Luca: The Boston Syndicate, Book Two, page 21
I spent a lot of time wondering about that, too. But I always go back to why Frank didn’t leave me on the Monaghans’ doorstep and disappear. “It was a bloody time for our families. When Frank told me he left with me because he didn’t want me growing up in this life, that the baby he saved was more valuable than being another soldier in this fight, it made sense to me. Now I know the Monaghans are different from what he thought, but at the time, he didn’t. Maybe your mom thought the same thing. Maybe that’s why she wanted to take you and Carlo and run. She didn’t want her kids growing up in a world that was trying to kill them.”
Giada hums. “Maybe.” She’s silent for a few moments. “Do you believe in fate, Luca?”
“I never gave it much thought. Why?”
“Maybe the reason Frank felt compelled to take you and leave Boston was so you would be here when I needed you. If you’d grown up with the Monaghans, you would’ve grown up hating my family. If you hadn’t wanted revenge and come back to Boston, I would be in the hands of the Russians. Maybe this was the universe’s way of righting the wrongs of our parents.” She tilts her head so she can look me in the eye. “You saved me, Luca.”
I kiss her soft lips because I can’t help myself. Giada grounds me, reminds me why I’m here and why those bastards won’t win.
“You saved me too, sweetheart.”
Chapter eighteen
Giada
“You’re doing great. Yup. Like that,” Gemma, Alessia’s best friend, comments as Alessia and I spar on the mat she brought over four days ago. We’re set up in the living room again while Luca and Finn are downstairs in the gun range doing a little target practice.
Being a dancer has helped me learn the moves the two women have spent their afternoons teaching me. I’m already accustomed to bending my body in ways that don’t feel natural and picking up on different moves after only a couple of demonstrations. Learning all of this is similar, except for the force I have to put into it. I’m not trying to hurt anyone in dance, quite the opposite, so I struggle with using the strength in my body to do so.
“Let’s take a break,” Alessia says before grabbing her water and taking a long pull from the bottle. “I have to say, I’m rather impressed at how well you’re picking up on everything.”
I preen a bit at her compliment. Alessia has stopped by nearly every day to work with me on either target practice or with Gemma to work on self-defense moves. I’ve never had someone care so much about me being able to take care of myself—or care about me at all, really. My brother, and who I thought was my father, sure as hell never wanted me to learn how to defend myself. They wanted to turn me into the perfect little Mafia wife. It’s astounding that a man as powerful as Mario Amatto was the one to teach his daughter how to handle a gun and support her training in boxing and all different kinds of martial arts. She was raised in the same world as me but so different. It makes me wonder about my real father, the one Francesco killed alongside my mother. Would he have made sure I knew how to handle a weapon? Would he have taught me the things Alessia knows now? There are so many things I’ll never know about him. I don’t even know what he looks like and it’s not as though I can go searching through my mother’s things. Everything was thrown out except her records that were in an old forgotten box when she died, as though Francesco didn't want me to have anything of hers that would bring me comfort.
“Gemma, you’re coming tonight, right?” I ask. Tonight is Alessia’s birthday dinner at the Monaghans. It will be the first time we’re leaving the penthouse in over a week. I’m a little nervous about it if I’m being honest. Not about being outside of these walls; I’m excited for that, but about spending time with the Amattos and the Monaghans. We haven't seen Maeve and Cormac since the first day we were here. I think Luca is a bit nervous as well. His family wants to get to know him, but there’s so much about his past he’s afraid to share. Like the fact he doesn’t hate the man who raised him. Luca has been struggling with merging the two men in his mind, the one who killed his parents and the one who cared for him and didn’t want him to have anything to do with this life.
Gemma rolls her eyes. “Of course I’ll be there. It’s Alessia’s birthday party.”
“Ugh,” Alessia groans. “Don’t remind me. I’m sure there will be plenty of talk about how I’m not getting any younger, and Finn and I should start thinking about having a family. We haven’t even been married for six months and my mother and Maeve are already salivating over the thought of grandchildren.”
