"What's this, a family craft project?" Matteo's sardonic voice came from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, expression caught between amusement and disdain.
"Either help or leave," Dario said without looking up from the strand of lights he was untangling. “But don’t run your yap unless you’re helping.”
Matteo scoffed but wandered into the room, pretending to examine his phone while surreptitiously picking up a crystal snowflake. When he thought no one was watching, he hung it on the tree, then immediately returned to his performance of disinterest.
I smiled to myself, continuing to pass ornaments to Gabriel while Dario and Alessandro debated the merits of colored lights versus white ones. The transformation wasn't just in the villa but in the men themselves, these dangerous, powerful brothers bickering over Christmas decorations like any normal family.
A hush fell over the room as Vittorio appeared in the doorway. Unlike his brothers, he made no pretense of critique or enthusiasm. He simply watched for several long moments, his expression unreadable. Just as I began to worry he might disapprove, he walked to a small table near the entrance and picked up a box I hadn't noticed before.
"This should be at the top," he said, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room. He opened the box to reveal a star, silver and crystal, clearly antique and exquisitely crafted.
Dario went still beside me. "Father's star," he said softly. "I didn't know you had kept it."
"Some traditions are worth preserving," Vittorio replied, his usual stoicism softened by something almost like sentiment.
The brothers exchanged a look laden with emotion. Then Dario nodded and took the star, climbing the ladder to place it at the top of the tree. The moment felt sacred somehow, a connection to their past that transformed our present. As Dario descended, I noticed Marcus watching from the doorway, his ever-present vigilance not diminished by the holiday setting. But even his stoic expression had softened, one eyebrow raised in surprise as he observed his boss fussing with Christmas ornaments. When Dario caught him looking, Marcus gave a small nod that somehow conveyed both approval andamazement at the transformation. Dario returned the nod, a silent communication passing between them.
The tree was nearly finished, glittering with lights and ornaments, the heirloom star crowning the top. I reached into the last box and pulled out a delicate glass angel, its wings spun from the thinnest strands of glass, face peaceful and serene.
"One more," I said, holding it out to Dario.
He took it carefully, turning the fragile ornament in his hands. Without a word, he selected a branch near eye level and placed the angel with a gentleness that made my heart swell. When he stepped back, his expression had softened completely, the hard edges melting away.
I slipped my hand into his, and he squeezed it gently, both of us gazing at the magnificent tree, a perfect blend of his family's traditions and my determination to bring warmth to this place and this family. My family. Around us, the Luca brothers continued adding final touches, their voices a blend of reminiscence and unexpected joy.
"Thank you," I whispered to Dario.
He looked down at me, eyes reflecting the twinkling lights. "For what?"
"For letting me bring Christmas to Villa Luca. For joining in. For..." I gestured to his brothers, now arguing good-naturedly about the proper placement and amount of tinsel. "For this."
Dario's arm slid around my waist, pulling me close against his side. "Thank you for showing us how," he said simply, pressing a kiss to my temple.
At that moment, surrounded by twinkling lights and pine scent, with this dangerous, complicated man at my side and his equally dangerous family gathered around us, I felt something I hadn't expected to find in Villa Luca. The true spirit of Christmas, the sense of belonging to something larger than myself. A family. My family.
Chapter Eighteen
Belle
I smoothed my hands over the deep green silk of my gown, the gold embroidery catching the light as I stepped through the doors ofThe Gray. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape, but I kept my chin up, shoulders back. This wasn't the same club where I'd mixed drinks and dodged wandering hands. Tonight, I was entering as Dario Luca's wife, and the weight of that title pressed on me.
The Grayhad transformed for Christmas Eve, nearly unrecognizable from the sleek, modern club it usually was. Pine garlands wove through the crystal chandeliers, their fresh scent mingling with expensive perfume and aged whiskey. White lights reflected off every polished surface turning the whole place into something from a winter fairy tale. The main floor glittered with subtle touches of silver and gold, elegant rather than gaudy.
I couldn't help but smile, remembering how I used to hurry through this space with trays of drinks, head down, trying tobe invisible. Now people stepped aside as I passed, their gazes lingering on my gown, my jewelry, all Dario's gifts, all worth more than everything I'd owned before him combined.
I scanned the room out of habit, locating the security detail almost immediately. After my abduction, Dario and Marcus had made sure to teach me to immediately spot my security in the crowd and to always know where they were. Marcus stood near the main bar, his back to the wall, gaze constantly roaming across the crowd. He caught my eye and gave an imperceptible nod, the closest thing to warmth I'd ever get from him. Two more men I recognized from Dario's security team flanked the entrance to the VIP area, their dark suits and earpieces subtle but unmistakable. Another positioned near the emergency exit, another by the stairs. The Christmas celebration didn't mean a lapse in vigilance. If anything, the higher profile event had doubled the security presence.
"Mrs. Luca," a silver-haired man approached, his smile practiced but his eyes calculating as they swept over me. "Carlo Venucci. A pleasure to finally meet you."
I extended my hand the way Alessandro had taught me, not too eager, not too hesitant. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Venucci."
His grin seemed oily somehow. This was the part of Dario’s life I hated. I didn’t like playing games and everyone here insisted on them. "Once Dario Luca claims something as his, we all respect that claim immediately. But should you decide you’d rather move on to someone higher up in the food chain, I’m always looking for… new blood."
My smile didn't falter, though something in me bristled at being referred to as a "something" rather than a "someone." To say nothing of the implication my relationship with Dario was anything but genuine. The callous attitude shouldn’t have surprised me, but I wanted everyone to know how much in love I was with Dario Luca. I wanted them to know how much hewas in love with me. Six months ago, I might have stammered or blushed. Tonight, I merely tilted my head. "How fortunate that what Dario claims, I gave him freely." I leaned in closer to the asshole. “And, in the spirit of Christmas, I promise to wait until after the holiday before I tell Dario that you implied I was a whore who could be bought by the highest bidder.”
Venucci's eyebrows lifted slightly, approval flashing in his eyes. "Beautiful and vicious. I think Dario chose well." He gave me a contemplative look. “He's been different since you came into his life. Less... severe. It suits him."
Before I could respond, we were joined by a couple. The man in an impeccable tuxedo, the woman draped in diamonds that caught every glimmer of light. Though my engagement ring was almost ostentatious in its size, I doubted it cost as much as the fortune this woman had clinging to her in the form of jewelry.
