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"Of course, you will." I gave her a wry smile and stood, smoothing the fabric of my dress.
After Sofia left, I took a steadying breath. The memory of the Irishman’s kiss lingered, as dangerous as it was thrilling. I knew I should push it from my mind, forget the warmth of his touch and the taste of his lips.
If my family ever learned the truth, it would mean his death.
My death, too. Lorenzo would never stand for such betrayal.
It was safer for him to remain a beautiful, forbidden memory.
Sofia and I descended the grand staircase arm-in-arm. Angel lounged in the foyer, scrolling through his phone. Dom was nowhere to be seen.
Angel looked up as we reached the bottom. He raked a heated gaze over Sofia, lingering on her legs in a way that made my skin crawl. Sofia gave a flirty little smile. "Are Dom and Lorenzo already in the dining room?" I asked.
"Yeah. Dad's pissed." Angel smirked. "Luca is here, too."
He said it like the two statements weren’t mutually exclusive, and I bit my lip to stop myself from saying something. That would only make it worse. It was no secret that Angel wasn’t a big fan of Luca.
Speaking of Luca’s biggest fans…Sofia gave me a suggestive little hip-bump. I rolled my eyes. At age seventeen, Sofia was still off limits, but that still didn't stop her from trying to live vicariously through me. According to her, every missed flirtationwas a wasted opportunity. It was tiresome, especially when it came to Luca. I just didn’t see him that way.
While I had practically been born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, Luca had come from next to nothing. Born to an abusive, alcoholic father and a scheming, cheating mother, he’d lost them both in a horrific murder-suicide that landed him in the same group home I’d been sent after my parents had died. Luca was a year older than me and already no stranger to the system. He could’ve used that to his advantage and made my life a living hell, but instead, he'd protected me.
As a thank you, Lorenzo had offered him a job. Hard work and loyalty had earned Luca a seat at the table, a fact that Angel never could stomach, along with my unwavering support—something else that grated against Angel’s nerves. I didn’t care. Luca Mariano would always have my back, and I would always have his.
"Cut it out." I hip-checked her back.
"What? You need a man," she teased. "Or maybe you already found one, hmm?"
Angel cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow, and I shot him a dirty look. "Luca is family."
"Wasn't talking about that clown," Angel sneered. "And besides, that's not what he thinks."
"Oh, bite me, Angel," Sofia scoffed. "Em would rather marry Luca than you."
I held up my hands. I'd had enough. "I'm not marrying anyone, ever. So can we just go to dinner?"
"Don't let dad hear you say that. He's already in a pissy mood. Best behavior tonight, ladies." Angel jerked his chin toward the dining room.
Sofia looped her arm through mine, and we followed Angel through the archway. The dining room was awash with candlelight, gilding the crystal and silverware arranged on themassive oak table. My family was already seated, a vision of wealth and power in their tailored suits and designer dresses. Lorenzo sat at the head of the table, as always, with his wife, Viviana, on his right. She shot me a venomous look as I took my seat across from her, her lips pursing in disdain. She'd hated me ever since I could remember, but I had never been able to figure out why.
"You're late," Lorenzo said, though his tone held no edge. I was the one person he rarely scolded.
Dominic sat to Lorenzo's right, his expression set in his signature perma-scowl. Luca sat beside him, leaning back in his chair and idly tracing circles on the tablecloth. I elbowed Sofia, who was staring a little too openly at Luca's muscular arms. Two place settings had been left open for us, right across from Lorenzo's consigliere, Sal, and his wife, Isabel.
"My apologies," I murmured, folding my napkin over my lap. "Sofia and I lost track of time."
Lorenzo waved away my excuse and signaled for the first course to be served. "No matter. You're here now." His gaze slid down the table where Angel sat, who was practically undressing me with his eyes.
"Angelo." Lorenzo's voice was soft, but the reprimand was clear. Angel averted his gaze, and Sofia stiffened next to me.
I tried to ignore it. Dinner with my family was always...difficult. I pushed the arugula and pear salad around on my plate. Even if I didn't absolutely detest arugula, I didn't have much of an appetite. My mind was still back in the bookstore with a certain red-headed Irishman.
A knee nudged mine under the table. "Hey." Luca leaned towards me. "Are you okay?"
I gave him a faint smile as I smushed the second course around my plate, something tiny and artistic and indecipherable and probably expensive. Luca had been a permanent fixture inmy life ever since Lorenzo adopted me when I was seven. A capo for the Moretti Family alongside Angel and Julian, Luca had the misfortune of being competent at his job. It wasn't much of an issue for Sofia's easygoing brother, Julian, but Luca's competence placed him directly in Angel's sights. As the second son, Angel already had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide, which roughly translated into tiny-dick syndrome.
I stifled a smirk. It probably wasn't far from the truth, either.
"Em?" Luca was still looking at me. "Everything okay?"
