Page 24 of Vegas Daddies (Forbidden Fantasies #17)
ALLIE
“ W e didn’t know you were coming, Dad,” Luca said quietly, his warm voice still carrying through the tense silence like a bullet. I noticed the deliberate lack of What a nice surprise or But we’re glad you came or We’re so happy to see you .
“Do I have to alert my family”—Mr. Branchini’s deep, accented voice carried a sense of entitlement, like that my meant his family was his property to do with as he wished—“when I’m coming to a family event?”
I saw Rose flinch, and in seconds, I was moving across the yard to stand at Luca’s side, the two of us subtly blocking his mother’s smaller form behind us.
Closer up, I could see that Luca’s father was an attractive older man.
That Luca’s well-honed features definitely came in large part from the man in front of me, though Mr. Branchini’s face lacked the delicate beauty of his son’s.
Where Luca was like someone painted by one of the old masters, elegant and lovely and just chiseled enough to not be feminine, his father was colder. Harder in a way that felt untouchable.
“No,” Luca allowed carefully, answering the rhetorical question. “But since we don’t usually see you at this kind of stuff, you can’t blame me for wondering why you showed up this time.”
If I hadn’t already picked up on the tension between the two men before, this certainly would’ve tipped me off that Luca felt less than warm and fuzzy about his dad. His voice had a rough edge to it that I hadn’t heard before, and a ripple of soft gasps went through the gathered family.
I kept my stance beside Luca firm, even as the unease thickened in the air.
Marco’s presence had a chilling effect on the atmosphere, casting a shadow over the barbecue that had been warm and welcoming just moments before.
I could feel Luca’s bone-cracking tension beside me, his jaw tight as his father scanned the gathering like he was surveying a distasteful hovel and finding it lacking.
Daphne was still clustered with the other kids, all of them seeming confused by the sudden shift in mood and pause to their play, but I felt an overwhelming need to keep her close.
I didn’t trust this man—not his sharp eyes, nor the cold disdain that seemed to settle into every word he spoke.
I excused myself from Luca’s side long enough to call Daphne over, crouching to meet her at eye level.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing a loose curl from her face. “Why don’t you come sit with me for a bit?”
Daphne, perceptive as ever, glanced around and seemed to sense the seriousness of the situation even if she didn’t understand it.
She nodded, taking my hand, and I pulled her close as I returned to Luca’s side.
If nothing else, I needed the assurance that she was safe from whatever storm was brewing here.
The Sanchez side of the family—lively and expressive just minutes ago—had settled into uncomfortable silence, their smiles forced and their eyes wary.
Even Luca’s mother, Rose, held herself differently, shoulders drawn in as if she were trying to take up less space.
Marco stood at the edge of the group like an intruder, though he acted as if he belonged more than any of them did.
Like he owned the place. Owned all of them.
The first cutting remark came soon after. One of Luca’s aunts, a warm woman who had earlier gushed over Daphne, tried to ease the tension by offering Marco a plate of food.
“You should eat, Marco. The carne asada turned out beautifully.”
Marco barely glanced at the plate before dismissing it with a single sharp shake of his head. “I doubt it was cooked properly,” he said flatly. “You always overdo it, Sofia.”
Sofia’s smile faltered, and she withdrew the plate, pressing her lips together in a way that suggested she was swallowing her words and maybe some building tears.
My stomach twisted at the casual cruelty.
I had no doubt that Luca’s aunt had spent the day preparing food for her family, and he dismissed it as if she were nothing.
I clenched my free hand into a fist, feeling my nails dig into my palm.
But it didn’t stop there.
Rose had remained silent, but Marco’s gaze eventually landed on her, and he made a beeline to her once he’d grabbed a beer from a cooler, popping the top and taking a long swig.
I felt her stiffen beside me the second her husband noticed her, and I tried to shoot her a reassuring smile before he spoke and made everything worse.
