Chapter 18 Leo
LEO
Sora did a beautiful job of planning the dinner announcing my succession.
As a more intimate affair than our wedding, she set it up to start with drinks in the drawing room and dinner in the formal dining room—like we did for our rehearsal dinner.
And while her touch is less distinctly feminine than she and her mother chose for the wedding, her choice of decor for the evening is full of elegance and sophistication.
I can see the value in her eye for detail, the style she brings to the evening, with a selection of high-end Japanese whiskey to round off the selection of Italian wines and light, pre-dinner hors d’oeuvres.
Even the don looks impressed as he eyes the accents of candles and small glass vases of flowers set around the room to give it a warmer ambiance.
Sora even hired a harpist, who sits subtly in the corner, her evening cocktail dress a shimmering navy fabric that both makes her invisible and catches the eye whenever I glance over.
Sora herself looks stunning in a forest green dress that’s almost revealing enough that I could have picked it out for her.
The silk skirt wraps around her hips in several layers, hinting at a deep slit over her right leg that has yet to show me anything higher than her knee.
But the heart-shaped bodice is something else entirely.
The ribbed corset is strapless, coming just high enough to hug her chest, with nude fabric beneath the rhinestones that are strategically sewn to cover and also call attention to her breasts.
Her dark hair has been curled and pinned up so it cascades over one shoulder, giving her a sense of modesty that the dress itself might not.
She’s put on her mask of makeup tonight, though it’s simpler than what I’ve seen before—just a dusting of foundation to soften her blush and a simple cat eye that makes her eyes more slanted and seductive.
The more I’m around Sora, the harder I find it to separate my use for her and my desire. Though our relationship around my family can be described as civil at best, when we’re alone together, the attraction is magnetic—and it’s growing harder to ignore at occasions like this.
“Your wife sure did pull out all the stops for tonight,” Miko observes as he stands near my left shoulder.
Swirling his Old-Fashioned, he watches the amber liquid chase the orange around the bottom of the glass rather than looking at the subject of his observation—a sneaky way of keeping a low profile while still having my back.
“She did,” I agree as our eyes meet across the room, and though the world might miss the subtle color that infuses her cheeks, it makes my cock start to swell. Lifting my drink in solute, I toast her silently, my lips curving into a smirk.
The soft smile she gives me in response makes my slacks that much tighter, and I clear my throat as I turn my attention to the drawing room door as it opens to allow another set of guests.
Sora’s family arrives, Kenji leading the way with Tatsuo and Aya a step behind him, and they turn immediately in my father’s direction, though Sora is closer.
I catch her eyes following their movement, a flicker of emotions crossing her face before her mask of cordiality is firmly in place.
I’m getting better at reading her, I think.
Or maybe her ability to hide her feelings is growing weaker now that she’s living in a house full of men who couldn’t stay silent about something even if they wanted to.
But I don’t have time to make my way over to Sora before the doors open once again, this time for the capo dei capi and his wife.
“Don Parelli,” I greet warmly as all eyes shift toward the guest of honor. “And your lovely wife. We’re honored to be hosting you all the way from Sicily.”
“It’s been too long since we’ve had an occasion to fly out to Chicago,” he says, grasping my hand and clapping me on the back. “I’m sorry we couldn’t make the wedding, though it would seem congratulations are in order. Where is this young bride of yours I’ve heard so much about?”
“Don Parelli-sama,” Sora says softly, inclining her head in a graceful bow as she appears by my side. “It’s such a pleasure.”
“Don Parelli, Signora Parelli, this is my wife, Sora,” I introduce, placing a hand on the small of her back as he firmly grasps her shoulders and leans in to kiss beside her cheeks.
I can feel her tense against my palm, leaning into my touch as if seeking reassurance, but she manages to get through the very Italian gesture without backing away and offending the don.
And when his wife does the same, tittering in a thick Italian accent about how beautiful my wife is, Sora starts to relax.
