18. Giada
Giada
Chapter eighteen
“You’re doing great. Yup. Like that,” Gemma, Alessia’s best friend, comments as Alessia and I spar on the mat she brought over four days ago. We’re set up in the living room again while Luca and Finn are downstairs in the gun range doing a little target practice.
Being a dancer has helped me learn the moves the two women have spent their afternoons teaching me. I’m already accustomed to bending my body in ways that don’t feel natural and picking up on different moves after only a couple of demonstrations. Learning all of this is similar, except for the force I have to put into it. I’m not trying to hurt anyone in dance, quite the opposite, so I struggle with using the strength in my body to do so.
“Let’s take a break,” Alessia says before grabbing her water and taking a long pull from the bottle. “I have to say, I’m rather impressed at how well you’re picking up on everything.”
I preen a bit at her compliment. Alessia has stopped by nearly every day to work with me on either target practice or with Gemma to work on self-defense moves. I’ve never had someone care so much about me being able to take care of myself—or care about me at all, really. My brother, and who I thought was my father, sure as hell never wanted me to learn how to defend myself. They wanted to turn me into the perfect little Mafia wife. It’s astounding that a man as powerful as Mario Amatto was the one to teach his daughter how to handle a gun and support her training in boxing and all different kinds of martial arts. She was raised in the same world as me but so different. It makes me wonder about my real father, the one Francesco killed alongside my mother. Would he have made sure I knew how to handle a weapon? Would he have taught me the things Alessia knows now? There are so many things I’ll never know about him. I don’t even know what he looks like and it’s not as though I can go searching through my mother’s things. Everything was thrown out except her records that were in an old forgotten box when she died, as though Francesco didn't want me to have anything of hers that would bring me comfort.
“Gemma, you’re coming tonight, right?” I ask. Tonight is Alessia’s birthday dinner at the Monaghans. It will be the first time we’re leaving the penthouse in over a week. I’m a little nervous about it if I’m being honest. Not about being outside of these walls; I’m excited for that, but about spending time with the Amattos and the Monaghans. We haven't seen Maeve and Cormac since the first day we were here. I think Luca is a bit nervous as well. His family wants to get to know him, but there’s so much about his past he’s afraid to share. Like the fact he doesn’t hate the man who raised him. Luca has been struggling with merging the two men in his mind, the one who killed his parents and the one who cared for him and didn’t want him to have anything to do with this life.
Gemma rolls her eyes. “Of course I’ll be there. It’s Alessia’s birthday party.”
“Ugh,” Alessia groans. “Don’t remind me. I’m sure there will be plenty of talk about how I’m not getting any younger, and Finn and I should start thinking about having a family. We haven’t even been married for six months and my mother and Maeve are already salivating over the thought of grandchildren.”
Gemma gives her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know that’s a tough subject for you.”
I’m curious about why she says that, but I don’t pry.
“Well, you’ll have me to steer the conversation,” Gemma says brightly. “And as long as Eoghan stays out of my way, there won’t be any bloodshed.” Her wide smile is in stark contrast to her violent words.
“You don’t like Eoghan?” I ask, curious about the dynamics I’ll be walking into tonight.
“Oh, come on. Finn told you he was playing a joke on his brother at our wedding. Eoghan had no idea who that girl was,” Alessia says.
“Fair. But it’s not as though that makes Eoghan a saint. I swear, every time he’s around, it’s like he’s undressing me with his eyes.”
“Does he make you uncomfortable?” I ask. The idea that the goofy little brother could cause a woman to feel discomfort in any way surprises me. It doesn’t mean it’s not true, but it’s hard to imagine from what I know about him.
“She’s uncomfortable because he’s the exact kind of guy who she usually drools over.” Alessia laughs and Gemma sends her a scathing look.
“Exactly,” Gemma says. “I’m done with fuckboys. He’s all about the chase and getting what he wants.”
“I think you both want it,” Alessia mumbles.
“Shut it, lady. What I want and what’s good for me are two very different things, and it’s time I started focusing on finding serious relationships, not spending my time chasing losers.”
“Eoghan is pretty far from a loser,” Alessia comments.
“He’s also pretty far from being the type to settle down and take a relationship seriously,” Gemma retorts.
