrored on my face. So I set her on her feet and take a step to the side. Instantly, the women cluster around her. Theresa kisses Jeanne on her cheek, Elsa throws her arms about my fiancé—um, fiancé? I try the word out on my tongue. It feels strange, and yet also, not. I watch her—or what I can glimpse of her from over the shoulders of my brother's wives. She smiles at them, returns their hugs and kisses, and replies to their greetings. She seems so at home. She seems like one of us. Only she isn't. She's someone who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place, if I'm being honest. Which I'm not. She's simply the woman who was there when I needed someone to take on the role of my wife and get my family off my back. Why is it proving to be so difficult to remember that?

"Luca." My oldest brother Michael's voice cuts through the babble of excited voices. The tension in the air spikes. The women quieten as they sense the unspoken unease that crowds the space between us.

I walk past them to where Michael stands in the center of my brothers. Tension prickles up my spine. My pulse rate increases. I've done nothing wrong, and yet, it feels like I'm being called to heel. I don't need a shrink to tell me that I have a problem with authority. Probably due to the fact that I never trusted my father, and when Michael filled in the role of an authority figure in my life, I wanted so much to please him. Only he left me. He opted to go study in LA when he turned eighteen. He left me behind. Oh, he sent for us in six months, but by then, the damage was done.

I'd grown to hate my father, hate my family, had wanted to run away—had actually run away, until my Nonna had sent men to track me down and bring me back home. And I'd hated her for that. I hadn't wanted to go to LA, but luckily for me, Nonna would hear none of it. She'd bundled all of us boys and left Italy behind, and that had been the best thing she could have done.

New school, new friends... The change in environment had done me good. I had come out of the negative headspace I'd been in and found a new lease of life. Only, my bitterness for what Michael had done never really faded away. Instead, it grew over the years into something tangible. A chip on my shoulder I could never shake off. Didn't want to shake it off. And when I realized that, as the second born, I'd never have the chance to be Don, it metastasized into the resentment I now carry around.

" Capo ." He holds out his right hand in the formal gesture he uses with ranking members of our clan.

"Don." I clasp his hand, then bend and kiss the signet ring on his little finger. The first time I have done so since I took over as Capo .

I straighten and he pulls me toward him and wraps his arm around my shoulders. "You're safe," his voice is normal, but when I step back and look into his eyes, I spot the worry there. Huh?

"Of course I am." I try to pull away but he doesn't release me.

"And you've acquired yourself a bride?"

"It would seem so."

He looks between my eyes, apparently searching for something. Well, whatever it is, you're not going to find any trace of emotion there. "You can skip the show of concern. I wasn't going to die that easily."

He holds my gaze a second longer, then jerks his chin. "I had no doubt you would return. You're the quickest to the draw, Luca, and also, the bravest among us. Whatever challenges you faced, I had no doubt you'd find a way to overcome them."

"Just like I did when you left me and our other brothers behind and went off to the States to make your life."

Michael winces. A flash of something crosses over his features, before he replaces it with the mask of aloof superiority again.

He releases me and I step back.

"That motherfucker Freddie needs to be taught a lesson. If he thinks he can get away with what he did, he doesn't know the might of the Cosa Nostra yet."

"Which is why I'm going after him on my own."

"You will not." Michael's tone hardens, "I will not risk the life of another of my brothers."

He's referring to the death of our youngest brother Xander, who was killed by a car bomb rigged by none other than our own father.

"He came after me and mine; I need to track him down and teach him a lesson so he knows he can't ever fuck with us again."

"Revenge is good. Revenge drives a man to his optimal performance. But foolhardiness is a trait that only the foolish mistake for courage."

Anger contorts my stomach. My face heats. "Are you calling me foolish?"

"I will not let you go after Freddie on your own."

I draw in a sharp breath. The anger that beats in my chest solidifies into something uglier. Something harder. Something that pushes me to thrust my head forward and growl, "I'm not going to pussyfoot around what needs to be done. I'm not going to waste time strategizing, or whatever bullshit line you're going to feed me. You're married, with a child on the way. It's understandable that you don't have the balls for confrontations anymore. I, on the other hand?—"

"Luca?" I hear her soft voice a second before her fingers wrap about my wrist. A zing of electricity runs up my arm, down my spine, straight to my groin. My balls stiffen and my shoulders bunch. The gnawing feeling in my chest eases.

The sweet scent of roses teases my senses.

I shoot her a sideways glance, and her amber eyes hold mine. The zing of electricity thrums and intensifies to a crash of thunder that echoes through the corners of my mind. Droplets of rain plop on my nose. On her cheek. One slides down her eyelid and balances at the edge of her eyelash. The scent of ozone fills the air, and the hair on my forearms stands to attention. All other noises fade away, and it's just me and her, trapped in a bubble from which there is no escape.

"Luca?" Michael's voice cuts through the silence. The bubble bursts. The sound of footsteps receding reaches me. A car door slams. I blink.

Then, Massimo draws abreast.

"Why don't the two of you come with me?"