"Congratulations," Vittoria says, hugging Sophia first, then me. "The photos are already circulating. Every family in Chicago will know by midnight."
Sophia starts toward the stairs. "I'll just go change and?—"
My hand catches her wrist. I pull her back against me, my mouth finding her ear.
"You'll eat wearing the dress." My voice drops low enough that only she can hear. "And when dinner's done, I'm going to fuck you while you're still wearing it."
Her breath catches. The others continue talking around us.
Sophia turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting mine. She runs her tongue across her lips. The sight sends blood rushing south.
"I'm wearing something underneath you might like," she whispers back.
My grip on her wrist tightens. Images flood my mind.
"I'm going to rip it off." My lips brush her ear. "Then I'll tie your hands with it while I fuck you."
"Lorenzo," Pietro calls from the dining room. "Stop whatever you're discussing and get in here. Giulia made enough food for an army."
Sophia's cheeks flush pink. She smooths her dress with her free hand, but I don't release her wrist.
"After dinner," I promise.
She nods, not trusting her voice.
I guide her to the dining room where everyone has gathered. Marina sits next to Vittoria, both of them grinning at Sophia like they know exactly what just happened.
"So Pietro," Nora says, cutting into her chicken parmigiana, "when are you planning to tell everyone about the new warehouse on Cicero?"
"After the reception tomorrow." Pietro's jaw tightens. "We need the Torrino territories secured first."
"Speaking of territories," Nico sets down his wine glass, "the Corellis have been sniffing around the docks again."
"Let them sniff," Dante says. "They won't find anything."
Marina pushes food around her plate. "This is what you people talk about at dinner? Territory disputes and warehouses?"
"Would you prefer we discuss the weather?" Dante's voice carries that edge it gets when Marina's around.
"I'd prefer actual conversation," Marina shoots back. "Like normal people."
Vittoria laughs. "We're not normal people, Marina. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
"Some of us try," Nora says, squeezing Pietro's hand. "Though it's a losing battle in this family."
The conversation drifts to Vittoria's latest security upgrades. I barely listen, too focused on how Sophia's tongue darts out to catch a drop of sauce on her lip.
"This silence is killing me," Vittoria suddenly announces. "We need music. This is supposed to be a celebration."
She pulls out her phone, connecting it to the sound system. Modern pop fills the room.
"Absolutely not," I say. "Turn that garbage off."
"It's Taylor Swift," Vittoria protests.
"Exactly." I reach for my own phone. "Let me show you what real music sounds like."
Frank Sinatra's voice flows through the speakers. "My Way" fills the dining room.