I watch the women banter back and forth lightheartedly, and a pang of sadness hits me. They remind me of me and my cousin back in Italy. God, I miss her and my family there.
“Let’s try to keep the claws sheathed. I love my mother-in-law and would hate for her to have to clean blood out of the carpets. It’s such a pain in the ass.”
Gemma grins. “Okay. I’ll do it for Maeve.”
The elevator doors open and Luca and Finn step out. My husband wears a smile I’ve been seeing more and more lately. As though he’s finally able to be happy now that he can be around his family and not have to hide behind the mask he wore at my house. It makes me regret that he had to hide himself for so long when he worked for my father. I know he doesn’t see it like that, though. He was doing what needed to be done for his cousin and himself.
Of course, there’s still this living, breathing tension with not knowing where my brother is. But in these moments when we’re surrounded by family and friends, or it’s just us, the tension eases, and Luca is allowed a few moments of peace.
Although when he notices me in a tight tank and workout shorts Alessia bought for me, his gaze is anything but peaceful. His hungry eyes sweep over me while his tongue wets his full bottom lip like he’s imagining what I taste like on it.
“I had a car sent over for you and Giada. Figured you didn’t want to drive that old jalopy you came here with,” Finn says, breaking Luca out of wherever his thoughts went.
“Sounds good,” my husband replies, his eyes moving to his cousin.
Luca and Finn move the mat to the far wall of the penthouse and set the living room back to rights before Finn grabs his wife’s and Gemma’s bag and they say their goodbyes.
After the door closes, Luca’s eyes find me and the heat he doused when his cousin spoke to him is back in full force as he stalks toward me, grabbing me around the waist and pressing my body into his body. “Fucking hell, sweetheart. It's a good thing I’m not the one working out with you. I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you.”
“That’s kinda the point,” I say, leaning up to kiss him. “You grab me, and I try to get away.”
“Wanna try now?” he whispers against my lips before gently grazing them over the damp column of my neck.
“Not even a little,” I reply, sliding my hands under his shirt. “But right now, I need to take a shower.”
“Mmm, You wanna know what I need?” His hands travel to the waist of my shorts and he dips his fingers just inside the elastic band.
“What?” I ask, having a very strong feeling of what it is.
“I need to taste you coming on my tongue.”
Luca’s lips travel from my neck to my chest as one of his hands comes to the neckline of my tank, yanking it down to expose my breasts to his waiting mouth. He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking hard, his other hand delving inside my shorts, two of his fingers spreading me as he rubs my clit between them.
“God, that feels so good,” I moan and clutch the skin of his neck, digging my nails into the heated flesh.
Luca backs me up to the backside of the couch and releases my nipple with a pop before lowering to his knees, kissing and licking my chest, stomach and hips on his way down, needing to taste every inch of me.
I’ve discovered a side to my husband that I never would have guessed was there. He’s filled with passion and a drive to make me come every which way he can. This particular position is one of his favorites, him on his knees, desperate to eat me out.
He pulls my shorts down and helps me step out of them before his mouth attaches to my center. I’m immediately overwhelmed by the feel of his hot mouth on my delicate flesh.
“Mmm, baby. Just like that. Ride my face.”
My hands clutch the back of the couch as my hips writhe over his tongue, grinding myself into his face.
The two fingers rubbing my clit slip inside of me as his tongue starts flicking over and over, first with just the tip, then he takes a long lick up and down, the change in tempo keeping me on the edge of orgasm.
“Luca, please,” I cry out, throwing my head back, desperate for him to make me come.
His chuckle vibrates against my flesh and he’s working hard to bring me to the peak as fast as possible, which for me isn't long at all. His skillful tongue is licking right where I need him. Then he curves the two fingers inside my wet channel and rubs over the bundle of nerves inside of me.
“Ahh,” I scream out as my orgasm tumbles through me, making my belly clench and my thighs shake as each wave crashes through me.
Luca rips his mouth from me. “Fuck, I need to be inside of you.” He stands and whips his shirt over his head before he roughly spins me so I’m facing the back of the couch and places my hands back on the top. “Hold on, baby.”
