Silvo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I apologize for my brother. He’s always been a bit...much.”
“I like him,” I say honestly. “He seems fun. Unlike some people I know.”
Silvo gives me a stern look. “Careful, wife. Keep talking like that and I might start to think you prefer my brother’s company to mine.”
“Well, he does have better stories,” I tease, feeling a thrill at the way his eyes darken.
“Stick with me, baby. I’ll show you a real good time.” His voice is a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.
As Silvo leads me further into the house, I spot a beautiful dark-haired woman descending the grand staircase. She has the same striking blue eyes as Silvo and Fed.
“Isabella,” Silvo greets her warmly, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Carmela.”
Isabella turns to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carmela. Welcome to the family.”
Her voice is soft and melodic, a stark contrast to Fed’s boisterous energy. I find myself instantly drawn to her calm presence.
“Thank you. It’s wonderful to meet you as well.” I return her smile, feeling a bit more at ease.
“I hope my brothers haven’t been too overwhelming,” she says, shooting Silvo a look. “They can be a bit… enthusiastic at times.”
Silvo scoffs, but I can see the affection in his eyes. “We’re excited to have a new member of the family, that’s all.”
Isabella rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Of course you are.” She turns back to me, her expression softening. “I know this must be a lot to take in. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
I feel a lump form in my throat at her kindness. “Thank you, Isabella. That means a lot.”
She nods, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re one of us now. We take care of our own.”
I glance at Silvo, seeing the pride shining in his eyes as he watches our exchange. Maybe being a part of this family won’t be so bad after all.
As we settle into our seats at the lavishly set dining table, I can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed. The De Lucas spare no expense, from the glittering chandeliers overhead to the fine china and crystal glasses before me. Silvo pulls out my chair, ever the gentleman, and I sit down gingerly, smoothing my dress over my lap.
The first course is served, a delicate soup that I can barely pronounce. I take a tentative sip, my eyes widening at the explosion of flavors on my tongue. Beside me, Silvo chuckles at my reaction.
“Good, isn’t it?” he murmurs, leaning in close. “Our chef is world-renowned.”
I nod, taking another spoonful. Across the table, Fed regales us with tales of his latest conquest, a model he met at a party in Milan. Giulia tuts disapprovingly, but I can see the amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Federico, please. We have a guest,” she chides.
Fed grins, unabashed. “Apologies, Mother. I forgot how delicate your sensibilities are.”
Silvo snorts into his wine glass, earning a glare from his mother. I hide my own smile behind my napkin, feeling a sense of camaraderie with these people I barely know.
As the meal progresses, I start to notice the little quirks and eccentricities of the De Luca family. Antonio has a habit of tapping his fingers on the table in a specific pattern, as if sending a secret message. Isabella barely touches her food, instead pushing it around her plate and sipping delicately at her wine. And Fed, well, he seems to have a story for every occasion, each one more outrageous than the last.
But it’s Silvo who intrigues me the most. He’s quiet, observing his family with a watchful eye. Every now and then, he’ll lean over and whisper something in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. It sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me of the night we shared.
As the plates are cleared away and dessert is served, Giulia turns to me with a warm smile. “So, Carmela, tell us about yourself. What do you like to do for fun?”
I blink, caught off guard by the question. “Oh, um, I enjoy reading and painting,” I say, feeling a bit self-conscious. “And I love to dance.”
Silvo’s hand finds mine under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Carmela is a woman of many talents,” he says. “I’m a lucky man.”
I glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.
As the meal comes to an end, I find myself feeling more relaxed than I have in days. The wine has left me pleasantly buzzed and the conversation has been surprisingly enjoyable. Even Silvo seems to have let his guard down a bit, his hand resting casually on my thigh.
