Chapter 4
Four
Luca
Once Nikki returns with Zeke, standing against the wall, she keeps him quiet and calm.
There is a set of wedding rings on the bookshelf that we are provided, and I slide a gold band on Harper’s ring finger as I say the required vows.
I can barely look at her.
Her eyes are on me, but I look everywhere but her face.
The pain rips at me, scolds me. This is wrong, but letting her marry Ashton, I could never allow it.
Once the ring is secured, I move my hand away, refusing to touch her for a second longer than necessary.
She shifts the weight on her feet.
Harper clearly isn’t happy.
None of this makes me happy, either.
I’m still dressed in jeans and a sweater.
Harper’s not even in her wedding gown. The moment feels like we’re being robbed, but at the same time, I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
Dante recants the vows that Harper must say as she takes my hand and slides the ring over my finger.
Her hand is warm, while my fingers are ice cold.
I want to pull away, but she takes her time sliding the ring onto my finger, over past my knuckle, and she holds my hand as she says the required words.
The weight of the band is heavy, and I stare down at the mistake that will forever stare back at me.
This isn’t a celebration of love.
It is a ceremony meant only to join us in marriage, a legally binding contract.
Nothing more.
And within minutes, we are wed.
“You may now kiss the bride,” Dante says.
Glaring, I glance up at my father. “Is that a requirement to be wed?”
I have no desire to kiss Harper, let alone touch her.
From now on, she can sleep in Zeke’s room.
Dante glances at my mother. “I do not believe so,” he says.
“Very well.” I drop Harper’s hands, the rings burning onto our skin as I storm out of the library, needing air and plenty of space.
I head out into the backyard, the cold breeze a welcome after the unrelenting heat inside.
“How are you holding up?” Ashton asks as he steps outside after me. He hands me my jacket.
I take my coat from him, sliding it on over my shoulders, and walk to the edge of the porch, overlooking the backyard. It’s quiet outside but cold. I can see my breath.
Staring down at the gold band, I twirl it with my thumb. The movement is subtle, the band a perfect fit.
It’s just an object.
It doesn’t have to mean anything.
“That good, huh?” Ashton quips and comes to stand beside me.
“Yeah, well, no thanks to you,” I mutter. I turn my attention from the ring to Ashton. “Were you really going to marry her?”
“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to,” Ashton admits and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t have feelings for her if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“You used to,” I seethe, remembering when we were both crushing on the same girl.
It wasn’t so long ago, which has me skeptical that his feelings are truly gone.
But Harper is mine now.
Ashton is smart enough to abide by the mafia code. You don’t fuck with a brother’s wife.
Jealousy creeps in, and I’m not even sure I understand why I care, because Harper did everything in her power to destroy me.
“Used to is a long time ago. I have my sights set on a different girl at Evergreen,” Ashton says.
That garners my attention.
“Anyone I know?”
Ashton forces a tight smile. “She’s way out of your league.” He pats me on the back. “And you’re married, so she’s off-limits.”
I roll my eyes.
“Is this because I gave you shit all last semester about keeping away from my little sister?”
Ashton’s face goes slack, and he clears his throat. “I’m just saying, don’t worry about my love life when yours is on fire.”
“Seems like it’s a bit more frosty than fiery. I’m never taking her to bed again,” I grumble.
My best friend chuckles and eyes me with disbelief. “Hate her all you want; the best sex comes after that. I’ve heard the two of you going at it.”
“I’m not fucking her,” I growl.
Ashton throws his arms up into the air. “Fine. But if you won’t give it to her, some other guy eventually will.”
I glare at Ashton and shove him forcefully. “My wife won’t cheat on me.”
“Not at first,” Ashton says, “but come on. If you’re expected to be married forever, are you telling me you’re never going to dip your stick in someone else’s honey pot?”
I can’t listen to Ashton.
I storm back into the house and come face-to-face with Harper.
She’s cradling Zeke against her chest, rubbing his back in soothing motions as he fidgets against her.
I recognize the older gentleman speaking with Mom, and then he steps over, examining Zeke in the hallway.
He’s a pediatrician, was my doctor and Nova’s when we were growing up. I’m a bit surprised the guy is still practicing medicine, but he could have been brought out of retirement at Dante’s insistence.
I step toward the wall, leaning against it for support as I watch the exchange.
Is something wrong with Zeke?
He uses his stethoscope to listen to Zeke’s heart and lungs. Then he checks his ears, nose, and throat with his special light.
“I’ll take a culture,” I overhear as he grabs his bag and retrieves a long cotton swab. He gets Zeke to open his mouth, grabs a sample, and then hands the kid a lollipop.
Zeke was incredibly fussy on the drive back here until he fell asleep. I just figured he hated being buckled into the car seat and was protesting.
The doctor says something, jots down some notes, and glances at the test strip with the culture. I can’t quite hear him. A few minutes pass, and then he scribbles down a prescription.
The pediatrician wanders back over to Nikki, exchanging a few pleasantries before she escorts him out.
“Everything okay with Zeke?” I ask, watching as he sucks on the lollipop, his eyes still red from crying and his cheeks tear-stained.
“Looks like he has strep,” Harper says. “The doctor just gave us a prescription for some antibiotics.”
I grab the prescription from her. “I’ll run out and get his medication,” I offer, heading for the front door.
“Luca, you don’t have to—”
I’m gone before she can finish her sentence.
I need to get out, put some space between us. But when I get to the pharmacy, I realize I don’t know any of the information to fill the prescription.
What insurance does Harper have for Zeke?
What’s his date of birth?
Any allergies?
I’d call her, but my father still has her phone. He had one of his men grab it from the bus that she’d left it on.