In one thrust, he’s buried himself so deep. The sudden intrusion takes my breath away. Actually everything about my husband has a tendency to make me breathless.
His movements are rough and possessive, unlike the times he’s taken me gently while we’ve both been coming to terms with the maelstrom of emotions threatening us in every silent moment. Now he’s taking what he needs and giving me the same. I need him unbidden and unafraid to remove the kid gloves and fuck me like our sanity depends on it. I need the brutality because it tells me he knows I can handle every part of him.
“God, I’m so close,” I cry into the room as his damp chest curls over my back, hearing the slap of wet flesh.
His fingers reach around to where we’re connected and he feels where his hard cock is moving deliciously inside of me, collecting the wetness there before strumming my clit. The touch is all it takes to set me off again, and I scream as another orgasm rushes through me, lighting my entire body on fire.
“Fuuuck,” he yells when his cock jerks inside of me, and he empties himself on a roar.
The sound of Luca’s panting breath is loud in my ear in the otherwise silent space. It’s in moments like these where the outside world feels so far off, and the only thing that matters is this little slice of happiness Luca and I have created for ourselves. The place where we can lose ourselves in each other like any normal newly married couple. You know, the ones that didn’t run from their psychotic brother and had their bodyguard marry them so they didn’t have to marry the son of a powerful criminal, only to find out that their new husband is part of a criminal family that hates theirs and has been working for years to bring them down. Jesus, this is all such a mess.
“I’m still buried inside of you, wife, and I can practically hear you overthinking.” Luca pulls out and kisses the back of my neck before standing straight and pulling my back to his front, wrapping a comforting arm around my middle.
“I’m a little nervous about spending time with your family, to be honest.” I turn my head toward him and look at his flushed face.
“I know, sweetheart.”
The first time we met, everyone seemed friendly, but I’d be lying if I said the years I was programmed to hate the Irish didn’t leave me with lingering doubts. And I fucking hate that. I have to remind myself nearly every day that I was lied to my entire life by a man who wasn't my father, who basically stole me for his own gain. Nothing he told me was true.
The Irish aren’t the monsters I’ve always been led to believe. I lived with the real monsters.
“Come on,” I say after standing in the living room for a few moments while Luca rubs small circles with his thumb over my belly. “Let's get cleaned up.”
When we pull up to the Monaghan’s large two-story house painted white with black shutters, several cars are already in the drive.
“Full house,” I mumble.
“Think of it this way; it takes the pressure off us a bit.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. I’m the daughter of the Monaghans and the Amattos’ number one enemy, and you're the long-lost cousin who’s secretly been trying to take down my family. But sure, we can go with that.”
“Look at me, Giada.”
I turn my body toward Luca, who I'm sure is facing the same nerves as me, and here I am, thinking about how I’m being affected and not my husband. I’m really killing it with this whole wife thing.
“We’re Luca and Giada Bennetti. None of what you said defines us. It may be our circumstances, but it’s not who we are.”
“Who are we?” I whisper.
“We’re figuring it out.” He leans over the console and places a soft kiss on my lips. “Come on, sweetheart. I got you.”
When we knock on the door, Maeve opens it with a wide smile on her face. Looking into her blue gaze, I see what everyone says about the Monaghan eyes. Luca, Eoghan, and Finn all share the same blue eyes.
“Come in, come in,” Maeve says, leaning in to give Luca a hug, then me.
“They would if you gave them a chance to step through the door, love,” Cormac comments, stepping behind his wife.
Maeve playfully smacks him in the arm. “I’m excited. Sue me.”
Cormac laughs and gently pulls his wife out of the way before stepping to the side to allow us entrance.
Walking into the large family room, I spot Alessia and Finn on the couch, with Gemma sitting across from them next to Lilliana Amatto and her husband, Mario. Eoghan is perched on the arm of the couch next to Gemma, who seems to be leaning away from him and doing her best to ignore his presence. The group sees us in the doorway, and everyone stands, welcoming Luca and me with kind smiles. When Lilliana and Mario greet us, their expressions are open and warm.
Lilliana leans in and kisses both of my cheeks. “Congratulations on your marriage, Giada,” she says in her light Italian accent. “Mario and I were thrilled when we heard the news.”
