Page 18

Iwantto hear my name on her lips.
Even now, I'm fighting it. I'm increasingly losing the battle to latch on to sanity. Common sense tells me she’s a Rossi, my enemy. But the part of me that’s rebelling stubbornly holds on to that kiss at the altar, that night at the hotel, replaying it over and over. I shove it down, hard. I light a cigar. I need something strong to take the edge off what I'm feeling.
I’m in the study, my jacket off and my shirt unbuttoned. I stare into the fire as it crackles in the hearth. I draw long and hard on my cigar. She’s upstairs, settling in and getting ready to meet my crew, I'm sure. Yet, here I am, trying and failing…woefully to ignore the way my pulse jumps when I think of her.
Now that we're back, I expect her to shrink under my roof, to cower at the weight of my authority, but deep down, I knowbetter. Serafina doesn’t bend, and it pisses me off. I want to get under her skin, to see her falter, but she’s a wall I can’t crack.
This should be easy. It should make me feel better that she isn't easily swayed. That way, I know there's no way she's burrowing under my skin. Instead, I see it as a challenge, and it's thrilling.
A knock pulls me out of my thoughts. Matteo’s voice comes through. “Enzo, she’s ready to meet the crew.”
I grunt, downing the whiskey in one gulp. I drag long on my cigar before I finally throw it into the fireplace. I stand, smoothing my shirt. I head to the main hall, where my men wait, their voices mellowed. I wonder what they think about this union. I wonder if they think I'm making the right move. Will they revolt at it? Or will they be accepting of it?
My crew’s here—all of them—hard men whose loyalty is to me. They'll shield me even if it means dying. This must be a betrayal to them, too. I look to them, wondering if they’re sizing up this marriage. Perhaps they think their Don has lost his damn mind. Maybe I have.
How did I convince myself to agree to this? It's a great power move and all, but damn, it's a hard compromise. I have to show my men that this whole thing is a deal, and Serafina just happens to come as a package with the deal.
Suddenly, a hush falls over the room. I whirl to see Serafina walking in, and fuck, she steals the air. All the logic I'd conjured up to keep my attraction to her in check fly out the window.
Fuck, she might be the death of me.
Her dress is gone, replaced by a black top and pants. It molds her body, emphasizing every curve and edge. My eyes travel to her midriff, to the flare of her wide hips, down to her long legs encased in the pants. I lift my eyes slowly to her face. Her dark curls are loose, and those green eyes cut through the room to me, her gaze sharp.
My cock stiffens beneath my slacks. I groan inwardly. Nothing about her being here is going to be easy.
She looks like she belongs, like she’s here to conquer. My chest tightens, that attraction flaring, threatening to spiral out of control. I lock it down and carefully curate my face into a blank mask. Serafina Rossi is trouble.
I lean against the wall and cross my arms over my chest. “Gentlemen,” I say, voice low, nodding to her. “Serafina Rossi, my wife.”
The word tastes like ash on my tongue. I watch for her reaction to it. She doesn't show any.
Matteo steps in beside me, a dimpled grin on his face. “Well, damn, Rossi,” he says, his voice loud and teasing. “You clean up nicer than the don himself. Think I might trade you for him.”
The men chuckle, and I freeze, wondering what Matteo is playing at. Serafina is so still, but I can swear I see her lips twitching, like she’s fighting a smile.
She crosses her arms and shoots him a glare. “Funny,” she says dryly. “Very funny.”
Matteo stretches out a hand. “Matteo,” he says, “Enzo's right hand man and friend. I also double as his brother, although he'd rather chew stone than admit I'm like a brother to him.”
She looks sideways at me and seeing my grim face, she returns her gaze back to Matteo. “Nice to know that tidbit of information, Matteo. Don't you think you're trying too hard?” There's a playful lilt to her tone.
Whistles ripple through the room. Damn. She's holding her own. The men are impressed.
Matteo laughs, undeterred. “Come on, give us a smile. You’re family now, right?”
To this, she rolls her eyes, but her guard finally slips, and she laughs. The sound is low and husky. It softens her face. The sound hits me like a punch. It's like watching a flower unfurl in real time. Then it hits me…
She’s never laughed like that with me.
Of course, I can’t blame her, but it doesn't stop the jealousy that courses through me.
“Enough,” I snap, my voice sharper than I'd intended. I step forward, putting myself effectively between them. “Quit flirting,Matteo. She’s not your fucking friend.” The men fall silent. They glance over in apprehension, but Matteo just smirks, apparently enjoying my discomfort.
“Relax, boss,” he says, winking at Serafina. “Just warming her up for you.” She raises a brow, amused, and laughs again. She’s enjoying his nerve. It grates onmynerves. I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to smack him across the face.
I slide my hand to Fina's lower back, and I feel her body tense under my touch, but she doesn't shove my hand away. Good.
“Fina, meet my men.”