Gemma gives her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know that’s a tough subject for you.”
I’m curious about why she says that, but I don’t pry.
“Well, you’ll have me to steer the conversation,” Gemma says brightly. “And as long as Eoghan stays out of my way, there won’t be any bloodshed.” Her wide smile is in stark contrast to her violent words.
“You don’t like Eoghan?” I ask, curious about the dynamics I’ll be walking into tonight.
“Oh, come on. Finn told you he was playing a joke on his brother at our wedding. Eoghan had no idea who that girl was,” Alessia says.
“Fair. But it’s not as though that makes Eoghan a saint. I swear, every time he’s around, it’s like he’s undressing me with his eyes.”
“Does he make you uncomfortable?” I ask. The idea that the goofy little brother could cause a woman to feel discomfort in any way surprises me. It doesn’t mean it’s not true, but it’s hard to imagine from what I know about him.
“She’s uncomfortable because he’s the exact kind of guy who she usually drools over.” Alessia laughs and Gemma sends her a scathing look.
“Exactly,” Gemma says. “I’m done with fuckboys. He’s all about the chase and getting what he wants.”
“I think you both want it,” Alessia mumbles.
“Shut it, lady. What I want and what’s good for me are two very different things, and it’s time I started focusing on finding serious relationships, not spending my time chasing losers.”
“Eoghan is pretty far from a loser,” Alessia comments.
“He’s also pretty far from being the type to settle down and take a relationship seriously,” Gemma retorts.
I watch the women banter back and forth lightheartedly, and a pang of sadness hits me. They remind me of me and my cousin back in Italy. God, I miss her and my family there.
“Let’s try to keep the claws sheathed. I love my mother-in-law and would hate for her to have to clean blood out of the carpets. It’s such a pain in the ass.”
Gemma grins. “Okay. I’ll do it for Maeve.”
The elevator doors open and Luca and Finn step out. My husband wears a smile I’ve been seeing more and more lately. As though he’s finally able to be happy now that he can be around his family and not have to hide behind the mask he wore at my house. It makes me regret that he had to hide himself for so long when he worked for my father. I know he doesn’t see it like that, though. He was doing what needed to be done for his cousin and himself.
Of course, there’s still this living, breathing tension with not knowing where my brother is. But in these moments when we’re surrounded by family and friends, or it’s just us, the tension eases, and Luca is allowed a few moments of peace.
Although when he notices me in a tight tank and workout shorts Alessia bought for me, his gaze is anything but peaceful. His hungry eyes sweep over me while his tongue wets his full bottom lip like he’s imagining what I taste like on it.
“I had a car sent over for you and Giada. Figured you didn’t want to drive that old jalopy you came here with,” Finn says, breaking Luca out of wherever his thoughts went.
“Sounds good,” my husband replies, his eyes moving to his cousin.
Luca and Finn move the mat to the far wall of the penthouse and set the living room back to rights before Finn grabs his wife’s and Gemma’s bag and they say their goodbyes.
After the door closes, Luca’s eyes find me and the heat he doused when his cousin spoke to him is back in full force as he stalks toward me, grabbing me around the waist and pressing my body into his body. “Fucking hell, sweetheart. It's a good thing I’m not the one working out with you. I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you.”
“That’s kinda the point,” I say, leaning up to kiss him. “You grab me, and I try to get away.”
“Wanna try now?” he whispers against my lips before gently grazing them over the damp column of my neck.
“Not even a little,” I reply, sliding my hands under his shirt. “But right now, I need to take a shower.”
“Mmm, You wanna know what I need?” His hands travel to the waist of my shorts and he dips his fingers just inside the elastic band.
“What?” I ask, having a very strong feeling of what it is.
“I need to taste you coming on my tongue.”