I smile in her direction, not really knowing what to say and wondering if she’s aware of the circumstances surrounding our union.
Mario leans in next, kissing both cheeks like the Italians do. “It’s good to see you again, Giada. Happy to have you here.”
“I’m going to check in with the cook. Dinner should be just about ready,” Maeve announces and walks out of the room.
“Drink?” Eoghan offers, walking to the small bar against the wall.
“I’ll have a glass of red wine if you have it,” I reply, and Luca asks for whiskey.
Small talk ensues, mostly about sports. Turns out Alessia and Mario are huge Red Sox fans and Finn is a die-hard Yankees fan.
“I’m sorry, Papa. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to convert him. Please don’t hold it against him. I’m sure in time he’ll see the light,” Alessia jokes with her dad.
“I just don’t understand how you can be born and raised in Boston and like”—Mario fake coughs—“the Yankees.”
“He’s a disgrace to the family,” Eoghan interjects. “See, Alessia? You chose the wrong brother.”
Finn shoots his brother a glare that would make most men wither, but Eoghan just lets out a bark of laughter.
Maeve comes back into the room and announces dinner is ready. We all gather in their large dining room to see a beautifully set table with a large arrangement of red calla lilies as the centerpiece. Finn and Alessia share a knowing smile before she mouths, “I love you.” His finger gently swipes across her red lips, then he leans in to kiss her softly before pulling her chair out for her.
Once we’re all seated, everyone begins passing trays of food around the table. It’s so different from the dinners I’d had growing up. Everyone here is family, made evident by the comfortable conversations taking place around me. I don’t know why I was ever nervous about coming tonight. This isn’t some formal, stuffy affair. It’s a family eating together, celebrating one of their own on her birthday.
“This veal is amazing,” Alessia tells Maeve.
“Finn said it was one of your favorites,” she replies.
It's amazing to me he knows that and his mother made her favorite for her birthday. The most I remember is one of my nannies baking me a cake when I was little.
Tears threaten to prick my eyes when I think about how I’ve missed out on having a family like this my entire life. I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the lump that suddenly appeared. Luca’s hand finds my thigh, and he squeezes gently. When I meet his gaze, he smiles slightly and gives me a wink. Yeah, he knows what I’m feeling. It’s unexpected and overwhelming but in the best way.
After everyone has finished eating, I offer to help with clearing the plates, but Maeve waves me off. “The cook will take care of it. I actually wanted a minute to talk with you, if you don’t mind.”
Unsure of what she has to say, I nod and follow her into another room next to what looks to be Cormac’s office.
Maeve leads me into a room with bookshelves lining the walls. There’s a small desk in one corner and a pale-gray overstuffed chair in the other that looks like the perfect spot to curl up with a book.
“Cormac set this space up for me. We went to dinner at the Amattos’ one night not too long ago and I fell in love with their library. I’d been hounding my husband to build me one, and I think seeing Mario’s lit a fire under his ass.” Maeve chuckles. “Never let it be said my husband will stand by and be outdone by an Italian.”
“Our families certainly enjoy showing off our wealth.” I think about the difference in our estate and the Monaghan’s. Granted, I haven’t seen where Finn lives, but Maeve and Cormac’s house, even though it’s huge, has that comfortable, lived-in feel, not the cold museum I grew up in.
Maeve walks to the other side of her desk, pulls out an envelope and stares at it for a few moments before shutting the drawer and walking toward me.
“I met your mother once,” she starts, and I can tell whatever she’s about to tell me is going to be hard for her. “She found me at church one day after I attended a Wednesday mass. When she introduced herself, I had no idea what to expect. Our husbands were not business associates; quite the opposite. Your mom was so…nervous but determined for me to hear her out. She gave me a letter to give to you when I had a chance. To say I was surprised she came to me is putting it mildly. I told her I may never get the opportunity to speak to you and she said she knew it would find its way to you when the time was right. From one mother to another, she asked me to keep this for you. She was worried that she wouldn’t be around to explain things to you. I asked if I could help her, but she said she had everything handled. This was a just-in-case situation. Quite the long shot, if you ask me. But she had this knowing look in her eye like she had faith that one day I would meet you and be able to talk to you.”
