Page 67 of Luca
“His father and I were very good friends.”
I nodded once.
He extended his hand and I put my palm into his big one.
“Mr. Marchetti,” I said with a smile. By this point, my cheeks hurt from holding a smile for that long. “Thank you for coming.”
Luca appeared out of nowhere, his arm coming around me to rest on my side.
“We’re certainly honored,” Luca added in a cold tone.
My eyes darted between my new husband and Mr. Marchetti. He seemed important, but I had never heard his name before. Not during my stay in Italy and not back home. Yet, I’d stake my life that he was part of the underworld. There was a harsh ruthlessness about him despite his easy manner. It was in the ghosts lurking in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, stepping closer, until he towered over me. It wasn’t hard. He rivaled Luca in his size. His eyes traveled over my pregnant belly. “You’ve been busy.”
My cheeks flushed. Luca’s palm came to rest gently against the swell of my belly.
“You know what they say,” Luca drawled. “No better time than the present to have a baby. And now that we’re married in front of God, we are back in His graces.”
I kept my smile frozen on my face. Italians were very religious, and I didn’t think Mr. Marchetti appreciated being mocked.
“Your Nonno tells me you’re taking over the DiMauro empire,” Marchetti remarked, casually changing subjects. “And you’re no longer a King.”
Luca’s hand gently rubbed my shoulder. Up and down. Up and down. The movement was comforting.
“That’s right. My wife and I will go back to New York. I need to liquidate some businesses there and line up coverage. Then we’ll be back here to live for most of the year.”
“Wonderful.” Marchetti smiled, a ruthlessly gorgeous smile. His eyes came back to me. “I am looking forward to meeting your daughter and watching her grow up.”
His interest in my daughter threw me off. I tilted my head, studying him. He didn’t look away, a smoldering challenge in his cool gaze full of determination.
“Enrico, thank you for putting in the word and supporting my wishes to see my nipote married in church.” Nonno diplomatically eased the tension. “My Penelope and wife are happy up in heaven watching over them now.”
“Of course, considering she was almost my mother,” he mused. When I gave them a confused look, he explained. “My father and Nonno had the grand idea of tying our families together by having my father marry Penelope. Unfortunately, that never happened.”
“It didn’t interrupt the peace we had going for decades though,” Nonno said, his cane knocking against the ground. “We will cement our long lasting relationship now.”
Mr. Marchetti nodded, then the two continued their discussion in Italian. With their attention away from us, Luca and I took a step back.
“What was that about?” I muttered under my breath, while keeping a smile plastered on my face. “Who ishe?”
“Enrico Marchetti is a very prominent figure in Europe and in the world,” Luca said, not really explaining anything at all.
We went for another dance before being interrupted by a disturbance, from a little girl’s scream, in the far corner of the garden. Everyone’s eyes darted to the back corner where a fight seemed to have broken out.
A little girl hung on the back of one boy, her fists pounding on him.
“Let him be,” she screeched, her gold spun curls bouncing as she kept hitting him. “Get away from him or I’ll… I’ll bite you,” she warned, her eyes desperate on the four boys.
“It seems four boys have ganged up on one, and the girl decided to fight for the underdog,” Luca noted amused.
I grabbed his hand. “We have to help.”
Tugging him along, we rushed to the increasing audience surrounding the spectacle. By the time we muscled our way through the crowd, the fight had ended.
The little girl was held up in the air by her father. At least I assumed it was her father. She kicked, as if she wanted to go at the boy again. Her hair was wild, framing her heart shaped face and her hands were curled into little fists.
My lips curled into a smile. She couldn’t be older than five and she glared at the twelve-year-old boy, threatening him.