I end up ringing Ashton, knowing that he’s still at the house. He’s not leaving without me, since I’m his ride back to campus.
“Where’d you run off to?” Ashton asks.
“Can you put Harper on the phone?”
“Your death wish,” Ashton jokes, and I hear the phone switch hands.
Zeke is making sounds beside the phone, making it harder to hear Harper. “I need some information for the prescription,” I say.
I have her walk me through the details as I fill out the form at the pharmacy counter. It takes longer than it should, and while I know Dante has a supply of drugs and medications in case of emergency, I’m not sure Zeke’s sore throat classifies.
Not to mention the prescription is an oral solution, not a pill.
Unlikely he has the right dosage and medication for Zeke.
She takes a photo of the prescription card and sends it to me. The lady at the counter is less than thrilled, but when I explain we’re newlyweds and our son is sick, she seems to be a little less heartless.
Twenty minutes later, I’m leaving with the prescription, and I grab a box of fruit-flavored popsicles for Zeke. They might melt on the way home, but at least they’ll numb his throat and maybe quiet him down so we can drive back to campus tonight.
When I get back to the house, I hand over the bag of medication to Harper along with the popsicles.
“For Zeke,” I say.
She opens the medication bag and administers the orange liquid to Zeke. He willingly takes it without too much of a fuss.
“Do you want a popsicle, buddy?” I ask, showing him the box with lots of colors and flavors. I let him point to the color on the box that he wants, which happens to be the hardest one to find, blue.
I tear off the plastic wrap, and he reaches for it, but so does Harper, holding onto the stick.
I have a feeling she’s going to end up wearing most of it.
“Are you ready to head back home?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’d like to put him down to bed,” Harper says.
“Let me find Ashton. Meet me at the front door in five.”
I wander through the house, finding Ashton in the library seated with Dante.
“We’re heading home,” I say, interrupting their discussion.
Dante sighs. “How’s Zeke?”
“He’ll be fine.” At least I hope he will. “We should get him to bed, though.”
“This weekend, bring Harper with you. We’re going to need wedding pictures. I also need you to sign this document,” Dante says and gestures toward the table.
It’s the marriage certificate.
Harper has already signed it.
Ashton has signed it as a witness, as has my mother. Dante signed it as the officiant.
Turns out, I’m the last to sign it.
My father shoves a black pen at me.
“Same as I told your wife, you’re not leaving until the document is signed.”
I scribble my signature and drop the pen on the marriage certificate.
“Happy?” I glower at him.
“Not particularly,” Dante says. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a cell phone. “Your wife’s phone that she left on the bus.”
I bite down on my tongue and take it from his possession, sliding it into my pocket.
“You can rest assured; there’s nothing incriminating on her phone.”
So much for privacy. “I wasn’t concerned,” I bite and storm out of the library.
Ashton is a few seconds behind me.
“We’re heading home,” I say and head for the foyer. I lace up my sneakers and slip on my coat.
Harper is helping Zeke get bundled before going outside.
I grab his little shoes and manage to finagle them onto his feet. It’s not an easy task with a squirmy toddler who is dripping blue popsicle all over the foyer.
Dante will be thrilled, but he has staff who will clean it up for him.
I can’t ever remember Dante cleaning anything himself.
Mom comes over to say her goodbyes to us, carrying the box of popsicles I left on the counter. “Don’t want to forget these for Zeke,” she says, like I won’t be back on Friday night.
I’ve seen her more in the past couple of months than I did all of my freshman year.
“Thanks, Mom. Did Nova head back to campus yet?” I ask. I hadn’t seen her around this evening, but maybe she’s holed up in her bedroom studying.
“Moreno drove both Kensley and Nova home this afternoon.”
“See you on Friday,” I say, giving Mom a quick hug goodbye. While I’m not looking forward to returning, I’m true to my word.
I have to help Dante with the business. I’m not sure which I’m dreading more, taking on more mafia responsibilities or taking wedding photos with Harper this upcoming weekend.
Zeke falls asleep in the car, and I’m grateful for the quiet moments as we drive back to campus.
Harper is seated in back with Zeke; Ashton is up front with me.
I have the radio on low, careful not to stir Zeke. Ashton glances at me but doesn’t say anything. He’s probably watching his words, considering Harper is in the backseat.
It was dicey today.
Tomorrow probably won’t be much better.
He turns the radio slightly louder to drown out his question when he whispers to me. “Do you think she’s going to try to run away again?”
I glance in the rearview. She’s staring at her sleeping little boy and doesn’t seem to be paying us any attention.
Honestly, I hope she won’t leave me.
It’ll kill me.
But I can’t know without a doubt that she won’t get scared and flee. She’s already left once.
“Can we not talk about it?” I glance at Ashton and then shift in my seat, sighing.
“Long day,” Harper says.
I’m not sure if it’s my body language, the heavy sigh, or Ashton’s question that has her commenting.
Did she hear him?
When we get back to the house, Nova comes darting out of her bedroom, as does Liam.
“Did you find Harper?” Nova quips and then her eyes widen when she sees Harper holding a sleeping Zeke in her arms.
“Sorry,” Nova mouths quietly.
Liam’s smirking, his arms folded across his chest as he lingers in the doorjamb, clearly amused by all of it.
Great.
Glad I’m fodder for him.
Another spectator in our forced marriage who is going to want details.
Liam doesn’t quite know all the details of what led up to the engagement, just that the marriage ended up being a necessity at my father’s insistence.
That’s all Liam needed to know to understand why I was getting hitched.
His father is also mafia; everyone who lives under our roof is either a child of the mafia or married into the family.
It’s why we’re all living together, and I suspect how we all ended up enrolled at Evergreen on full scholarships. There are no coincidences.