Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

by Lux Miller

  Muscular arms encircle my waist, and Royce’s expression of surprise tells me instantly that they don’t belong to anyone who should be touching me. Despite the heads-up warning, I still find myself pinned against a hard body whose grip on me is unrelenting. I squirm against the man’s grasp as he tugs me against himself, his hot breath tickling my ear. “How about Prince Charming, instead?”

  Royce shakes his head quickly at the unwelcome advance and says, “Man, I don’t think that’s a good idea… you really don’t want to mess with this woman.”

  The muscular wall that has me pinned bounces with laughter as a deep voice rumbles, “And who’re you? The lady’s guard dog? I’m sure the pretty little thing can speak for herself. So, what do you say, sweetheart? I have a keycard that can have your name on it. Care to join me upstairs so I can show you something truly magical?”

  I grunt as the arms tighten around my waist. This feels more like a demand than an invitation, and my heart skips a beat at the memory of Parker holding me the same way. But unlike with Parker, my arms aren’t bound behind me. I jerk one free of his grasp and angle my elbow down as I thrust my arm behind me. Sometimes it pays to be short.

  The man behind me groans as his grip loosens, and I pull away from him. As soon as I’m a safe distance from him, I whip around and stare him down. To my surprise, he looks strikingly familiar. He’s tall with the same dark brown, almost black hair of the Barresi siblings. I can’t see his face at the moment, because he’s doubled-over with both hands clutching his crotch. I guess I’ve got pretty good aim when I’m blindly flailing body parts around. Serves the asshole right for being way too forward.

  Blood rushes in my ears as the man jerks his gaze up to me, fire burning in his eyes. I don’t know if he’s pissed that I turned him down or that I clocked him in the nuts, but I get the feeling from his rage-filled expression of surprise, that neither happens very often. It’s unnerving to see such a familiar shade of blue set into the face of a stranger.

  I take a step back from him as he straightens, a scowl twisting an otherwise handsome face into something grotesque. He takes a step forward, and I instantly match him with another step back, but my progress is halted by a strong hand on either side of my waist. My left hand instinctively goes to the one on my side. I puff out a relieved breath as my fingertips brush over the cool metal of a wedding band. The familiar, heady scent of Luca hits my nostrils, and it takes everything in my being not to turn around and leap into his arms.

  I somehow find the constitution to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground and my gaze locked on the man’s before me. Luca clears his throat behind me, and his voice is level, but filled with warning as he greets the man. “Diego. I see you’ve made yourself at home at my party. Aunt Miriam said you might find your way to New Orleans. I take it you’re enjoying the entertainment?”

  Diego adjusts his crotch visibly, but does nothing to disguise the disdain he’s directing at me. If looks could kill, Luca and I both would be in for it right now. Wait, did Luca just say ‘Aunt Miriam’? I turn to face Luca with an expression of shock on my face before turning back around to look at the offensive man. Goose flesh prickles my arms as Luca slides his hands slowly down my sides, over my hips and down to the hem of my shorts. He clears his throat as he fingers the edges of the fabric. “So, you’ve met my cousin...”

  My poker face must not be very strong, because Diego crosses his arms across his chest and frowns at me, his eyes narrowing to slits as he huffs. Diego clears his throat. “I see you’re still cock-blocking all the attractive women. What’s a dude gotta do to score in this town?”

  Luca chuckles and possessively wraps his left arm around me, resting his hand flat against my stomach with his fingers splayed out over the delicate lace of my romper. Diego’s eyes flash with recognition just as Luca states, “For starters, don’t mack on my wife. You should know better than anyone that I’m not a forgiving man.”

  Diego holds both hands up, stammering, “Hey man, no harm intended. I didn’t even know you were married. Which, congrats by the way… I’ll just--”

  Luca holds up one hand and Diego instantly shuts up. Interesting to know that Luca wields power beyond la famiglia. Unless, of course, this cousin is la famiglia, but I’ve never seen him before. And Luca implied that his immediate family were the only biological members in la famiglia. With the exception of his grandfather, of course, who, despite being incarcerated, still pulls strings from prison.

  “Stop, Diego. Why are you here?”

  Diego opens his mouth to respond and Luca shakes his head. “Don’t give me the bullshit excuse that you just happened to be visiting and thought you’d steal your way through a few socialite beds. I wasn’t born yesterday, and if you remember, Dante pioneered that gig when you were still playing with GI Joes.”

  Rolling his eyes, Diego sighs. “Fine, I have a message for you from my brother. But I won’t discuss it in front of her.”

  To my surprise, Luca nods in agreement. He leans down and kisses the top of my head, but I slide out from under him and whirl around to face him. “Luca, I know the nature of your business is secrecy, but what can your cousin possibly need to tell you that requires all this cloak and dagger? I thought you trusted me?”

  Luca swallows and glances at the floor, then at me. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Emily. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust my enemies. As we’ve been shown, as my girlfriend, you had a target on your back big enough for a drug lord to orchestrate your kidnapping and ransom to get to me. As my wife, that target will be bigger. And if you hold potentially valuable information as well, you’ll never be safe.”

