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I nodded. I knew this was only the beginning. The moment Aria was out of earshot, the men would try to extract details of my night with her.
Father put a hand on my shoulder before he gave Aria and me his false benevolent smile. “I hope we can expect small Vitiellos soon.”
Aria’s eyes widened a tad before she could mask her shock. I had absolutely no intention of having kids anytime soon—not as long as my father was in power. He wasn’t that old yet, only in his mid-fifties, but I hoped he’d find an end soon. “I want to enjoy Aria alone for a long while. And with the Bratva closing in, I wouldn’t want to have children to worry over.”
Father gave me a knowing smile, thinking I wanted to fuck my young wife in peace for a while. “Yes, yes, of course. Understandable.”
“I hear the Bratva sent a new Pakhan into your territory,” I said to Fiore, wanting the topic of my wife off the table.
Fiore nodded then looked at Dante who frowned. “Yes, Grigory Mikhailov. We’re still trying to check his background. He used to work directly under the Pakhan in Yekaterinburg, and now he’s taking over everything in Chicago. Unpredictable und brutal. They call him Stalin.”
Aria peered up at me and I loosened my hold on her. This wasn’t anything she needed to worry about. The women were throwing eager glances her way, anyway. She quickly walked away and toward them, stopping beside her mother and sister.
“Can’t take your eyes off your wife?” Father asked with a chuckle.
I only smiled coldly. The less I said the better. Nina pointed at the sheets and giggling rose among the women. Only Aria looked like she wanted to be swallowed whole by the ground.
Scuderi turned to us. “I must say I find your tradition of the bloody sheets enlightening.”
“Maybe it’s a tradition you’d like to reintroduce once you’re Capo,” Father said to Dante who stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking completely uninterested. His cautious blue eyes settled on my father. “I prefer to focus on the future and not look for traditions of the past.”
“That’s good to hear,” Fiore said pointedly to his son.
My father gave me a look. He, too, had noticed the tension between the Cavallaro men. Obviously Fiore was unhappy about Dante. I could only assume it had something to do with the fact that Dante still hadn’t married even though his wife had been dead for years.
“What about you, Luca? Are you thinking of changing the old traditions once you’re Capo?” Dante asked.
I smirked. “The Famiglia is built on tradition,” I said, then nodded toward my father with faked respect. “I’m not going to be Capo for a long time. My father is strong and I trust in his leadership.”
Father’s answering smile made me want to take my words back and end him right here and there.
Dante nodded, but his eyes held calculation.
Peace between us had an expiry date.
“Don’t hold back on us, Luca,” Durant said. “Tell us more about your first night with your beautiful wife.”
“I must say I would have expected more blood considering your size and hers,” Uncle Gottardo said with a cackle and a wink. There was something in his eyes that made me consider crushing his throat like I had his son’s. Dante’s mouth curled in disgust. Scuderi, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care that someone spoke like that about his daughter. If I ever had a daughter, I’d cut off anyone’s head who dared to talk that way about her.
Every man looked toward Aria then at me. I didn’t bother masking my anger and possessiveness. If my civil mask led to those kinds of questions, I’d rather drop it before my uncles got more blood than they bargained for. “I’m feared among my enemies and my soldiers. I don’t need to claim my wife without preparation so she bleeds more to gain anyone’s respect, Uncle.”
These words were already more than I wanted to share even if nothing had happened between Aria and me. Father laughed, but his gaze was assessing. I’d have to be on my toes. Where had Matteo gone? Was he sleeping off his intoxication in a quiet room?
From the corner of my eye, I saw Liliana and Fabiano slip into the room. Neither was supposed to attend the gathering.
“Why’s there blood on the sheets? Has someone been killed?” Fabiano bellowed, pointing at the sheets with wide eyes.
The men around me began laughing, except for Dante and me. We glanced at each other. We would never like each other, but maybe we could establish a base of respect to keep up the peace for a few years.
Suddenly, Aria rushed out of the room with her arm around her sister Liliana.
I excused myself to check on my wife, not liking her out of my sight. Romero leaned beside the closed door of the guest bathroom, and I relaxed. “Aria and Liliana are inside,” he said.
