Page 12 of Shattered King

Fiorella

I try to shake off the meeting with my father, but I keep thinking about his thin face and his sad smile. It’s impossible to imagine our family without him.

Even though he failed me and Elisa in a dozen little ways, I still love him. And I still don’t want to lose him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Luca watches me from across the kitchen. He stands on the other side of the room like he’s not sure if he can come any closer.

Not that I can blame him. My grief must feel contagious.

“I’m fine. Honestly, you can go.”

He hesitates, clearly torn. “Make yourself at home,” he says at last, turning away. “I’ll be upstairs in my office if you need me.”

Then he leaves. I wrap my arms around myself and stand in the quiet. I feel a sudden rush of relief knowing I won’t be alone in here. Even though he’s giving me space, at least he’s staying in the house. He doesn’t owe me that, but he’s doing it anyway. And I honestly don’t know why.

We’re just fake spouses. I’m a signature on a document. I’m initials at the bottom of a contract. Nothing more.

It’s strange looking around the completely unfamiliar house.

This is going to be mine from now on. It’s a decent Philly row home, on the larger side, in a very good neighborhood deep in the heart of Marino territory.

He clearly put some work into this place over the years.

The kitchen’s been modernized with all new gleaming appliances and a contemporary feel.

The living room’s filled with a big comfortable couch, small decorations on bookshelves, and a modernist-looking table. All very expensive.

He’s got decent taste. I’ll give him that.

I expected a frat house, but got a high-end bachelor pad instead.

There’s not a lot of personality—mostly he’s got generic paintings and photographs on the wall—but at least everything is high-end and luxurious.

I’m already thinking about how I’ll add a splash of green by hanging planters near the big back window and up on the second-floor landing.

I move quietly through the house, checking out all the rooms except for his office. That door is closed, and I don’t want to open it right now. Not with him on the other side.

The master bedroom is spacious and comfortable. I like the updated master bathroom too. I poke my head into the closet and frown at all the empty space; clearly, someone needs to hang more stuff in here. My dresses will do nicely.

I yelp when I come back out. Luca’s standing near the bed, plugging his phone into a cable on the nightstand. He glances at me over his shoulder, frowning slightly. “Forgot you weren’t alone?”

“No, sorry,” I say, heart racing. “Just didn’t hear you, that’s all.”

“Floorboards don’t make much noise. I hate it when they creak.”

“Good to know.” I catch my breath and glance toward the door. “Listen, I should go back home and start packing. I have a lot of stuff to bring over.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t let you do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not safe.”

I stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s kidding. But like usual, Luca only looks back at me impassively. “So how am I supposed to get my clothes over here?”

“Call your sister.”

“She’s not my moving company. That’s not how it works.”

“I’ll send some of my men over to carry your things here.”

“But it still has to get packed. If you drive me over now?—”

“Not safe,” he says, cutting me off. “And before you start to argue, I’m telling you straight out. I’m not going to change my mind. You’re not going anywhere. Find another solution.”

I stare at him as fury boils in my stomach. “I’m having a shitty day,” I say through my teeth. “Don’t make it worse. Just take me over so I can pack my things.”

“Call your sister.” He turns to the door and starts to leave.

“You don’t get to do this, you know,” I say to his back, hands turned into fists. I feel small and powerless, and I absolutely hate it. This is the worst feeling in the world. I’ve been struggling my whole life against this exact sort of smallness .

“You don’t get to command me like I’m one of your soldiers or something.”

“You’re right. You’re not. I wouldn’t care about any of them enough to keep them home.”

“That’s how you’re going to justify this? You’re not being controlling, you’re just being protective?”

“That’s exactly right.” He looks back at me, face dead serious. “Someone wants you dead, Fiorella. It’s my job to make sure they don’t make it happen.”

One hand brushes against my throat. I remember that big bastard’s palms wrapped around my windpipe, squeezing and squeezing.

“I’m just asking for my things.”

“Call your sister. Tell her to pack what you need.”

The annoying thing is, I’m sure Elisa would do it, but I don’t want to start our relationship out like this. If he knows he can bully me around, he’ll always do it. I can’t back down right now. This is going to set the tone for everything else.

“If you won’t take me, then I’ll get a cab.”

His expression darkens. “Like hell you will. Do you want to die?”

“Maybe I’d rather be dead than a prisoner.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “This is just about the nicest prison you’ll ever see.”

“Still a prison.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the doorbell rings. I flinch, looking past him toward the hall, and his expression darkens. He reaches for something in his waistband, and I realize he’s got a gun tucked against the small of his back.

He’s seriously walking around his own house with a weapon?

I follow as he heads downstairs. The doorbell rings a second time, and he’s tense right up until he glances out the front window. Then his entire posture changes as he answers the door.

“How’s the newlywed doing?” Adriano Marino stands on the threshold, grinning as he claps his hand against Luca’s and pulls him into a hug.

I recognize him from photographs and from seeing him around my father’s house when they were negotiating my marriage.

We spoke once, very briefly. He seemed much more intense than he does right now.

A woman’s with him. She’s petite and very pretty, with little wisps of dark hair framing her delicate face. I like her big, round eyes. They seem very kind, and she’s got a good smile. Plus absolutely perfect posture.

“We’re doing good.” Luca glances back at me as Adriano and the woman come into the house. He shuts the door behind him. “I want you both to officially meet my wife, Fiorella. And Fio, this is Adriano and his wife, Lucy.”

