4. Massimo
4
MASSIMO
Luna Lombardi was interesting.
Straight black hair that fell to the small of her back, bangs that framed her delicate face, big gray eyes, small lips, and a small nose—she looked like a doll.
A breakable doll that I didn’t fucking know what to do with.
And I was fucking enthralled.
Fuck, but where had the Lombardi been hiding her? Surely she had men asking Andre for her hand in marriage the minute she turned eighteen, but she was twenty-three and unwed?
Were the Lombardi clan just fucking blind?
Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to question it because from the moment I laid my eyes on her, Luna Lombardi was mine, and no other fucker was going to take her from me.
My fist clenched around the fork before I forced myself to relax my grip. Jesus Christ. Since when was I led around by my dick?
And with the way she reacted to me, my losing control was the last thing she needed.
She was scared of me—that much was obvious, though she was good at holding onto her composure. I’d give her that.
She pushed the food on her plate around, barely eating. Not that anyone noticed. She didn’t talk for the entirety of the meal, and she barely looked up at anyone.
She seemed to draw into herself as if trying to make herself as small as possible to not draw any attention from anyone.
An impossible feat if you asked me. She simply outshined everyone, including her younger sister, who was the complete opposite of Luna.
The girl was confident of her footing in the world, perhaps a byproduct of having doting parents, but why was Luna so different if that was the case? Did her parents not dote on her as much as they did Lina?
My eyes moved to the younger sister. She ate her meal without a problem. She must have felt my gaze because she looked up and smiled slyly at me.
I didn’t react.
How… interesting.
Wasn’t Lina Lombardi the one I was supposed to marry?
I nearly grimaced at the thought. Luna was already younger than me by ten years. At twenty-three, she was still too young, too na?ve to the world to be married to a monster like me, but at least she wasn’t a cocky nineteen-year-old who thought she ruled the world.
I shook my head. One look at Lina and I knew she was trouble.
Luna was…
Hell, I didn’t know what to make of my future wife. Quiet. Reticent. Skittish.
I caught Elio’s eyes, sitting two chairs down from me. He was frowning. He didn’t agree with this marriage, mainly because Enzo had set it up. Which brought the question, why this family? Why the Lombardi Famiglia? I didn’t know, but I planned on finding out soon.
But first…
I had to get married.
And bed my virgin wife.
Hell.
The conversation bounced in and out of my awareness. I let Elio do most of the talking while I observed Luna.
She must have felt my attention on her because she stilled her movements, looked up and met my eyes, and went bright red before looking back down at her plate.
I meant what I said. I didn’t want her to be scared of me. Unlike my father, I didn’t believe in ruling over my family through fear.
In my opinion, there was no room for that under a household.
But I knew what I looked like. And I knew she must have heard things about me—something I was goddamn proud of.
The only way to rule the De Luca Famiglia was to instill a healthy dose of fear in my men. But this might not fare well with my wife-to-be.
And with my need for control…
I shook my head and went back to my food, barely tasting it.
“Massimo.”
I turned to Andre when the fucker said my name. His beady little eyes took me in. I didn’t trust him. Even without the fact that he was clearly working with Enzo, there was something shifty about the man that raised all my hackles.
I kept my expression neutral and turned to him.
“The trip might be short, but you must be tired. You haven’t even touched your drink.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Lombardi?” I asked with a smirk.
His skin flushed an ugly shade of red. Nothing like how Luna looked when she blushed. But then again, Luna wasn’t his daughter. His stepdaughter in name… although, wouldn’t it be more apt to call her his niece?
“Why would I want that? I am simply trying to be a good host.”
I grabbed my wine glass and brought it to the light, taking in the color. “A good host. Yes, I could certainly see that. Wouldn’t you say so, Elio?”
My brother took a small sip of his drink before he answered me. “Yes, I agree. Although, I think we’re too formal with each other. After all, we’re going to be family.”
“Yes,” Andre said, grabbing onto that. I wondered why he was trying so hard to kiss my ass. “Family. And may this marriage bring you lots of sons to help you defend all that’s yours.”
Luna’s breath caught at that, and I looked at her, wondering why she would have such a strange reaction.
“A daughter would be just as nice,” I said mildly. Did she not want a son?
Beside me, Emilio cackled. “Sure, but I think it’s best to have both daughters and sons. Some to help with connections”—the fucker raised his drink to me—“and some to help run the family business.”
The man seemed happy, but only because he had three sons and two daughters. Though the oldest wasn’t even thirteen yet.
Luna’s shoulders remained tense. Fuck, how I wished I could read her mind then.
“Daughters,” Andre said, his voice taking on an odd note. “Daughters are good at forming alliances, but it is nothing compared to a son. Trust me. I have two of my own. It seems my wife is destined only to give birth to daughters.”
His wife looked down at the table, but not before I caught the look of hurt in her eyes. This was obviously a sore subject, and Andre blamed her for it.
“It’s the father who determines the baby’s sex,” Luna said, speaking up for the first time. All eyes turned on her, making her fluster. I raised an eyebrow at that. The girl hadn’t said a word since the start of dinner, but she chose to speak up now to defend her mom.
Not that the woman seemed to appreciate Luna for doing so. She was glaring at her daughter.
“Don’t you know not to speak out of turn?” Andre asked, his voice hard. His hand twitched, and I narrowed my eyes at it, wondering if he’d ever gotten physical with her. Based on her reaction to Andre’s words…
Fuck.
Andre turned to me. “I apologize. I tried my best to raise her, but sometimes, she needs a firmer hand. Something I’m sure you’ll work on once she comes to Las Vegas with you.”
Luna tensed, her grip on the fork tightening from Andre’s words.
“How I conduct my business with my wife is of no concern to you,” I said.
No one said anything. I was contradicting the man in his home. But Luna was mine. She was mine the moment Andre decided to give her to me. And I would be damned if I allowed another man to raise a hand to what belongs to me.
I would be damned if I let any harm come to her.
Luna slowly raised her eyes and took me in. Her brows pulled together in a small frown as if she couldn’t decipher what I was saying.
Andre laughed. “ Lo Spietato of Las Vegas, no? I think there wouldn’t be a problem with Luna acting up in your family.”
Romeo frowned at Andre’s words, and it looked like he was about to say something, but I shook my head.
Emilio cracked a small smile, and I didn’t say or do anything to contradict them.
Luna was back to staring at the food on her plate, but she was no longer blushing. Her face was pale, almost as if all the blood had drained from it. Besides her, her sister grinned happily, as if the thought of Luna being miserable—no, not miserable, but in pain—truly made Lina happy.
I looked over at her mom. The woman didn’t look to be feeling anything.
Fuck, but what had this girl been through in this household?