  Luca leans down and kisses me soundly, ending any protest I might’ve been mounting. The kiss is desperate, short, and messy, but I can’t manage to say anything coherent when he pulls away from me. “Give me ten minutes to talk to my cousin and you ‘ll have my undivided attention for the rest of the night.”

  I narrow my eyes up at him. “Promise?”

  Luca nods, “I swear it, my lady.”

  I sigh as I watch Luca walk off with the guy who rubs me the wrong way. There is something about his impish charm that I don’t trust. I don’t know what it is about him, but he sets off my heebie jeebie meter in a way that I can’t explain. Maybe it’s his strikingly similar looks to Dante that has me unnerved. I mean, I’ve heard the stories of Dante’s past, but it’s not a good thing to see a man that looks almost just like your best friend making the same mistakes that nearly ruined your best friend’s life. What better way for life to remind me with a slap in the face that you can’t outrun your destiny? And it makes me fear that one day in the not-too-distant future, Luca may face the one thing he fears and it may not be something he can escape…

  As Luca disappears around a corner with Diego, I try to minimize the attention that Diego’s stunt centered on me. I wave shyly at people, then snatch Royce’s hand and jerk him over to a crowd of people where we can slip in and try to blend in.

  Royce chuckles once we’re safely encased in a gaggle of giggling women talking about the suave Luca lookalike who crashed Luca’s party. “That one sure knows how to make an entrance.” Personally, I think he looks more like Dante, but these women seem twitter pated over the possibility of someone who looks like Luca being available.

  I roll my eyes and wipe my hands on my side, trying to wipe away the icky feeling that still clings to me. “Royce! Dude damn near felt me up. The nerve…”

  Royce nods with a stupid smirk on his face. “Tell me about it. A man that knows what he wants and goes after it.”

  I glare at Royce. “Spare me the details of your torrid fantasies. I’m pretty sure he’s into women, and I don’t think he has very much discretion. I bet he’s a walking STD.”

  Royce shrugs and shakes his head, “For shame, I tell ya. All the cute ones are either taken or straight. Or both.” He looks at me pointedly, then continues, “Where can a guy find a decent dude these days?”

/>   I can’t help but laugh at Royce’s boldness. I pat him on the shoulder. “You’ll find one someday. Who knows, maybe you’ve already met and the fates are just messing with you. Or maybe Mr. Dreamboat just doesn’t realize he’s gay yet.”

  Royce shrugs and nods sadly, “Yeah, maybe. He doesn’t even have to be gay. I can totally deal with a man who likes pussy too.”

  “Royce! We’re in public! Keep the vulgar talk to a minimum. I swear. I can’t take you anywhere!”

  Royce blushes and nods, waving off my comments. “Sorry, it’s just been a while.”

  I smile and hand him a bright purple frilly drink with a dainty umbrella sticking out of the top. “Cheers, Royce!”

  Royce nods and drinks about half of the fruity liquid before disappearing into the crowd with a wave of his hand. I pout and take a sip of my drink, and I’m about to call him out for leaving me when a shadow falls over me. I turn around quickly and find myself looking up at a serious-looking Luca.

  I offer him a sheepish smile and set the drink down on a nearby table. “That’s the first one, I swear…”

  Luca shakes his head and takes my hands. “I’m not concerned with the drink, but we need to talk.”

  A pit forms in my stomach, churning the overly-sweet alcohol I just consumed and making me feel sick. I nod sullenly, a look of worry blooming across my face. I don’t know what I’ve done to make him mad, but there’s thunder all over his face, and I feel like I’m going to be zapped by lightning any moment. He tugs me into a private room and I find myself staring at his clothes.

  I didn’t pay much attention to what Luca was wearing earlier, but now that I’m avoiding his scowl, I can see that his suit is a dark navy blue accented by a pale purple button-down shirt underneath. The look is topped off with a navy tie and a pocket square in the exact shade of the silk shirt.

  “Emily, look at me please. This is important.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip and glance up at him, my breath catching in my throat at how blue his eyes look right now. Normally, they’re almost marble-like in their gray hue, but right now, they’re reflecting the color of his suit in a way that makes my heart thud against my ribcage. I’m nervous as hell for what he’s about to tell me, but there’s no way I’m going to admit how much my insides are twisting with anticipation.

  He gives me an uneasy smile and takes both of my hands. “The news that Diego had for was very unexpected, and it’s something I need to pass along to Dante and the other men as soon as humanly possible. But, I needed to tell you first.”

  Blood is rushing through my ears as I stand there, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

  He leans down to me and kisses me unexpectedly. I don’t stop him, but I can feel that he’s trying to prepare me. Whatever he has to say, it’s going to change everything. As he abruptly tears his lips away, he rests his forehead against mine with a heavy sigh. “Emily… my grandfather is dead…”

  I gasp and he tightens his grip on my hands. “Luca… I’m… I’m so sorry…”

  Luca nods, exhaling heavily. “So am I, but not for the reason you would expect. With his death… I am now…”

  I jump back from him, my eyes as wide as saucers. He still has a hold of my hands, but he looks downright terrified of my reaction. My voice is soft, barely above a whisper, “...the Don.”