“Good to meet you again,” Adriano murmurs. He shakes my hand with a slight smile when I come down the stairs.

“You know, Luca told me you were pretty, but I didn’t realize how lucky he really was.” Lucy gives me a tight hug. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, surprised at how warm she’s being. “I didn’t know you two were stopping over.” I feel awkward, and the argument I was having with Luca still hasn’t resolved itself.

“We wanted to drop in and check on you two.” Adriano shares a look with Luca. “Can I borrow him for a few minutes?”

“We’ll get to know each other.” Lucy slips her arm through mine. Even though she’s smaller than me, she tugs me away from them with ease. “Let the boys talk for a little while, right? They always think their business is so important.”

“It’s not?” I ask, a little off guard.

“Most of the time I’m pretty sure they’re just measuring dicks and talking about killing each other.” She smiles sweetly at me. “Sometimes they have real business, but you know how it is.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say as Lucy takes me into the backyard. We sit on the patio furniture. “I’m sorry, I’d offer to make you tea or something, but I have no clue where he keeps any of that stuff. I’m not really much of a host right now.”

Lucy laughs lightly and waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I wanted to talk to you alone for a few minutes, just to see how you’re holding up. I know what you’re going through right now.”

“You do?” I tilt my head, feeling pretty skeptical. It’s hard for me to believe anyone could have any clue how I’m feeling. My father’s dying, and I was forced to marry a stranger this morning. I don’t know how it could get any worse.

“My marriage to Adriano was an arrangement. We didn’t have the best start in the world.” She wrinkles her nose, her smile getting bigger. “We met at an orgy.”

“An… orgy?”

“A sex party. Adriano puts them on, or he used to. I think people figured out he was recording them.”

I stare at her blankly, trying to decide if she’s joking or not, but she seems perfectly sweet and earnest. I’m not sure what to make of it.

“Well… I guess that’s good? I mean, not the recording part, but the way you two met?”

“My grandmother sent me there to seduce him.” Lucy sighs, leaning back in her chair. “Those were the days.”

“Your grandmother…” I trail off, feeling like I just got thrown into a giant freezing lake.

“Anyway, sorry, I don’t mean to talk about myself. I know how the first few weeks can be pretty hard, especially in your situation. This was all really rushed and last minute, right? That’s not what Adriano wanted.”

“He wanted to make sure I was safe,” I say, finding myself defending Luca even though I don’t actually want to.

“Do you need anything? Anything at all? Even simple stuff, like a toothbrush, clean clothes, anything to make you more comfortable.”

I sit up straight. “I really want to go home and pack, but Luca thinks it’s too dangerous. Maybe if you?—”

“Don’t you worry, you can leave it to me.” Lucy nearly bounces with excitement. “I’ll head over to your place as soon as we’re done here and get you all set up.”

“No, I mean, I wanted?—”

“Anything you want in particular? Or should I just bring everything? Oh, this is going to be fun. I’ll start by choosing some really good outfits.”

“Sorry, I think I’m not being clear?—”

But Lucy’s not listening. She’s already planning how she’ll start with underwear and finish with toiletries. “Give me a few hours and you’ll be all set by the time I’m finished.”

I want to argue, but she seems legitimately excited to go shove all my stuff into bags. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’d rather do it all myself.

“Elisa will help. That’s my sister. I have a feeling you two are going to get along really well.”

“Amazing, I can’t wait to meet her.” Lucy’s smile could melt a glacier. Even though I’m still frustrated, I find it impossible to be angry with her.

We talk a little more about acclimating to new places. She asks me questions about my home life before coming here, and basically, we spend a few minutes getting to know each other. The guys come out ten minutes after that.

“Sorry to run, but work calls,” Adriano says as he steers his wife to the door.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to your place right now,” she says and pats her husband’s cheek lightly when he gives her a hard look. “Don’t worry about it, darling. I’ll bring muscle.”

“You’d better,” he murmurs and kisses her cheek. He steers her to the door with a possessive arm around her shoulders. “You two sit tight. Luca, don’t do anything stupid. We’ll figure this shit out with the uncle soon enough.”

“I’m not feeling patient,” Luca says darkly, glancing at me. “The stakes are too high.”

“We’ll handle it.” Adriano nods at him.

“Great meeting you!” Lucy chirps before she’s led out the door and into the afternoon.

I watch them go with a sinking feeling.

A part of me thinks they’re the last visitors I’m going to have for a while.

“She’s good people,” Luca comments as I turn back into the house. “You can trust her.”

“Trust her more than I can trust you?” I move past him and head up the stairs. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“Take it in our room. No more guest bed.”

I pause and look back over my shoulder. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“I want you close.”

“And that’s a little too close.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my responsibility, which means I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure not a single hair on that pretty fucking head of yours gets bent out of shape.”

“Screw you, Luca. I think you just like being a controlling prick.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think right now,” he calls after me. “So long as you’re safe. You can be as pissed as you want.”

Yeah, I can be pretty pissed; he’s right about that.

There’s nothing I hate more in the world than feeling like I’m trapped.

My skin crawls, and I feel like the floor is going to crush me up against the ceiling.

My throat and mouth go dry, and I want to chug a gallon of water, even though I’m not really thirsty.

I head into the guestroom because screw that.

But I stop dead as soon as I step inside.

The bed’s been stripped, and the bare mattress is tipped onto its side on the floor. The skeleton of the frame stares back at me, almost like a joke.

That psycho prick.

I’m fuming as I stare at the mess.

Like hell this is going to be my life from now on.