Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
LORENZO
D i Matteo looked at me like he would rather put a hole in my head than welcome me into his house. Couldn’t say I blamed him. If I had a little sister as he did, I would kill any man with eyesight, and the ones without, just because of the odds of one day crossing paths with her.
Jesus! That was the best fucking smoke break I’d ever had. There was no wrapping my head around that one. She was innocence wrapped in a body that screamed porn star. Those lips, soft and luscious, were made to wrap around my cock. That thought alone had got me so turned on that I had to drop my eyes to harmless body parts like her feet. But the moment I saw those little toes painted in bright pink, I wanted to suck every one of them into my mouth and hear her groan.
Even as I burned the back of Di Matteo’s neck with my gaze, I followed him to his office, a little more eagerly than before. Still, I hoped it wasn’t this sister that my contract was with. She wasn’t doing wonders for my blood pressure, and my brothers weren’t interested in taking over as Don.
Vitale’s office was a library. Dark, all books, leather, and the distant memory of cigar smoke. Either he was an avid reader, or he wanted to avoid his old man’s office. Something told me it was the latter.
The air was stifling in the room of hard liquor and pent-up egos, and it only got worse the moment the door closed behind me. My two brothers, who’d used the front door like gentlemen, leaned against the window sill, projecting relaxation, but their trigger fingers grazed too close to their guns and betrayed their facade.
It amazed me that Di Matteo hadn’t asked for our weapons. I would have said he was a smart man. Any made man would have a hidden weapon on them somewhere. Except perhaps for Antonio Capizzi, the only neutral party in the game, if I could call him that since he was the old man Di Matteo’s consigliere . Whether he was of the new Don or not was yet to be seen. The rumor mill spoke of tension between the two. Still, Capizzi was a diplomat and was the first to stand up and shake my hand, even though his eyes were dark and his handshake tight. There was no recognition of the rare times we had had a meal together on foreign soil.
There were four other men in the room. The thought filtered through my mind that we would be outnumbered if it came to a fight, if we didn’t have the Martello attitude of flying first into one, and thinking later. Ah! Amusement slithered through me at the situation we were in. Only in the Cosa Nostra would we think of getting in and out of a fight at the signing of a marriage contract.
Capizzi introduced me to the other four in the room. An uncle whose name I forgot as quickly as I hoped to forget his protruding middle sticking out of his shirt, two cousins, rather boring and unworthy of remembering their names, and an outsider, a bodyguard, I got the impression. Who he was guarding, I wasn’t told. I was apparently not worthy of the information. I had a feeling it was my future wife. The first thing I would do was kick him out because his attitude warmed my heart as much as a snowstorm in the Arctic.
Di Matteo poured himself two fingers of whiskey and, at my nod, one for me. Capizzi took the seat next to me, facing the big leather desk, while the rest stayed behind us. I didn’t worry about it. My brothers had my back.
“Heard you had a pleasant flight.”
I met Capizzi’s stare. Ah, his driver was as loyal as he’d told me. “An excellent one.”
Di Matteo rounded the corner of his desk, put my glass in front of me, and sat down.
“Time to shut down on those.” His words were quiet and fell like dust on the table.
Di Matteo frowned in confusion. He didn’t look like he was privy to Capizzi’s information. So the Sicilian Cosa Nostra wanted to pretend we were all faithful men. Interesting. What I’d do to be a fly on these walls. Although these specific walls looked old and worn out. A stark contrast to my new and glossy penthouse.
I waited until Di Matteo took his first sip before I took mine. Whiskey warmed my throat but left my heart cold.
“Right. Let’s discuss business.” He took out the papers from his drawer. My peripheral view caught the bodyguard coming to stand behind him in the very corner of the library. Odd move. Di Matteo either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He put the papers in front of me. “Article one—”
With a flick of my fingers, I pushed the contract away. I wasn’t discussing anything before I saw the toll. He looked at me with a frown.
“I want to meet your sister first.”
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers running through his scruff. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Not when it comes to picking me a wife.”
Hesitation filtered through his face. They had similarities, brother and sister. Both shared tousled brown hair and sharp jawlines. His eyes were hazel bordering on green while hers had been blue. Nico had blue eyes but his were cold as ice. Hers had been warm. Hers had pulled me in with a tug. Jesus! When had blue ever been warm? Maybe hers had been bluish-green? Fuck! This Sicilian air wasn’t doing me wonders if I was deliberating colors.
“Luigi,” Di Matteo indicated to the bodyguard, “Get her.”
I immediately imagined the girl I saw with the name Daria as my eyes followed Luigi out the door. Something about his vibe was off, and it pissed me off that I couldn’t put my finger on it. An awkward silence followed while we waited. We weren’t friends, and I was too agitated for small talk. Di Matteo had the same idea, I guessed, and Capizzi couldn’t be bothered to break the tension in the air.
The door opened a few minutes later, and a girl followed behind Luigi. Disappointment sank in my stomach like lead in water. Confusion rattled me. The whiskey in my glass rippled. This one had my type written all over her. Straight black hair, big tits and an ass to match it. Fucking her from behind would be glorious. There was no confusing innocent porn star look going on, no messed-up brown hair, and definitely no warm blue eyes. She should have been exactly what I wanted.
Except she wasn’t.
She wore a white dress, but there wasn’t anything pure or virginal about her. For a brief moment, when her brother stood up and wasn’t looking at her, she looked straight at me with defiance rolling off her in waves. I didn’t know where they hid the timid future housewives in Sicily but it wasn’t in Di Matteo’s household.