As thankful as I am that she’s good at maintaining her composure, I’m also selfishly satisfied by the fact that she would seek me out for comfort, and as she engages Signora Parelli in conversation while I converse with the don, I keep my hand at the base of her spine, relishing in the connection.
It doesn’t take long before my father arrives, the Tanaka family in tow, for introductions all around, and the group shuffles, Don Parelli and his wife breaking off to have an engaged conversation with my father and Sora’s parents when Don Augusta mentions the new potential business we’ve been negotiating.
“Nice party,” Kenji observes with a smirk as he looks around the room. “It would seem my sister’s managed to bring some class into your family after all.”
“Kenji,” Sora scolds softly, drawing his attention, and his gaze wanders slowly down to the flattering neckline of her dress.
“Well, it would seem you’ve had some influence on her as well,” he sneers.
Color tinges Sora’s face, but before either of us can respond, one of the staff members steps up to whisper in her ear.
Casting me a nervous glance, she quickly excuses herself to follow the server from the room.
My eyes track her movement, half enraptured by her beauty and mildly concerned by her inscrutable glance.
I imagine she would have said something if she wanted my help.
But a twinge of guilt twists my stomach as I wonder if I’ve been so unavailable that she would be too scared to ask for it.
Beside me, Miko’s eyes track her as well, his frown saying he picked up on her odd look.
“Follow her,” I command under my breath.
If I were to disappear as well, our guests might pick up on something being the matter, but Miko slips from the room so silently, despite his considerable size, that no one will notice his absence.
To my displeasure, Kenji lingers beside me, looking over the room of gathered guests as if he’s sizing them up.
The guestlist is largely made up of the prominent members of the Family, many who pay tribute to us directly or run branches out of other cities across the US, all who pay homage to the capo dei capi himself.
“Looks like tonight’s your big night, eh?” Kenji asks, that subtle sneer lingering in his tone.
“What makes you think that?” I let just enough sarcasm slip through that he’s sure to notice, then take a sip of my drink.
“Dons flying in from Sicily, New York, and Seattle. I’d have to be an idiot not to notice,” he says, and I let the silence stretch between us so he knows that’s exactly what I would consider him.
“All I’m saying is I feel so touched that you would invite me to the party to celebrate your finally becoming a man so you can take over the family business. ”
I know I shouldn’t let the comment get under my skin.
That’s exactly what he’s trying to do, and playing into his taunt will only make me look immature—which is exactly what he’s playing at.
But I can’t let him get away with it, especially if we’re going to make use of the Tanaka-kai in any sort of business arrangement.
Kenji needs to know he can’t walk all over us, and he’s desperately trying to test the boundaries to see how much he can get away with.
It’s because I married Sora. He thinks I won’t do anything for fear of offending her.
But my father’s words echo in the back of my mind.
“The Tanaka girl is supposed to be a tool so we can manipulate the Tanaka-kai, not some woman for you to develop feelings for.” She can’t be my weakness.
And the longer I let Kenji think otherwise, the less control I’ll have over the situation.
Turning to face my arrogant brother-in-law, I lean closer so only he will hear me. “Just because I have your sister to warm my bed at night does not mean I’m any less capable of humiliating your family, Tanaka,” I warn. “Don’t tempt me to prove it.”
Kenji scoffs, his eyes glinting as he sips his Yamazaki. “Do your worst,” he challenges softly, his smirk indicating that he’s ready to call my bluff.
Before I can respond, the sound of glass clinking draws everyone’s attention to my father, and Sora’s right beside him. She looks perfectly poised once again, not a hair out of place.
“Dinner is served,” my father announces, and Sora gestures politely as she offers to escort the Parellis to the dining room.
Miko makes his way back through the crowd toward me, his brows pressing together when he sees the look on my face, then his eyes flick toward Kenji, who saunters toward his parents as they follow the flow of traffic.
“Everything okay?” I mutter when he reaches me.
“Your wife had the fire put out by the time I caught up to her,” he says with a healthy dose of respect. “Everything good with you?”
“Not even a little,” I growl. “I’m going to rub her smug brother’s nose in the crap he’s been handing out.”