“I see you’re still content to let your side of the family run wild,” he muttered. “It’s a wonder Luca turned out even remotely respectable with the influences you’ve surrounded him with.”
Luca inhaled sharply beside me, and Rose flinched as if she’d been struck. I couldn’t stop myself—words bubbled up before I could think better of them.
“That’s uncalled for,” I said, my voice more brittle than I intended. Marco’s eyes snapped to me, dark and assessing, and I felt suddenly small under his gaze. But I refused to back down. “Rose raised a wonderful son. You should be proud of him.”
Marco regarded me for a long moment before scoffing. “And you are?”
I lifted my chin. “Allie Tate.” I tightened my grip on Daphne’s hand. “Luca’s wife.”
The lie felt heavier in this moment, but I refused to waver. Marco’s gaze flickered over me, dismissive and unimpressed, before he turned his attention away, as if I were an insect he’d deemed unworthy of his notice.
But the final straw came moments later, when his cold gaze settled on Luca.
“You’re getting soft,” Marco said abruptly, shaking his head in disapproval.
“First, you abandon your dreams of playing professional soccer to waste your time coaching children .” God, had anyone outside of the ranks of children’s movie villains ever spoken that word with such disgust?
Before Daphne, I hadn’t considered myself much of a kid person, but even pre-mom Allie would have gotten a bad feeling from that.
“And now, you’re parading around with this…woman and her baggage, pretending to be a family man. Playing father to someone else’s child. It’s pathetic.”
Daphne’s little face crumpled at this, a little sad but more confused than anything, and Luca’s ears were bright red with embarrassment. Rage. Something else I didn’t understand as an outsider just watching this situation unfold. The air in my lungs turned to fire.
Before I knew what I was doing, I took a step forward, anger propelling me as I placed myself between Luca and his father.
“How dare you?” I snapped, my voice clear and unshaken. “You stand here, surrounded by family, and you have the audacity to insult your own son? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
A hush fell over the gathering. I could feel Luca beside me, stunned silent, but I didn’t stop.
“Luca is kind,” I continued, my voice unwavering.
“He’s generous, loving, and valued by everyone here—because unlike you, he knows what it means to be a good man.
He didn’t ‘abandon’ anything. He chose to dedicate himself to something that brings joy to others, and that takes more strength than you’ll ever understand. ”
Marco’s eyes narrowed, but I didn’t let it intimidate me.
“And as for me and my daughter,” I went on, heart hammering in my chest, “we are not baggage. We are people . People who care about Luca. And we’re not too blind to see him for who he is—a good person. A man with real strength, not just the showy macho cruelty you throw around.”
Silence stretched long and thick in the aftermath of my words.
Marco’s face remained impassive, but the dark glint in his eyes told me I had gotten under his skin.
He had underestimated me, as so many had, and it felt sickly good to have proven him wrong.
Even if I was a little self-conscious about causing a scene at this barbecue.
I got the sense that the Sanchez family was in the habit of letting Marco’s asshole behavior slide. Keeping the peace.
That wasn’t really my style.
I felt a warm hand on the small of my back—Luca.
When I finally dared to glance at him, there was something unreadable in his expression, something soft yet intense.
His gaze held mine for a beat before he nodded subtly.
A silent thank you, I guessed —or maybe that was just my hope.
Maybe he was embarrassed. Even angry at me for not leaving well enough alone.
I turned, looking for Rose, and found her watching me with something close to pride in her expression. A quiet gratitude settled into the lines around her eyes. It gave me a burst of confidence, solidifying that I had done the right thing.
Without another word, I took Daphne’s hand again and started toward the car. Luca followed without hesitation. We didn’t need to say anything more. The message had been sent, loud and clear.
As we left the suffocating presence of Marco Branchini behind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something irreversible had just shifted between me and Luca. That standing up for him wasn’t just part of our charade—it was something deeper. Something real.
And I’d be lying if I said that didn’t scare the shit out of me.