Luca’s lips travel from my neck to my chest as one of his hands comes to the neckline of my tank, yanking it down to expose my breasts to his waiting mouth. He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking hard, his other hand delving inside my shorts, two of his fingers spreading me as he rubs my clit between them.
“God, that feels so good,” I moan and clutch the skin of his neck, digging my nails into the heated flesh.
Luca backs me up to the backside of the couch and releases my nipple with a pop before lowering to his knees, kissing and licking my chest, stomach and hips on his way down, needing to taste every inch of me.
I’ve discovered a side to my husband that I never would have guessed was there. He’s filled with passion and a drive to make me come every which way he can. This particular position is one of his favorites, him on his knees, desperate to eat me out.
He pulls my shorts down and helps me step out of them before his mouth attaches to my center. I’m immediately overwhelmed by the feel of his hot mouth on my delicate flesh.
“Mmm, baby. Just like that. Ride my face.”
My hands clutch the back of the couch as my hips writhe over his tongue, grinding myself into his face.
The two fingers rubbing my clit slip inside of me as his tongue starts flicking over and over, first with just the tip, then he takes a long lick up and down, the change in tempo keeping me on the edge of orgasm.
“Luca, please,” I cry out, throwing my head back, desperate for him to make me come.
His chuckle vibrates against my flesh and he’s working hard to bring me to the peak as fast as possible, which for me isn't long at all. His skillful tongue is licking right where I need him. Then he curves the two fingers inside my wet channel and rubs over the bundle of nerves inside of me.
“Ahh,” I scream out as my orgasm tumbles through me, making my belly clench and my thighs shake as each wave crashes through me.
Luca rips his mouth from me. “Fuck, I need to be inside of you.” He stands and whips his shirt over his head before he roughly spins me so I’m facing the back of the couch and places my hands back on the top. “Hold on, baby.”
In one thrust, he’s buried himself so deep. The sudden intrusion takes my breath away. Actually everything about my husband has a tendency to make me breathless.
His movements are rough and possessive, unlike the times he’s taken me gently while we’ve both been coming to terms with the maelstrom of emotions threatening us in every silent moment. Now he’s taking what he needs and giving me the same. I need him unbidden and unafraid to remove the kid gloves and fuck me like our sanity depends on it. I need the brutality because it tells me he knows I can handle every part of him.
“God, I’m so close,” I cry into the room as his damp chest curls over my back, hearing the slap of wet flesh.
His fingers reach around to where we’re connected and he feels where his hard cock is moving deliciously inside of me, collecting the wetness there before strumming my clit. The touch is all it takes to set me off again, and I scream as another orgasm rushes through me, lighting my entire body on fire.
“Fuuuck,” he yells when his cock jerks inside of me, and he empties himself on a roar.
The sound of Luca’s panting breath is loud in my ear in the otherwise silent space. It’s in moments like these where the outside world feels so far off, and the only thing that matters is this little slice of happiness Luca and I have created for ourselves. The place where we can lose ourselves in each other like any normal newly married couple. You know, the ones that didn’t run from their psychotic brother and had their bodyguard marry them so they didn’t have to marry the son of a powerful criminal, only to find out that their new husband is part of a criminal family that hates theirs and has been working for years to bring them down. Jesus, this is all such a mess.
“I’m still buried inside of you, wife, and I can practically hear you overthinking.” Luca pulls out and kisses the back of my neck before standing straight and pulling my back to his front, wrapping a comforting arm around my middle.
“I’m a little nervous about spending time with your family, to be honest.” I turn my head toward him and look at his flushed face.
“I know, sweetheart.”
The first time we met, everyone seemed friendly, but I’d be lying if I said the years I was programmed to hate the Irish didn’t leave me with lingering doubts. And I fucking hate that. I have to remind myself nearly every day that I was lied to my entire life by a man who wasn't my father, who basically stole me for his own gain. Nothing he told me was true.
