by Cora Reilly
I should have said something, anything, but I was tongue-tied.
Gemma was frozen, lips parted. Diego always complained that she never stopped talking until she got her will, but with me, her stubborn streak rarely came out. Her head was still slightly tilted, her smooth neck exposed like her shoulder. Both spots beckoned to be kissed. I had already done both, however, when I should really stay away.
Like my brothers I wasn’t a rule player. What did I care about laws or traditions? Yet, Gemma’s frozen state showed how overwhelmed she was, how young and inexperienced. When I’d been sixteen, I had been a far cry from innocent. I’d slept with women far older, and they definitely hadn’t taken advantage of me.
Scruples hit me rarely. They weren’t really ingrained in my family’s DNA, but making a move on Gemma, knowing that she might let me go further because she was too overwhelmed, would have felt wrong.
Now that I knew she’d be mine, was mine, I felt entitled to protect her.
“Come on. I should return you to your father. Don’t want to start on the wrong foot with my future father-in-law.”
A smile bloomed on her face. “When’s our engagement going to be?”
Touching her back, I led her toward the bar. “We’ll see.” I had no intention of celebrating a big engagement party any time soon. Now that I had secured Gemma, there really was no rush. I didn’t want word to get out that I was taken. It would lead to more unpleasant discussions with the girls I fucked, and I really didn’t need that.
Gemma’s smile dropped and she didn’t say anything. Diego stood off to the side with his father and Nonna, a pissed as fuck expression on his face. I led her that way and smiled.
Nonna didn’t crack a smile. She was eyeing me like Lucifer personified. I had to stifle laughter. She’d liked me all right until now. I’d get her back on my side with my charm soon enough.
Diego and Daniele would be harder nuts to crack, no doubt. They were getting their bad cop act on.
“Remo said you and him would come over tomorrow to discuss the details of our family’s union,” Daniele said.
“That’s right.” Remo didn’t like to invite people into the mansion, even loyal followers, even future family.
Gemma glanced between her father and me.
Daniele gave a terse nod. “We expect you for dinner at six.” He motioned Gemma over. “Come on, we need to go.”
“I’m staying. I need to talk to Savio,” Diego said. Gemma sent him a warning look, but he ignored her. She didn’t have to worry. Diego couldn’t intimidate me.
Gemma followed her nonna and father out of the Arena, frowning.
“I need to shower and change,” I said, turned and headed toward the changing room. Diego fell into step beside me. “Dad mentioned you don’t want to announce the engagement to Gemma this year. What’s that about?”
“Why the hurry? She’s mine. We will marry. I think it’s unnecessary to get engaged to a sixteen-year-old. I’d prefer to wait until she’s a bit older.”
“What’s a bit older to you?” Diego muttered.
I had no intention of telling him that the engagement would have to wait until Gemma was of age at least, and the marriage even longer. Tonight was for partying, not arguing.
I pushed into the locker room, Diego hot on my heels.
Mick was still inside, talking to his brother and father. Diego let out a low curse. I only nodded a greeting. Mick probably still needed time to cool off, which I got. If I’d lost a girl like Gemma, I’d have been pissed too.
I was about to pull my shorts down when Mr. Cantucci came over to me, extending a hand. “Congrats on your victory. You and your brothers are admirable fighters. This is what the Camorra is about. You make me proud to be part of it.”
Mick lowered his head with a dejected expression. His brother touched his shoulder and sent me a hard look. I preferred it to Mr. Cantucci’s flattery, but I smiled grimly. “Thank you. The Camorra would be nothing without the men risking their lives every day like Mick and Diego.”
Those two had taken out a few Bratva hole-ups with me. Mick never fought in the forefront, but he didn’t shy back from danger either.
He raised his eyes, meeting mine. He was far from mollified but didn’t look ready to kill me anymore. After he and his family were gone, I finally stepped in the shower.
Diego perched on a bench, glaring at the floor.
“How about we celebrate my victory in a club tonight?”
