Page 66 of Luca
I didn’t want to venture into the topic of my mother. Not today at least.
People ate, laughed, and danced. Everyone seemed to be having fun, despite the fact nobody knew me. All in all, the day came pretty close to perfect. I danced with Nonno, then each one of my brothers. Even Cassio asked for a dance.
He stood, holding out his hand, and I reluctantly accepted. It wasn’t as if we hated each other, but somehow we always steered clear of each other.
The music drifted through the breeze and the two of us danced, keeping plenty of space between us. My baby ensured it.
Cassio and his brother shared a physical appearance. Anyone with two eyes could spot it. Apparently, I didn’t have two eyes because that day in Vegas, in front of the elevators and during that ride, it never dawned on me that I was looking at Cassio King. Luca was the only one I noticed. He must have hindered my observation skills.
Still, even with their physical resemblance, they couldn’t be more different. Luca was more impulsive and hid himself under layers of nonchalance. At least that was what I came to find over the last week.
Cassio, on the other hand, was cold and manipulative. Out of the two, Cassio was probably more likely to turn into their father. It was probably good for everyone in this world that he didn’t, because my gut told me he’d wreak more havoc than his father ever could.
“Don’t tell me you have nothing to say, Sister?” I stiffened slightly at that title. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to think of him as a brother. “Or would you prefer I call you sister-in-law?”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I said quickly.
He let out a breath. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
“You haven’t exactly earned my trust,” I answered harshly, then realized it wasn’t fair to lay all the blame on him. I made my mistakes willingly too. If I hadn’t acted recklessly in Vegas… Well, no matter. Ifs wouldn’t make any of this change. For once, I truly believed I was exactly where I needed and wanted to be.
We danced in silence, his steps slower for my sake.
“Your husband is glaring at me,” Cassio teased, tilting his head in Luca’s direction. I followed his gaze and sure enough, Luca had his eyes narrowed on his big brother, mouthing silently ‘Get a move on.’
I shook my head, smiling, then returned my attention to Cassio.
“How do you feel about his last name change?” I asked him.
He gave me a pensive look.
“Sad and happy.” I furrowed my brows in confusion. “I’m happy for Luca. He always hated all our association with the last name King. He was more our mother’s son then he was ever our father’s.” That certainly went along with the statement Nonno gave me. “Sad for me because I’m the only fucker left with that cursed last name.”
Okay, that was unexpected.
“Well, Áine has that last name now as well,” I reminded him softly. “And your children will. Maybe you can turn it around.”
“I hope so.”
He studied me, and it took all I had not to look away. He could be intimidating. The ink that marked his skin on his neck and hands gave off ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes. Luca didn’t have any openly visible ink, and I had to admit, I kind of liked that cleaner look. Although I knew without a shred of doubt, Luca was anything but a clean cut guy. He was a bad boy charm that could literally melt your panties.
I could vouch for it. Our little “picnic” was the hottest thing I’ve experienced in a long time. Picnic would never have the same meaning again.
“Anyhow, changing his last name to DiMauro is the right move. He’ll take over Sicily after Nonno and people will follow him. He has always been the happiest here. This is his home.”
It was all the confirmation I needed. Sicily felt like home too. Life certainly worked in mysterious ways.
Nonno cut our dance short.
He took my hand, then walked me around introducing me to everyone. His cousins. His distant relatives. And then the few remaining, living friends.
“This is Enrico Ferrara Marchetti,” he made an introduction. Two bodyguards lingered behind him. I craned my neck to meet his eyes and…whoa. Just whoa. I had never seen a silver fox before but this man was particularly close to one. He was handsome with broad shoulders that filled his three-piece-Brioni suit. Power rolled off his frame in waves.
Dangerous. Ruthless. He was important.
Nobody had to tell me that.
His piercing eyes drifted over me, that thick, dark hair with a hint of silver at his temples indicated experience. It contributed to the man’s appeal. It certainly didn’t take a single thing away from him.