The Irish aren’t the monsters I’ve always been led to believe. I lived with the real monsters.
“Come on,” I say after standing in the living room for a few moments while Luca rubs small circles with his thumb over my belly. “Let's get cleaned up.”
When we pull up to the Monaghan’s large two-story house painted white with black shutters, several cars are already in the drive.
“Full house,” I mumble.
“Think of it this way; it takes the pressure off us a bit.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. I’m the daughter of the Monaghans and the Amattos’ number one enemy, and you're the long-lost cousin who’s secretly been trying to take down my family. But sure, we can go with that.”
“Look at me, Giada.”
I turn my body toward Luca, who I'm sure is facing the same nerves as me, and here I am, thinking about how I’m being affected and not my husband. I’m really killing it with this whole wife thing.
“We’re Luca and Giada Bennetti. None of what you said defines us. It may be our circumstances, but it’s not who we are.”
“Who are we?” I whisper.
“We’re figuring it out.” He leans over the console and places a soft kiss on my lips. “Come on, sweetheart. I got you.”
When we knock on the door, Maeve opens it with a wide smile on her face. Looking into her blue gaze, I see what everyone says about the Monaghan eyes. Luca, Eoghan, and Finn all share the same blue eyes.
“Come in, come in,” Maeve says, leaning in to give Luca a hug, then me.
“They would if you gave them a chance to step through the door, love,” Cormac comments, stepping behind his wife.
Maeve playfully smacks him in the arm. “I’m excited. Sue me.”
Cormac laughs and gently pulls his wife out of the way before stepping to the side to allow us entrance.
Walking into the large family room, I spot Alessia and Finn on the couch, with Gemma sitting across from them next to Lilliana Amatto and her husband, Mario. Eoghan is perched on the arm of the couch next to Gemma, who seems to be leaning away from him and doing her best to ignore his presence. The group sees us in the doorway, and everyone stands, welcoming Luca and me with kind smiles. When Lilliana and Mario greet us, their expressions are open and warm.
Lilliana leans in and kisses both of my cheeks. “Congratulations on your marriage, Giada,” she says in her light Italian accent. “Mario and I were thrilled when we heard the news.”
I smile in her direction, not really knowing what to say and wondering if she’s aware of the circumstances surrounding our union.
Mario leans in next, kissing both cheeks like the Italians do. “It’s good to see you again, Giada. Happy to have you here.”
“I’m going to check in with the cook. Dinner should be just about ready,” Maeve announces and walks out of the room.
“Drink?” Eoghan offers, walking to the small bar against the wall.
“I’ll have a glass of red wine if you have it,” I reply, and Luca asks for whiskey.
Small talk ensues, mostly about sports. Turns out Alessia and Mario are huge Red Sox fans and Finn is a die-hard Yankees fan.
“I’m sorry, Papa. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to convert him. Please don’t hold it against him. I’m sure in time he’ll see the light,” Alessia jokes with her dad.
“I just don’t understand how you can be born and raised in Boston and like”—Mario fake coughs—“the Yankees.”
“He’s a disgrace to the family,” Eoghan interjects. “See, Alessia? You chose the wrong brother.”
Finn shoots his brother a glare that would make most men wither, but Eoghan just lets out a bark of laughter.
Maeve comes back into the room and announces dinner is ready. We all gather in their large dining room to see a beautifully set table with a large arrangement of red calla lilies as the centerpiece. Finn and Alessia share a knowing smile before she mouths, “I love you.” His finger gently swipes across her red lips, then he leans in to kiss her softly before pulling her chair out for her.
Once we’re all seated, everyone begins passing trays of food around the table. It’s so different from the dinners I’d had growing up. Everyone here is family, made evident by the comfortable conversations taking place around me. I don’t know why I was ever nervous about coming tonight. This isn’t some formal, stuffy affair. It’s a family eating together, celebrating one of their own on her birthday.