His head shot up. “All right.” A hint of wariness swung in his voice. I brushed it off. He’d had his panties in a bunch for months now. Maybe now that Gemma was mine, he’d finally pull his head out of his ass again.
Once we hit the dancefloor in one of the Camorra clubs, Diego did loosen up. Drinks in hands, we checked out tonight’s offering. Soon a few girls we’d known from school came over. One of them, Dakota’s younger sister, Noemi. Diego groaned. “I hope her sister didn’t send her.”
“I doubt it. She’s got her eyes set on me, not you.”
Noemi stopped right in front of me with a coy smile. Her family had affiliations with the Camorra but even though she was part Italian, they weren’t members, not for lack of interest, but Remo hadn’t deemed them trustworthy. “Hey Savio,” she shouted, pressing into my side, not even glancing at Diego. He was being groped at by another girl.
“Do I get a wish?”
“A wish?” I took a sip from my mojito, scanning her from head to toe. Not bad.
“It’s my eighteenth birthday. And I’d like to see your bull.” She let out a giggle, her palms sliding down my chest.
Diego sent me a scowl. I doubted he could hear what she said. The music was too loud.
“My bull?” I asked with a grin.
She nodded.
Her flirting annoyed me for some reason. I had a feeling her and Dakota’s interest for Camorra men was orchestrated by their family. “I only take him out for a ride.”
She giggled again then pushed up on her tiptoes to reach my ear. “I’m going to ride him like a cowgirl.”
Her attempt to sound seductive turned out almost comical, but I was wiped out from two fights in a row, so chasing another girl would have been too strenuous. Her offer sounded like the perfect way to end this evening.
“My car,” I said with a nod toward the exit of the club. She flashed me a smile then exchanged a proud look with her companion, who was trying to chew Diego’s ear off from the look of it.
“I’m taking my bull for a ride,” I shouted to him.
Instead of the usual conspiratorial grin, his expression hardened. I didn’t linger on his bitchiness and led Noemi outside toward my new Bugatti. It wasn’t the most spacious car for a fuck. Shoving the passenger seat all the way back, I sank down and Noemi settled on my lap. Her eyes took in the luxurious interior of my car. I hadn’t brought her here for a study of automobile design, though.
Fifteen minutes later, Noemi was showing off her cowgirl moves—which reminded me of a drunk trying to do Hula Hoop—when someone hammered against my window. Noemi almost burst my eardrum with her screech, then proceeded to nearly break my fucking dick off in her attempt to scramble off my lap and clutch her clothes over her pussy.
Diego’s face loomed outside the window.
Rubbing my throbbing dick, I let down the window and cocked an eyebrow. “Fuck, Diego. Next time you feel like cock blocking, remember that I still need this dick to satisfy your sister.”
Wrong thing to say. He smashed his fist into my mouth. If it hadn’t been for my exhaustion and the worry about my affected cock, he’d never succeeded. Enraged, I landed a punch against his still fat lip before he could pull his head back.
Cursing, he clutched his mouth. I pressed my palm to my own bleeding lip. “That hand touched Noemi’s pussy and my cock before it burst your lip, asshole.”
Diego grimaced, then he nodded toward Noemi. “I’m going to turn around and you get dressed. I need to talk to Savio.”
&n
bsp; Since my dick was currently out of order, I didn’t kick his ass for sending my quickie away. Noemi pulled her pants on then handed me a scrap of paper with her number before she disappeared. I stuffed it in my pocket. Her skills hadn’t impressed me enough to warrant a repeat performance. Still, sometimes even I got desperate.
I got dressed then left the car, not even bothering to stop my lip from dripping blood all over my shirt. “What’s your problem?”
Diego shook his head, slightly bent forward to keep his shirt clean. “Really? You’ve got to ask?”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I’m not married to Gemma yet. If I remember correctly, I won’t have any kind of relationship with her before our wedding night.”
Diego straightened. “That’s not all there is to being in a relationship.”