  He nods, closing his eyes. My entire body shudders and I drop to one knee in front of him, bowing my head in a show of reverence. I’m not on my knee for five seconds before Luca pulls me to my feet, shaking his head wildly. “Emily, you bow to no man… least of all me…”

  I swallow hard and stammer, “But… but you’re the ruler of the criminal underworld…”

  Luca nods, his voice steady as he looks dead at me and drops to one knee himself. “And you are my equal.”

  My heart leaps into my throat as Luca produces a black velvet box, holding it up in front of me. He cracks it open and nestled inside is the most unusual, stunning piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen. It’s a platinum band with an enormous solitaire diamond in the middle. Flanking it on either side are delicately carved skulls in a black metal that matches the ring he’s now wearing on his own finger. Weaving in and out, and around the skulls are rose gold vines, each entwined with its own tiny, but crystal-clear diamond.

  My right hand flies to my face as he takes my left in his. “You have owned me from the day you barreled into my life and turned everything I thought I knew upside-down. You are the only woman on this planet who has ever made my heart beat in time with theirs. I prayed for an answer and God sent me you.

  “And it terrifies me that you could affect me to my very core. I breathe for you, Emily… you give me life in a world of death and I can think of no other woman that I’d ever want beside me on the throne of New Orleans. Marry me, Emily… the right way this time, in front of God and men alike… surrender to me and I will worship you as my queen until I take my dying breath…”

  EPILOGUE

  If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be standing here, in a side dressing room at Saint Louis Cathedral wearing a one of a kind Royce Collins creation and preparing to marry Luca Barresi, I’d have probably laughed in your face and called you mental. Yet, here I am. In fifteen minutes, I will step into the Cathedral aisle and make the long walk to my future.

  Technically, Luca and I got married months ago, but we never got the chance to declare our vows before God and his family. My parents have both been gone over a decade and I have no brothers or sisters of my own, yet my side is brimming with people that I’ve met since crashing into Luca’s life. Some are associates, others are wealthy socialites, and some are acquaintances I’ve met through Luca’s influence. I know that they’re really here for Luca, but it’s sweet that he thought to share his overflowing pews of guests with me, so that my side wouldn’t be barren.

  Royce is making last minute touches to the custom gown he painstakingly created from ten thousand Swarovski crystals and hundreds of bolts of imported silk and lace. Honestly, I didn’t have a grand vision of what I wanted my wedding dress to look like. I skipped over the daydreaming part of childhood where I dreamt of my future like that. I was just trying to survive to get there, and I sure as hell didn’t care what I wore.

  When I agreed to marry Luca, he told me that I had complete control over every aspect of the wedding, but he did have two requests in regards to my dress. His first wish was for my dress to reflect the Catholic traditions of modesty. Meaning he was requesting the dress to cover my shoulders and have a train befitting the aisle of a Cathedral. Royce squealed when he found out he got to design a Cathedral length train - he said it’d always been a dream of his and boy did he deliver. The bodice of the dress is made from vintage Italian lace laid over the finest silk fabric I’ve ever touched. The skirt is full, without the traditional princess pouf, but the train goes on and on and on. That’s where all those crystals went and when the light hits it just so, it literally sparkles.

  Luca’s second demand was that I was never allowed to see the bill for anything connected to the wedding. Not the cake, or the caterer, or the florist… and most certainly not for the dress. Not that Royce would ever tell me, but I did try to bribe him into giving me a hint more than once. The only hint he gave me was that I probably could have bought a house for less than the cost of the gown I’m now wearing.

  I exhale nervously as I check my reflection in the mirror. Even my stubbornness can see that I look about as close to perfection as I’m ever going to look. My hair has gotten long and Royce accentuated its natural curl so that it twists in on itself in nineteen-fifties perfection. It’s not as light as it used to be, but I haven’t been spending as much time outside as I used to either. For that matter, though my skin is still honey-colored, it’s lightened several shades to the point where if you didn’t know about my Hawaiian heritage, you’d never guess I’m biracial at all.

  Despite my nerves, Royce has worked his magic and I look pretty much ethereal. And
he reminds me every five seconds as we step out of the small dressing area. He grins as he holds up my bouquet and his, waving them around like an excited schoolgirl. “You ready to take their breath away?”

  I offer Royce a small, practiced smile as I nod nervously. “Too late to change my mind about it, huh?”

  Royce chuckles as he straightens his magenta bow tie. I can’t help but laugh to see that he has literally bedazzled it and it sparkles at his throat. It’s a perfect addition to the plum colored suit he designed for himself the very night I asked him to be my man of honor. He giggled and accepted before I even had the invitation completely out of my mouth. Noemi nudges Royce playfully and we both turn to look at her in awe.

  She may be young, but pregnancy is becoming on her. She’s finally out of her morning sickness and is actually enjoying her pregnancy right now. She should be enjoying it, because she’s literally glowing and her little belly has begun to protrude enough that she can no longer hide the burgeoning life growing inside of her. Luca and Dante have largely forgiven Kyle for the impending arrival of their nephew. That’s right. Noemi and Kyle’s baby will be a little boy and I think that everyone’s adjusting to the idea of having a new, little life around.