Page 92 of Ruthless God

“Right, of course. And knowing my little sister, she would want to throw an extravagant party. You will need a dress that will make Massimo feel murderous.”

“Murderous?” I asked, not sure if I heard him right.

Matteo smiled as if the idea of his brother feeling that way made him happy. “Yup. Murderous that other men get to see you like that.”

It took me a moment to understand what he was saying. I laughed a little. “That’s not Massimo. He’s pretty… levelheaded.”

“Levelheaded, you say? Want to put your money where your mouth is, little sister?”

“I don’t have any money,” I muttered.

Matteo looked at me strangely. “You do know you’re worth billions, don’t you? Massimo has a trust in place for his wife—not that he ever thought he would get married, but it’s there. You’ll have access to it once you hit the five-year mark in your marriage, but that is beside the point. Massimo isn’t stingy with his money. I’m sure whatever is his is yours as well.”

I didn’t say anything, still trying to process the trust. I did not know that. Massimo never said anything about it.

Matteo pulled me into a cute little boutique before I could ask him more about it.

Two women greeted us right away, almost as if they were expecting us. And when I looked around and saw no other customers, I was almost convinced that was the case.

I tuned them out, letting Matteo do most of the talking as I took in the place, wondering if this was a familiar sight for Mom and Lina. I had never gone shopping. Most of my clothes were acquired by a personal shopper, and the taste was all in deference to Andre and how he thought I should dress.

I never had to think about what style I liked, what to pick out… what to do.

I was nervous.

I could feel the emotion beating its way up my throat, afraid I might do something to embarrass Matteo and ruin this easy and new friendship we were building.

Something warm touched my arm, and I turned to see Matteo. He frowned slightly. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “Do we have to be here?” I asked softly.

His frown deepened. “Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else if you want. Although this place is known for bringing in some of the best materials from Europe. It’s supposed to be in trend, whatever that means when Giulia says it.”

Matteo made a face, coaxing out a small smile from me. I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s just…” I leaned closer to him so the ladies around wouldn’t hear. “I don’t know what to do here.”

I could feel my cheeks getting hot just admitting to it.

He looked at me like he didn’t believe me. “Never done this before? Surely you’ve done something like this in Chicago.”

I shrugged. I hadn’t done anything like this in Chicago.

His jaw clenched. “What did they do? Keep you locked up in the house until they needed you to make an appearance?”

“I was allowed to go to school,” I said. I even have my college degree. In History. A pretty useless degree, but I had enjoyed my time there.

He shook his head. “That doesn’t count. And you’re no longer in Chicago. You’re no longer a Lombardi. You’re a De Luca, and as a De Luca in Las Vegas, you can get whatever the hell you want, got me?”

He sounded so passionate in his little speech I couldn’t help but smile. “Got you.”

“Good. And you have nothing to worry about. You just pick what you like, and I’ll have one of these lovely ladies ring it up for you. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon.”

I didn’t think that would be the case, but I didn’t want to contradict him, so I said nothing.

He playfully tapped my chin. “You got this.”

He seemed almost proud—as if he were getting me ready for something much more complicated than shopping for myself.

And the thing was, I didn’t want to disappoint him.