He jerks his head back, with malice instantly filling his ice-blue eyes before they roll backward and he smiles in victory.
“Marrying that”—he gestures toward my wife before shaking his head, like he’s disappointed in me—“is a sign to me you know you’ve already lost. The De Lucas will not be head of the Cosa Nostra in this country. Our grandfather rid the family tree of your parents for a reason. Perhaps you should concede now. I’ll be happy for you and your pack to work under my reign, after I take out the trash, of course.”
Knowing everyone is watching, since the animosity between Diego and me is nothing new, I ensure my smile is firmly in place. “Speaking of business, you got my invitation to attend my wedding dinner, right? Vitale had you and your pack at a table near the kitchen, but after much negotiation, I have managed to move you closer. Since we are family.” Spending a few hours with Vitale while Layne was having her day of decision proved more beneficial than anyone could have imagined.
I leave Diego rippling in anger at Vitale’s obvious disparagement. Sitting near the kitchen at a wedding dinner—asopposed to the front, where all the prominent families involved in the Cosa Nostra sit—is more offensive than not being invited in the first place.
I actually don’t give a shit who Vitale is naming, because no matter who it is, I will be taking the position from them. All this song and dance is for show. Layne gave us more time and an opportunity to be included in discussions and events we wouldn’t have access too if we didn’t have a wife, or bonded omega. The dinner is also the perfect opportunity for me to send a message to our family. I am married, and she is mine. That message would inadvertently bounce through every crime syndicate dotted over the world. Without being dramatic.
Following a nervous Manny back to the table, I wait until he serves Layne before taking my seat next to her.
“It looks like you have met my cousin and his wife before today,” I say quietly, leaning over and kissing her shoulder.
She looks uncomfortable still, so I push my seat back and sit her on my lap. Her eyes flare, but I push her hair behind her ear, leaning past her to grab my wine.
Loudly, I say, “To Vitale’s health and a welcome to my wife.”
Purposely, I hold my glass out, ensuring Diego has no option but to climb off his seat, unless he wants to be seen as being disrespectful, and offer his cheers. The rest of the men of importance offer the same before everyone turns to Vitale and salutes his good health. With everyone looking in the opposite direction, I take the opportunity to slide my hand up under Layne’s dress, and the endless folds of the full skirt make it nearly impossible for anyone to make out what I’m doing.
As I feed her and talk with Matteo and the rest of the table, I continually remind her who she belongs to with a brush of my knuckle over her soaked panties. Maybe too many times, since just before dessert, I feel the smallest tilt of her hips on my lap and catch the slightest hitch in her breath.
Finding her engorged clit through her thick panties, I give her one last pinch, leaning up to kiss the glare off her face. “You are positively glowing, Mrs. De Luca.”
Matteo leans over. “You’ve set the bar high, Valentine. But I’m sure there will be no losers in this game of yours.”
“You’re going to turn family events into a challenge of who gets to make me come?” She smirks, twisting to pin us both with her caramel gaze. And there is no shock, only a smoldering acceptance.
“As soon as Dante knows, I’m sure it’s going to be expanded to every time we go out.”
“I have no issue with any part of what you’re alluding to.” Matteo chuckles, leaning back in his seat, checking his phone.
Instead of replying or asking questions, Layne shakes her head, climbing off my lap before twisting around. “Excuse me, I need the bathroom.”
Matteo and I watch her go. Rosa watches her too and starts to rise to follow her, but Diego clamps his hand over her thigh, hissing something in her ear.
The rest of lunch goes off without a hitch. With the lingering threat of the Bratva sneaking around and Vitale struggling to stay alive and not die in front of us, lunch ends sooner than usual.
Calling Dante, his phone goes unanswered, and I let him know we’re heading home.
On the drive, Layne checks her phone. Her eyebrows pinch and her scent sours as she makes a call, lifting the phone to her ear. “Jana, sorry I missed your call.”
Layne is quiet as the other person talks rapidly. The woman’s voice pitches high, and Layne’s whole demeanor shifts as she gets stressed.
“Yeah,” Layne says, her voice dull. After another second, she looks at Matteo and me before answering. “Wait, let me get back to you.”
Jana replies, and she nods, listening before she closes her eyes and takes a deep exhale.
“I’m sorry, Jana. I wouldn’t have taken the room if I thought there would be a risk of anyone finding me.”
Both Matteo and I straighten, and she avoids looking at us. Even after she hangs up, she keeps looking out the window.
“What happened?” I snap.
But Matteo looks at me, telling me to quit it before he reaches over to her. “Layne?”
When her eyes lift again, evidence of her past is back. And that pisses me the hell off.
26
