Handling His Chaos (Lords of New York #4)

Prologue

One day you will ask me which is more important – my life or yours? I will say mine and you will walk away not knowing that you are my life…

- Khalil Gibran.

Emilia

I pause outside the ballroom entrance and take a fortifying breath, smoothing my hands down the silk of my dress. Inside, music and laughter spill through the doors—the reception is in full swing. The ceremony was beautiful, watching Matteo and Sofia exchange vows, but now comes the hard part.

Avoiding Antonio.

The mammoth-sized guards flanking the entrance don't surprise me. This is, after all, a union between two of the wealthiest and most powerful families in New York City. Security at every corner is expected.

I can do this. I can walk in there, congratulate the happy couple, and keep my distance from the one man who makes my heart race. Simple.

Taking one more breath, I step through the doors.

I’m immediately inundated with the sound of music and loud chatter. The ballroom is a riot of color and movement. Tables draped in crisp white linen stretch as far as the eye can see, each decorated with towering floral arrangements.

There are people everywhere. Couples on the dance floor and groups huddled together in what I suppose is networking. People don’t come to a wedding like this and not make any business connections. The guests in this room have a combined net worth that could feed a small nation for generations.

I smile at the chaos, my eyes scanning the room in hopes of spotting my mother and twin brother so I can join them at their table.

That’s when I see…him. The smile freezes on my lips when I spot the one man I was hoping not to run into at this event.

He’s standing by a table, a wine glass in hand, eyes on the guests.

Antonio Rossi.

He’s wearing a dark suit, perfectly tailored, and a crisp white shirt.

My heart skips a beat, a familiar flutter of nerves and excitement settling in my stomach as I take him in.

The way the light catches the sharp angles of his face is something out of a dream.

He's as handsome as he was the last time I saw him a year ago, and he makes my heart race just as fast.

I thought I would have fallen out of love with Antonio Rossi by now. That I could look at those broad shoulders and that chiseled jaw and just…look away.

But I can’t look away.

No, I’m still as helplessly in love with him as I was when I was a teen and doodling hearts on my notebook—if not more. All these years later, and my heart still longs for a man I cannot have.

I smooth my damp hands down my dress, suddenly nervous. Coming here meant seeing Antonio. It is, after all, his brother’s wedding. I watched him stand at the altar beside Matteo during the ceremony, impossibly handsome in his suit, and I've been bracing myself for this moment ever since..

Ignore him.

I can do that, right? No. Yes! I can definitely ignore the man I have harbored a crush on for years.

So why are my feet still stuck to the floor?

I try to ignore the little pain in my chest when I realize that mine are not the only eyes locked on him.

He definitely has multiple women watching him… wanting him.

Christ, what is wrong with me?

“Emilia!”

My head whips around just in time to see a flutter of dark hair, thick and wavy, push through the crowd before a familiar face surfaces and a frown I wasn’t aware I was wearing lifts into a smile.

The pretty girl, a few inches shorter than me, with warm brown eyes and full lips, throws herself into my arms. I laugh as I rock back a step before we nearly topple over.

Her presence knocks the nerves right out of me, and for a moment, I forget about Antonio Rossi as I embrace his sister.

“Gabby.”

“You made it,” she beams, pushing back to look at me. "You disappeared after the ceremony. I was worried you'd left already."

"How could I miss watching the ever-serious Matteo Rossi get married? I had to see the woman who brought him to his knees."

The smile on her face drops a little as she looks around to make sure no one’s within earshot before leaning in. “You know it’s an arranged marriage, right?”

“Of course, I do,” I smile at her. “But I don’t think Matteo would have married his bride if he wasn’t drawn to her. When have you known your brother to do something he didn’t want?”

"This time it’s different. Papa threatened not to make him the don if he didn't choose a bride." Her eyes cross over to the bride and groom who are engaged in what seems to be an intense staring contest, and I notice her features change. "Maybe you're right. Something is going on between them."

I follow her eyes to the couple and nod.

Something is definitely up with them, however much they try to hide it.

Their bodies seem to subconsciously lean toward each other, and there are other little tells.

Like the way Matteo watches his bride, as if he wants to kiss her where they stand. Perhaps more.

