Luca cocked one eyebrow. “Maybe because you prefer spending the night in a sweaty gym than in bed with your young wife.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“And you couldn’t come up with something more entertaining to do than kickboxing a dummy?”

“You’re starting to grate on my nerves,” I said.

Luca ignored my warning tone. “To be honest I’m surprised you lasted this long with her. If I spend more than ten minutes in a room with Gianna, I want to seal my ears with hot wax.”

“I’m not tired of her. I actually like Gianna’s obnoxious personality. She spices things up. Life would be boring if she were like the other trophy wives.”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “Aria isn’t just a trophy wife.”

Of course he was allowed to get angry when I even remotely insulted Aria but he could talk shit about Gianna all the time. “I didn’t say anything about Aria. But I prefer my women…”

“Annoying and foulmouthed,” Luca finished for me, before he took the whiskey bottle out of my hand. “Then what’s the problem? Why are you sulking like a whiny bitch?”

I was waiting for one of my usual clever comebacks to pop into my mind, but I drew a fucking blank. That was serious bullshit. “I’m starting to think that Gianna might always hate me. I thought it was her way to be interesting and a challenge, a sort of game at the end of which she’d come to her fucking senses and fall for me like all the girls I’ve pursued before her, but I’m pretty sure Gianna is a challenge I’m losing. She won’t come around. I think she hates this life a bit more every fucking day.”

Luca scanned my face. “This is really bothering you.”

He said it as if that was the biggest fucking surprise of his life, as if I was a fucking robot that wasn’t capable of emotions. “That coming from you,” I said with a smirk. “Before Aria I wasn’t even sure you were capable of liking anyone, least of all a woman.”

“You make it sound like I’m a fag. It’s not that I didn’t like women. They were just not something I considered useful outside of the bedroom.”

I shook my head. “How the hell did you get Aria to love you? It’s like the fucking eighth Wonder of the World. Are there any new drugs you’re not telling me about?”

“You’re wasted, Matteo.”

“I’m not. If you’d stop hogging the fucking whiskey, I might get the chance to be in a couple of hours.” I ripped the bottle from his hand and took a swig. “Gianna is like a tiger in the fucking zoo, caged in. It’s fucking depressing to watch her look for a way to escape captivity.”

“Did she try to run again?”

“How could she? I’m keeping her on a tight leash.”

“You’re not thinking about letting her go, are you?”

I didn’t think I could, and I didn’t want to. I was selfish and that wouldn’t change any time soon. I still wanted Gianna. I wanted her gorgeous body in my bed every night, and my cock in her tight pussy. I wanted everything from her, most of all the things she was refusing to give me. “Would you let me?”

“No. The Familia is already displeased as it is. You’d look even weaker if you’d let her run away again. I really don’t need the additional trouble. Not to mention the fucking Outfit would probably declare fucking war on us if we managed to lose Gianna again. Her father is being a real pain in the ass.” He gave me his Capo look, which was meant to intimidate the rest of the world, but was useless on me as he fucking well knew. “You won’t let her get away. You’re stuck with her until the bitter end, and she with you. I don’t care if she’s fucking unhappy and if she hates you, she’ll just have to deal.”

“Wow, you’re full of sunshine and rainbows today, aren’t you?” I knew he was right, and really it wasn’t like I’d tell Gianna she could go but somehow his words managed to piss me off anyway. “You realize the only thing stopping Gianna from slicing my throat at night is that she can’t see blood. Do you know how reassuring it is to fall asleep beside someone who’s probably fantasizing to see you dead so she can be free.” She’d never said it in so many words but sometimes I thought I saw it in her eyes. Or maybe I was so fucking messed up that I was always thinking the worst of others.

“I hope you’re joking,” Luca said dryly.

“Who knows?” I emptied the whiskey bottle. I could feel the first treacherous signs of a nice buzz. I grinned. “Sometimes she’d definitely trying to kill me with her eyes.”

“Maybe then you shouldn’t sleep in a room with her. She might get over her fear of blood at some point.”

“Nah. Not anytime soon. And she isn’t the violent type, not really.”

“I wouldn’t count on that. She can be really unhinged.”

“You weren’t worried about sleeping beside Aria when she still despised you so why should I?”

“You can’t compare Aria to Gianna. They are like two different species. And I trust Aria absolutely. She caught a fucking bullet for me.”

“Must be nice,” I muttered. “Gianna would probably applaud my shooter.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Gianna

Matteo was in a strange mood, had been ever since he’d found me in the living room two nights ago. He hadn’t said much, which was unusual for him. I wasn’t sure if he was angry at something I’d done, and I didn’t really care. That night I’d promised myself that I’d have to stop whatever was going on between him and me. I’d sworn to myself that I’d never become one of those women, that I’d never marry a Made Men, and much less develop feelings for him.

Christmas was only five days away but we both definitely hadn’t caught the holiday spirit yet. There wasn’t a single piece of Christmas decoration in our apartment. I’d considered asking Matteo to buy a tree and decorate it together, but then the panic had set in again and I hadn’t said anything. Instead I’d accepted the strange mood between us almost with relief.

Matteo was gripping the steering wheel in a steel grip as we drove away from the last Christmas party of the season. The hosts had rented a deserted warehouse and turned into a winter wonderland with fake snow and a real ice bar. Aria and Luca were still there but Matteo’s bad temper had caused Luca to send us away early. He’d probably worried that Matteo would end up killing someone again. I couldn’t blame him.

The road was covered with a fine sheen of frost which glittered in the glare of our spotlights.

“You know what’s funny?” Matteo asked in a tight voice.

I glanced toward him, his tense body and dark expression.

“Whenever you think I’m not watching, you look like you might be happy and then the moment our eyes meet, it’s like ‘poof’ and the happiness is gone.”

I wasn’t sure what to tell him.

“Why do you insist on being miserable?”

Before I could formulate an answer, Matteo suddenly floored the gas. I was pressed into the seat. “What are you doing? You don’t have to kill us because you’re pissed.”