Chapter 20 – Luca
LUCA
When I finally release her, Sienna's lips are parted, looking dazed and drowsy, and her cheeks are flushed. She looks so achingly sexy and fuckable, that I wish I could drag her out of here right now.
Every man in the vicinity is studiously looking anywhere but at us, and I can feel their envy.
And their nerves.
Good.
I keep her pressed against me, one hand splayed possessively across the small of her back, and let my gaze drift across the room until it lands back on Sophia.
She's frozen mid-conversation, champagne glass suspended halfway to her lips, watching in horror as Tony makes his way to her from one side, with Nico on the other.
They’ll make sure she understands that if she ever raises her voice to Sienna again, let alone a hand, no prior friendship or business relationships will save her.
Unsmiling, I dismiss her entirely, turning my attention back to the woman in my arms. I made it clear to Sophia that our relationship was over, but it seems she hasn’t quite gotten the message.
"We’re almost done," I murmur against Sienna's temple, turning into her, not wanting anyone else to see the gleam of arousal in her bright eyes.
"You don’t have to leave on my account." She tilts her chin up, defiant even now, and pride swells my heart. Sienna doesn’t realize it, but she’s perfect for this. Feisty enough to hold her ground, yet soft enough to smooth out my rough edges.
I guide Sienna toward the far end of the ballroom, where four men have gathered, standing removed from the rest of the crowd. These are the ones who matter. The heads of the other ruling families who, along with mine, control everything from the ports to the politics in the Midwest.
They watch our approach with varying degrees of curiosity and concern.
"Gentlemen." I stop before them, keeping Sienna close. "I’d like you to meet Sienna Fox."
Conti extends his bony hand first, clasping hers with old-world courtesy. "Ms. Fox. I've heard a great deal about you."
I grit my teeth but don’t ask whether that’s from the news headlines or my father’s poisonous lies.
"Nice to meet you," she says, and I feel rather than see her nervous smile.
His hooded eyes crinkle with what might be genuine warmth. "I heard you were quite the hero at that unfortunate business at the restaurant. Helping Kate until the paramedics arrived."
Sienna tips her head shyly, accepting the compliment with graceful modesty, neither preening nor deflecting too hard, and I’m filled with pride. She's handling this better than I could have hoped.
Conti turns his attention to me. "Your father has been... vocal about recent events, how things should proceed." He glances toward Sienna.
Clearly, she is not part of my father’s plans.
I give the men a wry smile. "My father still likes to think he can control everything. Retirement will take some getting used to."
A ripple of amusement passes through the group, though nobody laughs outright. They all know the tension between me and my father. They've all, at various times, been caught in the middle of it.
“And while I appreciate his concern, this is my decision, not his.”
Two nods, not four.
I still have some work to do.
"Alfonso has suggested that with Kate's passing, the transition should be reconsidered. Or at least, delayed." Massimo, closer to my age than the rest and just as eager for modernization, chooses his words carefully, but I hear the question beneath them that he doesn’t ask.
He wants to know if I agree.
Over my dead body, will Alfonso pass the torch to someone else.
"My plans haven't changed." I scrutinize each of them in turn. "The transition should continue as agreed. Nothing that's happened alters what needs to be done."
An awkward pause. Marchetti looks at the others before saying what everyone else is thinking. “But Kate…”
Sienna slips her arm through mine and looks up at me adoringly. “Kate’s loss is awful, but there will still be a wedding.”
There are some raised eyebrows, but nobody comments. Which is good, because while she didn’t outright say that it will be her who’s walking down the aisle with me, she implied it.
And that felt fucking great.
"And the assassins?" Tommaso asks. "The Russians are the obvious suspects, and Mikhail Volkov has been notably quiet."
Unnervingly so.
"Because it wasn't the Russians. And Mikhail has no interest in a drawn-out fight."
I hope.
“You’re certain?” He seems dubious, dark brows lowered, and thick arms that a heavy weight boxer would be proud of, are crossed over his chest.
"We've ruled them out. The Irish as well.”
The stunned silence that follows hangs heavily.
“Which means someone has gone rogue. This was a personal grudge, not business." Massimo concludes, and I nod.
Gianni's eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "You can’t know this." The tendons in his jaws bunch. “Be careful what you say, Calvano. Those aren’t the kind of accusations you can throw around lightly.”