“How would you know?”
“I dated Dakota.”
I gave him a look. If that already counted as dating…
“You are promised to each other.”
It took considerable effort not to roll my eyes. “And I’m going to keep that promise, but I’m not going to retire my fucking dick until I marry Gemma. I don’t give a fuck if that pisses you off.”
“Maybe you should think of her feelings,” he seethed, then turned around and stalked off.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to walk home?”
He only gave me the finger.
“That wasn’t Mick,” said Remo as a way of greeting when I got into his car so we could drive to the Bazzolis.
“It was Diego.”
My lower lip was swollen, but I’ve looked worse after fights. The ladies usually went crazy if I looked like that.
“Already trouble in paradise?”
“I haven’t been allowed into paradise yet.”
Remo let out a rough laugh.
When we arrived at the Bazzoli house, Daniele and his wife waited for us. Remo’s and my eyes went to her hand, which rested on her slightly rounded belly. Remo shook Daniele’s hand, then said to Gemma’s mother. “Congrats on your pregnancy.” She lowered her hand slowly then glanced to Daniele. His smile widened. “We haven’t announced it yet.”
“Our lips are sealed,” I said as I shook his hand then kissed Claudia’s. Remo didn’t touch her, which was probably for the best, considering how she watched him.
Diego hovered beside the set table in the small dining room, his lip even fatter than mine. He greeted me with a terse nod which I returned.
“Take a seat,” Daniele said. “Gemma and my mother will serve dinner in a couple of minutes.”
Daniele pointed at the chair at the head of the table—his place as master of the house. “If you’d like the honor, Capo?”
Remo didn’t even sit at the head of our table at home. He didn’t need the additional boost for his ego. He ruled over everything that mattered. “That’s your place, Daniele. I’m a guest in your house.”
Daniele’s expression flickered with admiration, then he nodded and sat in his usual chair. My brother and I sat to his right with Diego beside me.
When Gemma emerged, I almost snorted with laughter. She was wearing her most conservative church dress. A plaid gray atrocity with long sleeves despite it being summer and a skirt that reached her calves. The worst thing was the bow and the collar though. Gemma’s hair was pulled up into one of those Amish updos. When everyone was busy arranging the pots on the wooden table, I leaned toward Remo. “If that outfit doesn’t scream Do Not Touch, I don’t know what does.”
“Heed the fucking message then,” he said in a harsh whisper.
Gemma stopped beside me and motioned toward the biggest pot. “Would you like some rabbit stew?”
“Sure, but I can take it myself.”
A small smile tugged at her lips but her Nonna cleared her throat and Gemma reached for the ladle to fill my plate, then proceeded to do the same for Remo, Daniele, and Diego before she took the seat across from me.
All right, I was a lazy bastard, but this kind of behavior had to go as soon as she was officially mine. Even Kiara, who was submissive as fuck, rolled her eyes when I asked her to fill my plate.
Gemma didn’t look at me once during dinner. It was starting to drive me completely insane. I could tell that the demureness of the Bazzoli women rubbed Remo the wrong way, but he wouldn’t interfere in other people’s family business. I nudged Gemma’s foot under the table, and finally her gaze met mine. I raised an eyebrow. She motioned with her eyes toward her Nonna who was watching me like a hawk.
Sending Nonna my most charming smile, I only got narrowed eyes in turn. Nonna was going to be my biggest adversary, I could tell.
After dinner, the women went into the kitchen to clean the dishes before I had a chance to get a word with Gemma. Diego, Daniele, Remo and I settled on the small porch with a glass of the expensive whiskey that Remo had brought as a gift.
After Remo had laid out the plans, mainly waiting with the engagement at least until next summer and with the wedding until Gemma had finished college, the atmosphere could only be described as frosty.
Daniele shook his head for what felt the hundredth time. “I don’t understand the need for college. No one from our family has ever attended college, and I don’t see why Gemma would need it. She’s going to be a wife and mother, and she already knows everything to be good in both jobs. She can cook, clean, stitch, iron…”
I knew one thing she definitely couldn’t do yet, but I kept the words to myself.
