Page 54 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

She shrugged. “Maybe Luca just did a nice thing for you.”

I really wasn’t at all sure how I felt about that.

17

LUCA

Dear Diary,

Apparently, I’m expanding the family business into sports crime now. Diversification is important, I guess.

Istopped in at my father’s office after we got back to the house and knocked on his door. Waited for the obligatory “enter” to be called out, then pushed my way inside.

My uncle, Enzo, sat across from him, papers spread out everywhere on the desk between them. Neither of them bothered to acknowledge me.

I spoke anyway, not interested in playing their power games. “I just wanted to let you know I’ve made Lynx coach of the hockey team you gave me.”

That got their attention. Both men paused and looked up at me.

“You fired Coach Buckle?” Enzo asked.

I nodded. “I did.”

Enzo shrugged and went back to his paperwork. “I’m sure that went down well.”

“About as well as a lead balloon.”

My father eyed me from across the desk. “So you’ve stolen my newest employee then?”

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t say stolen. He’s still yours all for but two hours a couple times a week for training. You’ll be pleased to know his first objection was that he already had a job. Your princess will just need a new guard for those couple of hours.”

“She’s my fiancée, Luca.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Enzo sat back and studied me. “Why have you got your panties in a twist over her?”

“Why?” I asked, voice dripping with incredulity. “Because she’s a fucking Matish, and you welcomed her right in with open arms like her father isn’t likely to stab you in the back at any minute.”

“You don’t trust her,” Enzo said, stating the obvious.

“Why the hell would I? Why do you?”

My father sighed heavily. “Of course we don’t trust her. But we also aren’t telling her anything to report back.” He stared at me. “Are you?”

“No.”

My father nodded. “Not that she has any way of contacting anyone anyway.”

I paused at that. “What does that mean? You aren’t letting her speak to her parents?”

“I’m not an idiot, son. Even though we might not be telling her anything, there might be things she picks up on, just from being in this house. She can’t have any contact with her family. Her father agreed to this when he gave her to me.”

“What about her friends?”

“She’ll make new ones.”

The words “of my choosing” hung unspoken in the air.