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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.CHAPTER 4ALMOST 3 YEARS LATERMatteo waved a newspaper in the air when he entered my penthouse. Setting my cup of coffee down, I raised my eyebrows. “Since when do you read the newspaper?” I asked. Of course we needed to stay up to date on political events, especially legislation, but that’s what the internet was for. Did Matteo think it would make him look better? Like some fucking Brooklyn hipster?
I wouldn’t put it past him to carry a newspaper with him for fashion purposes.
His answering grin raised my suspicions. “I saw an interesting article online when I checked the news in bed this morning and decided to get physical proof of it.”
“Of what?”
Matteo stepped up to the kitchen bar and put the newspaper down in front of me. My eyebrows rose in surprise when I saw the headline and the photo.
This is the woman who snatched New York’s most sought-after bachelor from the market!
Below the headline was a photo of me and beside it a photo of Aria. For a second, I froze. I hadn’t seen Aria in the last three years since our engagement. There hadn’t been any reason to do so. I’d sent her presents for Christmas, the anniversary of our engagement, Valentine’s Day, and her birthday—the last one yesterday for her eighteenth birthday.
Aria was painfully beautiful. The photo wasn’t an official one. It looked as if paparazzi had taken it without her knowledge, so her gaze was distant as she looked into the camera. She was walking the streets in Chicago, carrying a few shopping bags, and followed by Umberto and her second bodyguard. She was dressed in a short gray winter coat, an oversized white wool pullover, a heart-stoppingly short plaid skirt, and gray overknee suede boots that showed off her slim calves and legs. Her long blond hair trailed down her shoulders and good Lord, her face…I wasn’t even sure if she wore make-up, but she was stunning.
“You’re drooling,” Matteo said as he leaned across from me.
My eyes snapped up to his.
“But so was he.” Matteo pointed at a man in the photo who almost broke his neck to stare after Aria, checking her out. I felt the urge to find out who he was and kill him just for the thrill of it. But I had a feeling I wouldn’t stop killing if I punished every guy who checked out my fiancée.
“I have to say I’m a bit offended that they didn’t consider me the most sought-after bachelor in New York. I mean, look at me.” Matteo stepped back so I could admire him in his outfit. Fucking biker boots, leather jacket and ripped jeans.
“You don’t have to worry about it anymore. According to this, I’m now off the market,” I said dryly.