“I realize we don’t share the same beliefs,” I said because I could tell that Remo was growing tired of this. Bartering about marriage wasn’t his thing. “But we can agree on one irrefutable rule. As Gemma’s future husband, my word is law. If I want her to attend college, then she’s going to do it.”
Daniele still didn’t look happy. “Your word will be law from the moment the engagement is official, yes.” He turned to my brother again. “Still, it’s not like your wife attended college, Remo, so why my daughter?”
That was the wrong thing to say. Remo didn’t talk about his family, ever. His men usually knew better than to mention Serafina or the twins in his presence. “Because,” Remo said in a harsh voice. “We say so, Daniele.”
Daniele realized his mistake, thank Fuck, and nodded. “All right. But I must insist that Gemma will be adequately protected while she attends college before her wedding. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“I can assure you nothing and definitely no one is going to happen to her,” I said. “Everyone will know whom she belongs to.”
Shortly before we had to leave, I was finally allowed a word with Gemma. She’d loosened the top button of her dress and a few strands framed her face, refugees from that horrid updo.
“Interesting outfit for a first date,” I said dryly.
“I didn’t choose the dress. Nonna and Mom did.” She flushed, then frowned. “And this wasn’t a date.” There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice as if she wasn’t sure what constituted a real date. I’d definitely had to show her my version of a date once she was a bit older.
“I don’t get how you manage to be two different people.”
“What?”
“In the boxing ring, you are confident and outspoken. When your family is around, you’re this demure little thing.”
Her lips fell open. “It’s how I’ve been raised… it’s what my family expects of me.”
“And you never want to break free of it?”
She swallowed. “They wouldn’t allow it. They wouldn’t understand if I started dressing like other girls or talk back. It’s just expected of me to be like this.”
“I don’t expect you to be like that. I want you to be who you want to be and decide for yourself. You know what I think of your oppressing traditions.”
“Until we’re engaged, my parents decide over my life.” She tilted her head. “When are we going to get engaged and marry?”
I shrugged, looking away from her hopeful olive ey
es. “Once you’ve finished high school, we get engaged and after college, we’ll marry.”
“College?” she blurted. “I’m supposed to go to college? My father would never send me there.”
“I’m going to send you. I told you I want you to be who you want to be.”
Anger flashed on her face, taking me by surprise. “It’s funny how both you and my family think you know what’s best for me when neither of you ask what I want. You decide over my head like they do. That isn’t letting me decide for myself, Savio. That’s oppression in disguise. Maybe I want to be only a wife and mother, maybe I don’t want to go to college. Shouldn’t it be my choice what kind of life I want?”
I was still stunned by Gemma’s outburst when Diego ripped the door open. “It’s time. Your brother needs to leave.”
Diego scanned his sister from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the opened top button. Of course, he’d think that was my doing. Gemma stalked out of the living room, joining the rest of her family in the small entrance hall.
Diego stepped close to me.
“I didn’t touch her, bag it,” I growled.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” he hissed. “It’s about the college bullshit and you acting like the savior who allows my sister to get a higher education. We both know this isn’t about you wanting Gemma to get a degree. You just don’t want to marry soon. You want to be free to fuck around as you please.”
“Who says I can’t do that after the wedding?” I asked.
Diego nodded grimly. “I knew this was a mistake.”
Mick was a sore loser as expected. For days, he gave me the stink eye until he agreed to work out with Diego and me again, of course, only to piss me off.
“And have you tapped it yet?” Mick asked spitefully as he lowered the barbell with a grunt.
“He won’t tap anything if he knows what’s good for him. Dad and I’ll make sure that Gemma heeds our traditions, so shut your fucking mouth.”
“Fuck off. You know how Savio is. He’s probably doing all kinds of nasty shit to her already. Do you really think he’ll wait to get it on until they’re married?”
