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“Okay.” She stumbled a little on the stones lining the driveway, and Christian shot his hand out to help steady her. It was a move I should have done now that I was her husband, but I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea, not this soon into our arrangement.
The doors opened as soon as we walked toward them, the housekeeper holding a tray of drinks in greeting. She spoke to Aida, but I had no intention of standing around and chatting. I had work to do, deals to make, and people to take care of. If I had it my way, none of this would be happening. I vowed to myself that it would be the last time someone told me what I had to do.
It didn’t take long for the guests to spill inside the mansion, and I was forced to make small talk, to walk around introducing Aida to everyone. My practiced smile and good manners came in useful, that was until we made it to my family.
“Ma,” I said, placing my hand on her elbow. “You’ve met Aida.”
Ma gasped and spun around, her face lighting up in a way I hadn’t seen since before my dad had died. “Oh, Aida.” She kissed her cheeks. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Beretta.”
“No.” She clasped her shoulders. “You call me Ma from now on. Got it?”
Aida smiled, and I hated it. I hated how sweet and innocent it was. She wasn’t like us. She was good, and I’d dragged her into this without a second thought.
“Thanks, Ma.” She took Ma’s hand in hers. “Your house is so amazing.” Ma grinned, and I knew these two would make fast friends.
“Are you going to introduce me, nephew?” Uncle Paolo asked, and Ma froze, her gaze slipping to mine, a warning in her dark-brown eyes. She knew more than she let on, and I wondered how much Dad had confided in her. Did he confess everything to her each night? Or did he leave her in the dark, not wanting her to know what he did when his darkness took over?
“Yes.” I placed my hand at the small of Aida’s back and pulled her closer. “Uncle Paolo, this is Aida.” I looked down at Aida, the top of her head coming level with my shoulders. She was too short, and I was guessing she had heels on—just another reason why she wasn’t my type. “Aida, this is my uncle Paolo. He flew all the way from Italy to see us get married.” I tried to silently communicate with her, but I wasn’t sure if she got the message because she flashed him her innocent smile and held her hand out.
“Uncle Paolo.” He took her hand, bringing it to his lips and planting a kiss on her knuckles. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You too, bella.” He winked, his gaze instantly meeting mine. “Could I interest you in a dance?”
“I…” Aida glanced up at me, asking permission, and I gave it to her with a tilt of my head.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Ma said, watching them move to the middle of the floor in the living room. “He’s trying to—”
“Boss,” a deep voice said from behind me, and I turned to it, seeing a stern-faced Christian. “There’s been a problem.”
I didn’t hesitate to step away from Ma. It was my excuse to escape, and I took it with both hands. I didn’t say a word to Ma as I moved away from her and toward Christian. “Not here,” I told him, doing up the button on my suit jacket and making my way out of the room.
As soon as we were near the front door, he pointed to it. “Out there.” I stepped outside, noting the two guards at the front doors and the SUV parked at an angle near the water feature. “We caught two soldiers in the warehouse.” I snapped my gaze to him, already feeling my anger building at his words. “Stealing.”
“Stealing what?” I asked, moving toward the SUV.
“The latest shipment of guns.”
“Get them out.” I signaled, halting a few feet from the SUV.
My blood thrummed through my veins, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. I needed this. I needed to let out some of the frustration I felt at…everything. Nothing had been right since we’d buried Dad, and I wasn’t sure anything ever would be again. But this? This would give me the relief I needed—for now, at least.
The doors swung open, and two figures were hauled outside. I recognized them from the streets, but more than that, from the family. Our own family had tried to steal from us, and on my wedding day of all days. I tutted and pushed my hands into the pockets of my slacks.
“Well…” I paced in front of them, the stones crunching under my shiny dress shoes. “I hear you’ve been stealing.”
“No, please, sir,” one of them begged, holding his hands up in front of him. “It was a mistake. We just—"
“Shut up!” the other one shouted at him.
“No.” The beggar turned to the other one. “It was all your idea!”
“Snitch,” he sneered, trying to get closer to him, but Christian held him back. It was only then I realized that Dante, my bro
ther, was holding the other guy. His face was carefully neutral, not showing a single emotion.
I could hit two birds with one stone. I could get out my anger while also showing Dante what he would have to do now. He wasn’t the favorite child any longer. He wouldn’t be able to walk away from the violence, not when it would be him dishing it out. I’d been a kid the first time I’d watched my father torture a man, and now it was time for Dante to see a snippet of his future.