He’ll get no argument from me.
"Just as I won't be dragging us into a war based on assumptions." I let that land, watching closely for their reactions. "My father's feud with the Irish has cost us decades of potential profit and more than a few good men. I won't repeat that mistake."
My words are pointed. These men remember those years. The bloodshed, the losses on both sides, the time and opportunities squandered because of anger and vengeance from a fucking poker game that ultimately turned out to be misplaced.
Conti nods slowly, approval in his weathered face. "A measured approach is what is required, even if we’re anxious to see this matter resolved."
Everyone nods. Running vast networks of legitimate businesses allows us to operate the more lucrative, less legally palatable ones under the radar. The last thing we need is a war putting us all under the spotlight.
"It’s time for change, gentleman. My father agreed, you all agreed. Let’s not move backward."
Criticizing my father while he still technically holds power is risky, but these men respect strength and progress over blind loyalty. And we’re only discussing what the slippery bastard already agreed to.
Massimo clears his throat, looking briefly at Sienna before returning to me. "And Maeve O'Sullivan? No disrespect intended," he adds quickly, nodding to Sienna. "Won’t the Irish take issue with their alliance being... discarded… so quickly."
Sienna's fingers curl into my side, but she says nothing, letting me handle it.
"Maeve is aware of my relationship with Sienna. The arranged marriage is no longer possible; they have no suitable alternative, so I'm choosing my own bride. One I’ve wanted for ten years."
I pause, letting a hint of humor creep into my tone.
"Maeve didn’t murder me on the spot when I told her, which I take as we have her blessing."
Tommaso scoffs, the sound breaking the tension. "I still wouldn’t turn my back on her," he warns with a shudder.
We talk for a few more minutes, the conversation shifting to lighter matters.
Business ventures, upcoming events, the kind of small talk that oils the machinery of our world.
Throughout it all, I'm acutely aware of Sienna beside me, the warmth of her body, and the way she listens in, absorbing everything, and filing it away in that clever mind of hers to question me on later.
As early as I possibly can, I make our excuses, citing the late hour, a hectic few days and another long day ahead tomorrow. I’m keen to leave before my father arrives.
I’ll let the rumor mill fill him in on what’s going on.
Handshakes are exchanged and promises to meet again soon. As we turn to leave, Conti catches my eye. "Your father won't make this easy," he says quietly.
"I know. That’s why I’m seizing this opportunity while I can."
Appreciating my candor, he nods as I dip my head in respect.
"For what it's worth…" He glances at Sienna, then back to me with a knowing smile. "I think you're right. In all things. At some point, a man must make a stand."
Coming from Conti, who’s buried two wives and a son, it means a lot. He knows this world. How harsh it is. That you need to grab the opportunity for happiness while you can.
"Thank you." I grip his hand and give it a firm shake.
I guide Sienna toward the exit, staring straight ahead, unwilling to be waylaid by anyone else.
“Luca, what about the meal?” Sienna whispers, but I shake my head.
Fuck the meal. I’ve done what I came here to do, show everyone that Sienna belongs to me, and that my plans to take over are continuing, full steam ahead.
“Luca, cous–” My cousin, Orlando, attempts to stop me for a chat, his beady eyes taking in Sienna on my arm. “You must be the lovely…”
When a devious smile crawls across his face, he attempts to reach out and touch her arm.
I grab the front of his shirt, lifting him onto his toes as I twist it in my fist. “Lay a finger on her, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
He glances at Sienna and laughs nervously, brushing himself down when I release him with a hard shove. “Now, now, Luca. I know you might not want to share your new… friend, but we’re family.”
I step into Orlando’s space and tower over him, casting a quick glance toward his friend slash bodyguard loitering nearby. “The fuck we are.”
From the buzz I hear at the entrance, I can tell my father has just arrived. I press forward, and the crowd parts before us, conversations stalling as we pass, every gaze tracking our progress.
By tomorrow, every family in the region will know that Luca Calvano has chosen a new bride.
Now it’s time to let my father in on the secret.
“Luca.” His warm greeting grates on me like nails on chalkboard, but I force myself to accept his thumping embrace without glaring. “And Sienna. Well, well, well. I never thought we’d see you again.”
Sienna remains silent, her two hands clutching mine like a deer in headlights as Alfonso glares at her.
“We were just leaving.”