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“Jesus fuck.”
Santino’s kid is still standing with Isabella. I lower my glass to the bar and stand up. “I’m off.”
“Leaving in the middle of your own wedding reception?”
“I have a meeting with Sergei Belov this afternoon.”
He widens his eyes at me. “I didn’t know you were doing business with the Bratva.”
“Well, we already established that you don’t know that many things, Orlando.”
I leave Orlando staring daggers at my back and head to collect my wife.
I stare out the window of the limousine, watching the buildings as we pass them by, and try to smother the need to turn and face Luca. He made sure he sat as far away from me as possible, on the other side of the back seat. We’ve been driving for almost an hour, and he hasn’t said a word to me. Instead, he’s been engrossed by typing something on his phone.
My thoughts fly back to the church and our wedding this morning. I was so damn excited when the priest said “You may kiss the bride”. It’s not that I expected Luca to devour me in front of all those people, but I did want a real kiss. And what did I get? A light peck on the cheek. Next, he might as well have taken out candy from his pocket and given it to me. It hurts, the way he’s acting.
I sigh and continue looking outside, wondering what the hell I should do now. Just saywho caresand see where this situation leads us? Live with a husband who remains a stranger because we ignore each other? Nope, I won’t allow it. My self-pity party ends here. I finally married a man whom I’ve secretly loved for years, and I’ll be damned if I let him sweep me under the carpet. Luca may not care about me now, but I will make him fall in love with me, or I’ll die trying.
He has a problem with our age difference. I clearly heard him say that. Well, I can’t do anything about how old I am, so it’s one of the obstacles I’ll need to overcome. I guess I’ll have to give hima wake-up call. I may be young, but I know what I want. Him. Loving me. And I’m ready to fight for it.
The limo stops in front of a big white mansion, and Luca exits and comes around to open my door. Gathering my skirt, I take his extended hand, and get out to regard my new home. It’s smaller than my grandfather’s house, where I grew up, but still huge.
“Take Mrs. Rossi’s suitcase upstairs,” he says to the driver and motions for me to follow him inside. “I suppose you’ll want to change and rest, so I’ll take you to your room. Damian will show you around the house before dinner.”
“Your brother?” I ask as we enter the big foyer.
“Yes. I have work to do.”
“Oh?” I might be in love with him, but it doesn’t mean I’ll allow him to treat me like a doormat. “I don’t remember marrying your brother, Luca.”
He stops in his tracks and turns to me. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you will be the one to show me the house and introduce me to your staff,” I say in a cold voice and enjoy the way his eyes widen in disbelief. Didn’t expect me to have a backbone, did he? Well, surprise. “Where’s your daughter?”
“Rosa is at her friend’s house. She’ll be home for dinner.”
“Good. Please take me to my room now.”
Luca cocks his head to the side, eyeing me with interest, then heads to the big stairway as I lag a few paces behind. I always admired the way he walks. His stride is slow, like a wolf on the prowl. Letting my eyes travel up his body, I check out his long legs and broad shoulders, and stop at the top of his head where his hair is gathered in a bun.
So many times, I’ve daydreamed about taking out that hair tie and threading my fingers through those black strands. I wonder how long his hair is now. The only time I saw it loose was after he jumped into the pool to save me all those years ago. His bun must have come undone in the process, spilling his mane free. It was shoulder-length back then.
I remember everything about him. Observing Luca in secret was all I ever could do, so I made sure to catch every single detail and store it in my mental vault, labeled with his name. The way his body changed over the years, becoming brawny, harder. Since I turned sixteen, I imagined that huge body wrapped around mine, holding me tight. Loving me.
I was seventeen the first time I pleasured myself, and I did it by imagining it was his hand between my legs instead of mine. From that day on, I’ve been doing it every single night before going to sleep. Sometimes even during the day. Whenever I’ve felt lonely or sad, I would lock myself in my room, get under the blanket, and imagine Luca lying next to me while I orgasmed. If people knew, they may think I’m silly for being in love with a man without actually knowing him that well. I don’t care.
When we reach the third floor, Luca nods toward the door on the left and opens it. “My room,” he says.
I take a glance, noticing an enormous bed under the window. Most of the furniture is made of dark wood that works well with the pale beige walls and curtains in the same shade.
“This room is not used,” he says, opening the next door. The room seems the same size as his, but the furniture here is mostly white, with curtains and a rug in a soft peach color. There’s a connecting door on the left wall that probably leads to his bedroom. He quickly shuts the door and ushers me down the corridor until we reach the last two rooms.
“Rosa’s room.” He nods to the one on the left with a big “Do Not Disturb” sticker on it, then turns to the door on the right and opens it. “This is you.”
It’s a nice space. Big, with several tall windows and light wood furniture. My suitcase stands in the middle of the carpet next to a big fluffy sofa.
“I’ll come by at six to take you downstairs to have dinner,” he says and leaves.