Surprise and shock have my head spinning as I listen to her. She met my mother before she died?
Maeve lets out a huff of air. “Cormac absolutely forbade me from approaching you. Said it would do nothing but cause problems, and we already had enough of those with your father.” She hands me the letter. “I know what she did the night Luca disappeared. I can’t say I forgive her for telling Frank to leave with my nephew, but part of me understands. To raise children in this life…is a decision not everyone is comfortable with. I’m sure there’re plenty of people who think we raise murderers and thieves. That we were having kids to churn out more criminals. But that’s not what this life ever meant to me. It’s not only my husband and our boys that live by their own code. I do too.” Maeve gives me a sad smile. “I’ll never fully understand what was going through your mom’s mind that night, but I won’t keep this from you. Our mistakes are ours, and you and Luca don’t deserve to pay for anyone else’s sins.”
I take the letter from her hand and immediately recognize my mother’s handwriting. I don’t move, don’t breathe, just stare. I haven't seen her handwriting since she died.
“I’ll give you a minute,” Maeve says, squeezing my arm on the way out.
I nod absentmindedly, still staring at the envelope in my hand. She leaves, and I sit on the edge of the overstuffed chair and open the envelope. When I unfold the note inside, there’s a picture tucked in the paper. It’s me when I was probably barely one and a man holding my arms up like he’s helping me stand. He’s smiling into the camera. It matches the wide, toothy grin on my young face. He’s dressed in the usual uniform of one of the guards, white shirt, black pants, and a gun holster around his shoulders. It’s his smile that captivates me. It’s not just wide like mine is in the picture—it looks exactly like mine. My hands shake as I start reading the letter.
Dearest Giada,
Oh sweet girl, how I hope you never read this letter. If you do, it means I’m not there with you, living a happy life far away from Francesco. It will mean that he found out about my plan to leave him and this life. I can only pray that he kept you safe as best as he could and he never discovered what I have spent the last six years hiding from him. Francesco isn’t your real father. Your real father is the man in the picture with you. His name is Marco Talesio. He’s my personal guard, and we didn’t mean to, but we fell in love. He doesn’t know you’re his. I was too afraid if he knew, he wouldn’t be able to hide the truth. It kills me every day to not be able to be honest with him. But if I am and Francesco finds out, it will mean death for us all. Although if this letter finds you, it means I’m gone.
Marco already loves you so much, my sweet baby girl. This is the only picture I have of him and it’s my favorite of you. You have his smile and his big heart. I can see it in you now and you’re only five. I’m so sorry I won’t see you turn into the woman you’re going to become. I’ve made so many mistakes, Giada, but falling in love with Marco isn’t one of them. Having you will never be one of them. He was the only man I felt truly happy with, and I hope one day you can find the same. If you never read this letter, then it means you have a shot at it. If you do read this letter, then I’m not sure what your future will hold. But know I will always love you and your brother, even if I’m only able to watch over you from heaven.
I love you so much,
Mama
Tears are pouring down my face as I read her words. Carlo told me all of this over the phone, well, most of it. But seeing it in her words—in her handwriting—there’s none of the disdain that was in Carlo’s voice when he explained Francesco wasn’t my real father. My mother loved my real father and wanted a life where we would be safe away from the clutches of this world and Francesco.
A knock sounds at the door, and Luca peeks his head in.
As soon as he sees the tears dripping down my cheeks, he rushes over and kneels in front of me. “What’s going on?” he asks, cupping my cheeks in his strong palms. “Did someone say something to you?”
I shake my head and hand him the picture. “This was in a letter my mom asked Maeve to give me.”
Luca’s eyes scan the letter. “Why would she ask Maeve?”
“I don’t know. She was probably the only person my mom didn’t have to worry about reporting back to my father.”
He looks at the picture, then to me. “This is your father.” It’s not a question.
“His name was Marco.”
Luca gathers me in his sturdy arms and holds me, letting me cry. Is this how he felt when Frank showed him a picture of his dead parents that he never had the chance to know? Completely devastated and missing something to the very marrow of your bones that you never really had? Because, it turns out, not only do I have more in common with my husband than I could have thought, I have more in common with my mother.
I’ve fallen wholly and completely in love with my bodyguard.