When we finally break apart, there’s applause echoing through the cathedral, but it sounds distant. All I can focus on is Luca’s face. The conflicted expression, the intensity in his eyes that goes way beyond normal wedding day emotions.
Something’s wrong.
But then he’s smiling at me, and it’s almost genuine despite whatever turmoil I can see lurking beneath the surface. He offers his arm, and we turn to face the crowd of dangerous, powerful people who have gathered to witness this union.
“Mrs. Marchetti,” Luca murmurs as we begin the walk back down the aisle. Hearing my new name makes my stomach flip.
I’mmarried. To Luca Marchetti. The man who destroyed my life then offered to rebuild it. The man I’m falling for despite knowing I shouldn’t.
The reception is held at the Palmer House Hilton—the same venue where I met Viktor Torrino what feels like a lifetime ago. But tonight it’s transformed into something out of a fairy-tale, with white flowers and twinkling lights and elegance. It’s like a dream.
Too bad it’s not mine.
Luca keeps me close throughout the entire evening. His hand never leaves mine unless it’s absolutely necessary, resting at the small of my back when we greet guests, laced through my fingers when we sit at the head table, wrapped around my waist when we claim the dance floor for our first dance as husband and wife.
“You’re tense,” I observe as we sway to music I don’t recognize, his body rigid against mine despite the intimacy of our position.
“Am I?” He tries for casual and fails. “It’s been a long day.”
“Luca.” I pull back enough to see his face. “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing, because I can feel you practically vibrating with—something.”
He opens his mouth then closes it again, conflict playing across his handsome features. “Not here,” he finally says. “Not now. Tonight we play the happy couple for all these people. Tomorrow we can—” He stops. “Tomorrow.”
It’s not reassuring, but I nod anyway because he’s right. This isn’t the place for whatever conversation we need to have. Notsurrounded by crime bosses and their families, all watching our every interaction with assessing eyes.
So I smile and play my part. I dance with Viktor Torrino, who congratulates me with what seems like genuine warmth. I make small talk with Natasha, who offers surprisingly civil commentary about the wedding. I accept well-wishes from men whose names I recognize from newspapers and news segments.
Through it all, I watch Luca watch me. His eyes never stray far, tracking my movements across the ballroom with an intensity that should probably concern me but instead makes me feel—safe? Protected? I don’t even know.
During a brief lull, Danny approaches with champagne. “Congratulations,” he says, and there’s something in his expression I can’t quite read. “You two look happy together.”
“Do we?” I can’t help asking.
“More than you probably realize.” He glances at Luca, who’s deep in conversation with Dimitri across the room.
I shiver. Dimitri has made it very clear he doesn’t like me, and I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to me at the warehouse.
“He’s different with you,” Danny continues. “Better.”
“But is better enough?” I ask, desperate for answers. “Please, is my father okay?”
Danny studies me for a long moment. “Your father is safe,” he says quietly. “And like I said earlier, Luca gave orders this morning that Antonio is to be treated well, given proper medical care, and—” He stops, like he’s said too much.
“And what?” I press, stepping toward Danny. “Please, Danny. Tell me.”
“And kept alive,” Danny finishes. “That’s seriously all I can tell you. The rest is between you and Luca.”
Kept alive. The words should be reassuring, but they raise more questions than they answer. Kept alive for how long? Under what conditions? And why does Danny look so uncomfortable saying it?
Before I can push for more information, Luca returns, his hand finding mine automatically. “Everything okay?” he asks, noting my expression.
“Danny was just telling me about my father.” I watch Luca’s face carefully, looking for tells. “That he’s safe and being treated well.”
Luca’s face is impassive. “He is. I gave specific orders. He’s in a secure location with proper medical supervision.”
“Can I see him? Now that we’re married, can I see my father? It can be my wedding gift. Please.”
Luca’s nostrils flare and some odd expression crosses his face momentarily. “Soon,” he finally says. “I promise, Gigi. Soon.”
