“To get Margo off my back because of the damn covenant,” Lucy said. “And Kirill needed a suitable wife for his pakhanship.”
Pakhanship?What the hell. My mouth wanted to smile. That was three times now. If this proved anything, it was that I could at least tolerate Lucy as a wife. I might even find her amusing sometimes.
“Oh, and you know, those Amalfi Coast properties?” Lucy added. “We might get them back after all.”
The minx. We had not talked about it.
“We agreed those properties were tainted for being used in sex trafficking and don’t want them back,” De Lucci said.
“Not if we use them to help the victims.” Lucy glanced at me. “We can discuss this, right?”
“Sure, Lusenka. We can iron it out in the contract or prenup.” What the fuck was I agreeing to? Who was I marrying? Mother Teresa?
De Lucci appeared to be considering this. I could see his bullshit meter working, discarding one conclusion before arriving at the next. He turned to Moretti. “Surely you don’t believe this?”
“I’m surprised you hung on to her word this far. And of course not,” Moretti replied.
Lucy sighed. “Do you want to repeat your theory to the group?”
And Moretti did. My chest constricted uncomfortably at how accurate it was. When he finished, De Lucci was glaring at his uncle.
“I can’t believe you dragged Lucy into your shit with Moscow.”
“She’s a fixer, and I have a scandal I wanted addressed. The problem with you, Dom, is you want to take care of everyone and not let them make mistakes.”
“Mistakes? You know how strong-willed Lucy is! And I’m always the one to fix her fuckups.”
“Hey, I’m right here!” Lucy growled. “And there will be nothing for you to fix.”
He stabbed a finger in her direction. “You. Quiet. You’ve done enough.”
“Don’t point your finger at her again,” I said in a level voice but not without a lethal warning that made them swing their stunned gazes to me.
De Lucci stepped toe to toe with me. “What did you just say?”
“Back off, Dom. And you…” Lucy directed slitted eyes at me. “No need to defend me.”
“On the contrary, you’re going to be my wife. Of course I’ll defend you.”
“I’m her brother.” He was grasping at straws. De Luccis were Catholics. When a woman married, everyone else became secondary to her husband and children. I delighted in seeing the frustration on his face. But I knew how to react so they’d believe that I was serious about marrying Lucy. These men were pussy-whipped by the women in their lives. They were psychotically protective. It was amusing to see how emotional they got when they lost their power over that security.
A commotion outside pulled our attention to the door.
Lucy walked over and opened it.
Her parents stood there, and Carlotta De Lucci’s eyes flew past her daughter and straight to me.
A wide grin broke across her face. “Is it true, Stellina?”
Well, fuck. Finally, someone was on my side.
Chapter
Seven
Lucy
Unknown number