I clear my throat and look away. “You look gorgeous, Gabby. Why don’t we find some place to sit and chat?”

I turn around to look for an empty table when Gabriella Rossi loops her hand into my arm and drags me away. I chuckle as she leads me past other tables and toward…

Oh God…

Oh…

"My brothers will be thrilled to see you. How long has it been since we last saw you? A year?” she asks, practically skipping to what I assume is the groomsmen table, seeing as three of the Rossi boys—men really—are seated there.

My eyes shift from the youngest brother, Lorenzo, then to Dante, and finally stop on the second oldest Rossi brother…

the one who’s owned my heart for as long as I’ve known this family.

I’m not ready. Sweet heaven, I’m not ready to talk to him just yet.

Suddenly self-conscious, I resist the urge to run a hand through my hair or fuss with my dress.

Do I look okay?

Shit, why is the lighting in here so bright?

Breathe. Emilia. Please don’t embarrass yourself by passing out! Slow and deep.

We stop next to the table, and I find my eyes moving to his.

It's a skill, how he's managed to look better every time I see him.

Closer now, I take in his chiseled jaw, shadowed by a dark beard, and those golden hazel eyes steal my breath.

A single lock of his raven black hair artfully falls over his forehead, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and smooth it back. Then kiss him.

No, I was wrong to assume that time would help me fall out of love with Antonio Rossi.

“Emilia!”

A voice bellows through the air and startles me out of my trance.

I watch as Leonardo Rossi rises from his seat, his teddy bear body making me smile with memories of how warm his hugs always felt when I was little.

Looking at him, no one would guess that he's one of the most dangerous men in New York City.

The elder Rossi has always been a father figure in my life, and at some point, I wished that he would marry my mother so I'd have him permanently in my life.

But then, that would have made me Antonio's sister, and the feelings I have for the man are not sisterly. Thank heavens that never happened.

“Ciao, Leonardo.”

“Oddio, who do we have here?" he booms, taking my shoulders and yanking me into a hug with nearly as much strength as his daughter did. “I’m glad you could make it, figlia mia. I know you’ve been very busy settling in.”

That he regards me as his daughter even when we’re not related by blood tugs at my heart. A twinge of guilt follows—I've noticed how he lights up around me in ways he doesn't always with Gabriella, and I've never understood why. She's his actual daughter.

Regret storms in viciously for waiting this long to visit the Rossi family. I’ve been in New York for a month and used work as an excuse to not go see them. After everything, the Rossis have done for me and my family…

Christ, I should have visited them sooner.

My gaze involuntarily moves to Antonio as I’m reminded yet again why I put off visiting the people who helped care for us when we had no one. I shouldn't have let my feelings for Antonio keep me away.

“You’re aging backward, Leonardo,” I tease, smiling when he laughs.

“Come now, you must dance with me and tell me how you like your new job at the hospital,” he says, taking my hand and tugging me toward the dance floor, leaving me no choice but to follow.

I pass my purse to Gabriella and follow Leonardo to the dance floor.

He holds my hand, and I feel the warmth of his touch as we begin to sway to the music.

The first thought that slips into my mind is how I’ll never get to dance with my father at my own wedding. Or even have him there.

Does he even know we exist? That he has two children out there in the world?

Mama told us he never knew about the pregnancy—she never even got his last name. Just a single night that gave her two children and a lifetime of raising us alone.

I shake off the thoughts as they come and instead focus on the man who helped raise us.

Leonardo smiles, and I can’t help but mirror the gesture.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you,” I start as we sway to the music.

“The apartment you found for me is perfect and with the most stunning view ever.” I don’t bother asking how a perfect apartment so close to my job conveniently “turned up” or why my lease is half that of my neighbors.

“I would not have made it this far without your help—”

"None of that," he scolds, good-naturedly. "You did all the work yourself, and now, I can brag to my friends that we have a trauma surgeon in the family. And all at the tender age of twenty-six. You’ve done well, mia cara.”

His kindness has never wavered—not since his late wife, Antonia, brought my pregnant mother into the Rossi home all those years ago. He's been honoring her memory ever since, caring for us as if we were his own.