I gave a terse nod. “Matteo is on his way to the Sphere. Why don’t you join him?”
Romero glanced at his watch. “My mother and sisters expect me for dinner. They’ll be offended if I cancel.”
When Romero had left, I made my way upstairs. The bedroom door was ajar, and I stepped inside. Aria came out of the bathroom, dressed in a white flowing skirt and a pink sleeveless blouse and pink high heels. A dash of color. Then my eyes registered her red eyes and the photo of her family on the nightstand farther away from the door.
“I wasn’t sure which was your side. I can move it to the other nightstand if you want,” she said, motioning at the bed.
I didn’t really have a side I slept on, because I always slept alone. I had the entire bed.
“No, it’s okay,” I said. The side farthest from the door was a good choice since that meant I’d be between her and a possible attacker coming through a door, even if it was nearly impossible to get inside the penthouse without my permission. Even torture wouldn’t make me give away the security code.
“Was the meeting okay?” Aria asked, hovering a few steps away from me.
“Let’s not talk about it. I’m starving.” I held out my hand, wanting the distance between us gone. Aria put her hand in mine, and I closed my fingers around hers loosely, marveling at how small it was in comparison to mine. I led her down into the underground garage silently. My mind kept drifting to Father and his lack of interest when it came to fighting the Bratva. He regarded the Famiglia and the Italian mob as superior and didn’t even consider that the Bratva could beat us at our own game. He was blind, and one day it would cost us parts of our territory. Truce with the Outfit wouldn’t change that.
I glanced toward Aria, the woman who was meant to bring peace. It seemed strange that she might have been my enemy if our fathers hadn’t arranged our marriage.
Aria noticed my gaze and turned to face me.
“You look great,” I said. Great didn’t even begin to cover it. Aria was so breathtakingly beautiful.
She gave me a small smile. “Thanks.”
I parked my car in a gated parking area that I always used when I was in the area. On our way to the Korean restaurant I’d chosen for the date, I caught the looks of the men, caught their admiration and awe when they saw Aria. My wife. Mine. The look I gave them made their eyes move on quickly.
Surprise flashed cross Aria’s face when I led her into the restaurant. Matteo and I both enjoyed Asian food and had discovered the place due to business a couple of years ago.
One of the waiters came up to us at once and took us to a vacant table in the back. The place wasn’t fancy. There were no white table cloth and fancy napkins. Instead, there were narrow tables and barely any space between them.
I ordered a lychee-martini, one of their signature drinks, while Aria scanned the drinks menu with furrowed brows. “I’ll have the same,” she said eventually, looking slightly overwhelmed and still stunned by my choice of restaurant.
“You look surprised,” I said when the waiter had left.
“I didn’t think you’d go for Asian food, considering everything.”
“This is the best Asian restaurant in town, and it doesn’t belong to an Asian chain. It’s independent.” The Triad hadn’t been as strong in recent years. They had focused their forces on the West Coast, which suited me just fine.
“There are independent restaurants in New York?” Aria asked, surprised.
“A few, but we’re in negotiations right now.” Either they paid us for protection or the Russians. There really was no other option.
Aria huffed, her eyes still busily scanning the menu.
“Do you need help?” I asked when it became obvious that she was overwhelmed by the choices.
Aria gave an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I’ve never tried Korean.”
I’d suspected as much. Scuderi didn’t strike me as a man who ventured out of his comfort zone very often. “The marinated silk tofu and the bulgogi beef are delicious.”
Aria’s eyes grew wide. “You eat tofu?”
“If it’s prepared like this, then yes.”
Aria regarded me like she saw me in a different light. Maybe she’d finally stop flinching whenever I was near.
“Just order what you think is best. I eat everything except liver,” Aria said, closing her menu.
I was glad she wasn’t one of those women whose list of the things they didn’t eat was longer than the list of things they did. “I like women who eat more than salad.”
When the waiter stopped at our table, I ordered for both of us while Aria battled the chopsticks.
“Have you never used sticks before?” I asked once the waiter was gone. I had to stifle laughter at the look of deep concentration on Aria’s face.