Page 10 of Duke of Ruin

“That’s sweet, but it doesn’t really solve our problem,” Noah chuckles. I can’t believe how easy he is to be around. His fingers inch higher on my thigh, and I clench my jaw. “But we don’t have to hide anything in here.”

I suck in a sharp breath, my dick suddenly at full attention. Noah starts stroking his thumb against the bulge in my pants, and I think I might come before we even get out of the garage.

“You are a dangerous man, Noah,” I say, and lean over to press my lips against his.

He kisses me back before sliding his mouth to my ear and whispering, “You have no idea.”

I question whether we have time for something here in the car, but showing up late to dinner will only raise questions about Noah, so against all my desires I pull away from him and start the engine. He takes the hint and relaxes back into his seat. The look on his face mirrors my frustration, but we have to focus on the night ahead.

Once we arrive at the Carbone estate, his demeanor changes. He keeps his spine straight as we walk to the doors, and I have to fight to keep him at arm’s length. I don’t think the family would ever hurt me, but I know better than to believe they wouldn’t come after Noah. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to him because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.

“Buena sera,” my father greets us as we walk into the grand entranceway. He’s descending the staircase with Esmerelda, who appears bored. She won’t last much longer.

“Good to see you, Father,” I say. He comes over and clasps my hand, then turns to Noah.

“It’s good to see you again. Remind me of your name?” My father firmly shakes Noah’s hand.

“Noah,” he says with a deferential dip of his chin. “Nice to see you, too, sir.”

My father’s eyes tighten on Noah’s face, and I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from placing a protective hand on Noah’s back, but Noah meets my father’s gaze with confidence. “You have interesting eyes,” my father notes almost casually. It takes all my willpower not to pull Noah away from him.

“Thank you,” Noah answers with a slight smirk, and I remind myself that Noah doesn’t need protection. He’s perfectly capable of blending in here, which is…an interesting characteristic.

“Come, let’s eat,” Father says with a lift of his chin. He leads us into the dining room, where my aunt and uncle are already seated with his two sons on either side of them. My father takes his place and I take the seat next to Esmerelda. I notice a bruise on her wrist that she’s tried to cover with makeup, and my chest tightens. Noah sits next to me and taps my knee with his underneath the table, which distracts me from my anger. We just have to get through tonight. I really shouldn’t have brought Noah into this.

A group of servants brings out appetizers, but before anyone can begin eating my uncle taps on his water glass, not that there’s enough of us to really need the formal call to attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Uncle Gianni says. As the head of the Carbone family, he instantly has everyone’s attention. We all reach for our glasses and wait.

“The future of the Carbones is here at this table tonight, and I want to acknowledge this. My son will be graduating this year and heading for Valmont soon. I ask that you, Eli, do as your brothers and cousins have before you and make him feel welcome.”

“Of course, uncle,” I say, and my father turns to smile at me, but it’s not genuine, and neither is my response. The younger Gianni, named after his father of course, looks as though he just stepped in shit. I ignore him.

“Salute,” Uncle Gianni says, and we all repeat it before bringing our glasses to our lips.

“Noah Andriotta, yes?” My uncle turns his attention to Noah.

“That’s correct,” Noah answers with that perfectly placed dip of his chin.

“We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Gianni Carbone.”

“Your reputation speaks for itself,” Noah answers. I catch the slight tightening of his eyes.

“Good things, I hope,” Uncle Gianni says with a chuckle.

“Of course,” Noah says with a smile that looks so genuine it almost fools me. “You run a lot of businesses here, and you’re quite obviously doing well.” I ignore the urge to cut my eyes to Noah.

“Ah, so you understand,” Uncle Gianni says with a smooth curl of his lips. “I don’t suppose I know any Andriottas. Where is your family?”

“Noah’s family is from the West Coast,” I answer for him. I feel Noah tense next to me, but I don’t look at him. “Portland.”

“Well, that would explain it,” my uncle says. “I’ve heard you and my nephew have become quite close.”

“I suppose you could say that,” Noah answers with a chuckle. I don’t think he missed the veiled threat in my uncle’s words. “Eli has been very kind to me as a newcomer on campus and in the city. He’s really helped me learn how to navigate Montcove.”

“I can understand that,” my uncle says. “Despite its size, Montcove has something of a small-town mentality. It can be hard foroutsidersto get acclimated.”

“It’s been a bit challenging, I admit,” Noah says with a chuckle, either oblivious to or ignoring the challenge in Gianni’s words. I want nothing more than to leave right now, but I know that will only make things worse for Noah. This was a huge mistake. I’ve painted a giant target on his back. I focus on steadying my breathing as my chest tightens.

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