He wrapped his hand around his sister’s elbow and pulled her close to me, reluctantly away from her bodyguard. It was more about the body than the guard, I was guessing. I swirled my chair around to face her.
“This is Orietta.”
I was missing a Daria in front of me.
A pink frilly dress colored my vision.
Irritation prickled across my skin. Di Matteo wasn’t the type to force his sister, but something was off here. She stood in front of me, hands clutched, looking at the marble floor with interest. Yet it wasn’t innocence I was reading.
“I want to speak to her,” I said
“She’s right here,” he scoffed.
“Alone.”
An awkward silence followed before the bodyguard’s mouth spilled, “Not going to happen.”
Can’t even say I was surprised.
Di Matteo shot him a glare. Glad he could see that was out of place. “Everyone out,” Di Matteo said, and silently, one by one, they filed out. Nico touched my shoulder before walking out. Stefano came to a stand next to Di Matteo as the room emptied.
“You too,” Stefano said and he nodded to him. After a slight hesitation, he gave a nod to his sister and left with Stefano, closing the door softly behind us.
The room swam in stiff awkwardness. Annoyance rubbed the back of my neck.
“Sit.” I pointed to the chair Capizzi had vacated. His half-drunk Amaro sat on the table.
“I’d rather stand.”
Right. Not a timid bone to be found in this one.
“Suit yourself.” I leaned back in my chair with my ankle resting on my knee. I watched her as I took a slow sip of my whiskey. It burned my throat as anger swirled in my stomach. What a fucking waste of time. There was no way she had agreed to this marriage, and I wasn’t in the mood to put up with this drama.
“Why’d you agree to it?”
She shuffled with her feet but kept her gaze on the floor. If this was how she wanted to play it. I was reaching my limit of patience.
“So, what…? You’re fucking the bodyguard and want out of this arrangement?”
Her head shot up, and her gaze landed on me. Dark, almost black eyes met me. I used to have a thing for them.
“It’s not—”
I waved my hand to shut her off. “Don’t take me for a fool. I don’t care whether or not you’re a virgin. You still fucking him?” I asked her tightly.
She didn’t have to answer. The heat rushing to her face screamed yes. I didn’t like being played, and that was what was happening. They got me down from New York for a woman who wasn’t ever going to be mine. I didn’t want a loving wife but I didn’t want to have to worry about her opening her legs for every bodyguard of hers. I realized the hypocrisy of it when I fully intended to fuck outside the house. But this wasn’t a two-way street.
My drink sloshed onto the table as I thumped it down and stood up. I was done here. I pushed the chair out of the way and strode off, to be stopped. My glance fell to the sharp nailed hands grabbing my arm and then to her. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” I asked tightly.
“Please,” she pleaded. “We need this alliance.”
“Should have thought of that before you opened your legs to another man.” I swatted her hands off my arm.
“It can still happen.”
I laughed cruelly. I didn’t know what she thought of me, but I wasn’t fucking another man’s mistress. “Don’t think so, sweetheart.”
“Just listen to me, please.” She dropped to her knees. Jesus. She was dramatic. “This is our only way out.”
The urge to leave her on her knees and walk out the door weighed heavy. Still, the curiosity in me made me utter the words “You have one minute.” Just like I wanted to be the fly on the wall mere minutes ago.
“I will never be a good wife to you.” No kidding. She rushed on at my impatience. “I’m not a virgin, and I’m with Luigi.”
“Yeah, what else is new?” I stalked off, but her next words stopped me with my hand on the door handle.
“Marry my sister.”
She rushed on as I paused. “She’s good wife material.” She let out a laugh. I could hear the love spilling out of her for her sister, whichever one she was. Not! “I swear.”
Ah, my curiosity would kill me one day, I was sure. “Which one is that?” I turned to find her cunning eyes on me. Manipulative to her bones. “I heard you met her already. Outside,” she said, a faint glint of darkness in her eyes. Couldn’t be love if she was sacrificing her sister like a sacred lamb. And that was what it was. No one gave their sister to me as anything but a sacrifice. If there was ever innocence in her, I would ruin her, break her, damage her. Because didn’t you know it? No amount of digging would find a kind bone in my body.
My jaw ticked as I contemplated her idea. Of course, I wasn’t going to agree to this. Good wife material, my ass. I’d seen the spitfire outside, and she was anything but that. Besides, I wasn’t allowing any woman to manipulate me. This deal was fucking off, and I was taking myself and my brothers back to New York. Maybe fuck that stewardess again. Go back to life as it had been. Like I’d wanted a wife in the first place.
So I yanked the door open and stepped out to the foyer filled with family. Everything had to be a big gathering in Sicily. There wasn’t a single breakfast, lunch, or dinner without some uncle or aunt at your table. I didn’t miss any of this and was more than happy to get back to New York.
My brothers were the only outsiders, and they stood to the side, watching the gathering like a crazy chicken show. Someone saw me and nudged Vitale, and he immediately strode towards me. My eyes caught on a cloud of pink seated at the window seat with headphones on. A cold awareness touched my back as the woman I was supposed to marry came to stand behind me.
“Everything alright?” Di Matteo asked, sensing the unease.
“Couldn’t be better. I am marrying her.”
The volume in the room dropped like bricks in the Hudson. Di Matteo’s face darkened and a woman’s breath hitched. The mamma, I think. Nico had a cold smile on his lips and Stefano was chuckling softly. What? All because I pointed at the pink cloud at the window sill?