Kiss Me in the Dark Anthology - Monica James Page 0,89
fuck, your little fiancée is an apparition. That dress. That body. That hair and face.” Matteo whistled.
Anger surged through me. Matteo and I often talked about women like that, and even with less favorable words, but this was different.
“She’s a child,” I said dismissively, hiding my annoyance. Matteo would only irk me further if I gave him an opening.
“She didn’t look like a child to me,” he said, then clucked his tongue. He nudged Cesare. “What do you say? Is Luca blind?”
Cesare shrugged with a careful glance in my direction. “I didn’t look at her closely.”
“What about you, Romero? You got functioning eyes in your head?”
Romero looked up, then quickly looked back down to his drink. I stifled a smirk.
Matteo threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck, Luca, did you tell your men you’d cut their dicks off if they looked at that girl? You aren’t even married to her.”
“She’s mine,” I said quietly. I glared at Matteo. My men respected me, but Matteo was a losing battle. Not that I had to worry. He’d never lay hand on my woman.
Matteo shook his head. “For the next three years, you’ll be in New York and she will be here. You can’t always keep an eye on her, or do you intend to threaten every man in the Outfit? You can’t cut off all of their dicks. Maybe Scuderi knows of a few eunuchs who can keep watch over her.”
“I’ll do what I have to,” I said, swirling the drink in my glass. I had considered what Matteo had said before, and it didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t like the idea of being so far from Aria. Three years were a long time. She was beautiful and vulnerable, a dangerous combination in our world.
“Cesare, find the two idiots who are supposed to guard Aria,” I ordered.
Cesare left immediately and returned ten minutes later with Umberto and Raffaele. Scuderi was a step behind them, looking pissed.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked.
“I want to have a word with the men you chose to protect what’s mine.”
“They are good soldiers, both of them. Raffaele is Aria’s cousin, and Umberto has worked for me for almost two decades.”
I mustered them both. “I’d like to decide for myself if I trust them.” I stepped up to Umberto. He was almost a head smaller than me. “I hear you’re good with the knife.”
“The best,” Scuderi interjected. I wanted to silence him once and for all.
“Not as good as your brother, as rumor has it,” Umberto said with a nod toward Matteo, who flashed him his shark grin. “But better than any other man in our territory,” Umberto admitted eventually.
Matteo was the best with a knife. “Are you married?” I asked next. Not that marriage had ever stopped a man from having another woman.
Umberto nodded. “For twenty-one years.”
“That’s a long time,” Matteo said. “Aria must look awfully delicious in comparison to your old wife.”
I shot Matteo a look. Couldn’t he keep his mouth shut for a second?
Umberto’s hand twitched an inch toward the holster around his waist. My own hand was already resting on my gun. I met Umberto’s gaze. He cleared his throat. “I’ve known Aria since her birth. She is a child.”
He said it with a hint of reproach. If he thought that would make me feel guilty or anything close to it, he was a fool. “She won’t be a child for much longer,” I said.
“She will always be a child in my eyes. And I’m faithful to my wife.” Umberto glared at Matteo. “If you insult my wife again, I’ll ask your father for permission to challenge you in a knife fight to defend her honor, and I’ll kill you.”
That would make Matteo’s day. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a bloody knife fight, probably not even a pussy. “You could try,” Matteo said, baring his teeth, “but you would not succeed.”
Umberto wasn’t a threat. Neither for Matteo, nor for Aria. I could tell he was protective of her in a fatherly way. “I think you’re a good choice, Umberto.”
I turned to Raffaele. If we’d been in New York, I’d have already put a bullet in his head. Perhaps he thought I hadn’t seen the looks he’d given Aria when he thought nobody was paying attention. I stepped right in front of him. He craned his neck to meet my gaze. He tried to look cool. He wasn’t fooling me. There was fear. Good.