Marco smirked faintly. “She was hard to miss with her dark hair and light eyes. They were the kind that make you think she knows more than she should.” Luca felt something shift in his gut—subtle but unfamiliar. Maybe it was annoyance or even curiosity—neither of which he had time for. But his gut was telling him that he not only knew this woman, but she was going to soon be his wife. But why would Isabella be asking about him at his own club? If she wanted to talk to him, all she had to do was ask. He’d at least grant her an audience, since she was goingto be his wife. He needed to know for sure if it was Isabella before he sent men out to find her.
“Find out who she is,” Luca said. “I want to know who she belongs to, and why she thinks it’s a good idea to ask around about me.”
Marco pushed off the wall. “Already on it.” Of course he was. Luca didn’t tolerate inefficiency, and Marco was anything but. That’s why he had kept him around for so long.
As Marco moved toward the door, Luca added, “And Marco—” He paused, glancing back. “If she’s connected to anyone who might be a problem?—"
Marco’s grin turned mean. “I’ll handle it.” The door shut behind him with a quiet click, and silence filled the room again. But it wasn’t the same silence as before.
Luca turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him in the glass—cold eyes, controlled expression, a man carved from power and blood. If the stranger who had been asking about him turned out to be Isabella, then she was going to be more trouble than he had signed up for. Instead of fear, she’d shown interest in him, and that was a mistake, because in Luca Camorra’s world, interest came with consequences—future wife or not.
And curiosity? Curiosity got people killed. Still, his gaze drifted back to the city below, his mind circling the thought he couldn’t quite shake. Marco said she had dark hair, light eyes, and didn’t seem to be afraid of anything. A slow, dangerous smile curved at the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s see how fearless you really are,” he murmured. Because if she’d come looking for him, she was about to find out exactly what kind of man Luca Camorra truly was. He’d show her just who she was marrying.
Luca’s meeting with old man Romano wasn’t going as planned. He had refused to see him—at first, and then, Luca reminded him that his daughter’s life would soon be in his hands. He assured Romano that Isabella would be well taken care of if he agreed to cooperate, and that had the old guy agreeing to meet with him.
He hurried across town to the Romano headquarters. Damion insisted on tagging along, and he was happy to have him there. The illusion of safety was just that, and he wouldn’t take any chances. His uncle had taken chances and underestimated the Romano family, and that ended up getting him killed. Luca wouldn’t make that same mistake.
He was escorted into Romano’s office and ordered Damion to wait for him just outside the door. Romano did the same with his guard, and he sat down uneasily in front of the old man’s desk. He allowed himself a quick breath, trying to calm his speeding heart, while Romano poured them each scotch.
“Why have you demanded this meeting?” he asked, cutting right to the chase. “Have you decided not to marry my daughter?” Luca knew better than to renege on their contract. If he did, he’d be as good as dead before he even left the building.
“No,” Luca breathed, setting his drink down untouched. The last thing he needed right now was liquor clouding his mind. “The wedding is still on. You can name the date, time, and place for all I care, and I’ll be there. I’ve signed the contract, and I always live up to my word. I just want to know that you’ll do the same.”
“You don’t need to worry about my family,” he spat, “we always keep our word.” Luca wanted to laugh at that, but he knew that would only have the old man’s anger flare. He needed to finish what he came to say and leave before he lost his own temper.
“If you’re not here to call off the wedding, then why are you here?” he asked.
“I want to make it very clear that once I marry your princess, our war is over,” he said. “Got it, old man?” Romano’s smile was mean, and Luca knew that he had hit a nerve. That worked for him. If he couldn’t have his revenge for his uncle’s death, he’d spend the rest of his life pissing off his new father-in-law.
“You can call me every name in the book, Luca, but I’m the one in control here. I know that upsets you, but it’s just the way we’re going to play things.”
He didn’t want to burst the old man’s bubble, but he’d learn soon enough who was in control, even if Luca had to teach him that lesson the hard way.
“I hear that your princess wants to keep her last name, and I need you to make sure she changes your mind,” he said.
“You can’t expect her to take your name, can you?” Romano asked.
“I certainly will expect it,” Luca spat. “As her husband, she will take my name, and there will be no discussion.”
“Or what?” her father spat.
“Or I will tear down your family, Romano,” Luca spat. “I’ve already made a small dent by taking out a few of your enforcers. Do you really want to take the chance that I can’t make good on my threat?” he asked. He felt as though he was holding his breath, waiting for Romano to answer him.
“Fine,” he snapped, “I’ll talk to Isabella when I see her. I’m sure that I can convince her to take your name—for the family’s sake.” Luca was glad that the old guy saw things his way because,honestly, he was ready for the war to end. But he had no problem following through with his threats, if needed.
“Then it’s settled,” Luca said. He looked over at the bookshelves that lined the wall to his right and noticed some pictures. They were of a dark-haired girl with light eyes, and he walked across the room to look at them more closely.
“That’s my Isabella,” Romano said. “She’s a beautiful woman now. That was taken when she was only a teenager.” The old man’s voice sounded sorrowful, and Luca almost felt bad for him—almost. He needed to remember that the old man had his uncle killed, and that was unforgivable. Romano was paying a steep price, marrying his only daughter to Luca, but that was his punishment for killing his uncle and starting this damn war. The old saying, “War was hell,” was correct, and he planned on making sure that his father-in-law learned that lesson the hard way.
He picked up a photo of the woman that Isabella had grown into and looked her over. She resembled the description of the woman asking about him at his club. “I’m going to take this photo with me,” he said, not really asking permission.
“What for?” Romano asked.
He wasn’t about to tell him that he wanted to give her photo to his men, so they would know if the nosey woman in his club was Isabella. “I’d like to have a photo of my future wife,” he said. The old guy shook his head at him and looked at him as though he was disgusted by his request.
He started for the door and didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Luca,” the old man called. “Please treat my Isabella with kindness. She’s not a part of our world. I’ve made sure that she was sheltered from the nasty side of this life.” Luca didn’t bother to turn around or answer the man. He simply nodded and walked out of his office, Damion flanking his side immediately.
