Bound by Hatred (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles 3)

“Hey, where are you?” Matteo asked, squeezing my hip lightly. I blinked, focusing on him. I hadn’t even realized we’d stepped into the elevator.

I shook my head. “Thinking off all the ways this evening could end badly,” I lied.

“As long as Matteo keeps his knife in his holster and you keep your mouth in check, things should go smoothly,” Luca muttered, sending both Matteo and me a glare. “Tonight is important. Several of the attending business men are under pressure from the Russians. I want to show strength and make a good impression. It would be even better if you could manage not to offend the wives.”

“Why me? What about Aria?”

“Aria knows how to behave herself. She’s the perfect lady whereas you are anything but.”

Aria touched Luca’s chest. “Be nice to my sister.”

“I’m not rude to everyone. Only people I don’t like,” I said pointedly.

“Which will be everyone at the party,” Matteo interjected. “They are insufferable, believe me.” We exchanged a grin, then as if remembering our ‘kind of fight’ from a few nights ago, looked away from each other. I could see Luca give Aria one of those secret looks they always shared.

“Just behave yourself,” Luca said. “Both of you. It’s like God’s sent you two to me to test my patience.”

Aria giggled and hit Luca’s shoulder lightly, but her eyes were sparkling with adoration. Would I ever look at someone like that? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. It seemed like she was baring her soul for everyone to see and she didn’t even mind.

Together we stepped out of the elevator and into the freezing cold parking garage. I shivered. I hadn’t taken a coat with me because I only had to walk from the elevator to the car and then from the car to wherever the party was taking place, but now I regretted it. It was mid-December after all. One month since Matteo had caught me. Sometimes it was hard to believe so much time had passed already.

Matteo let go of me, removed his jacket and put it over my shoulders. His warmth and scent enveloped me, and I caught myself drawing in a deep breath.

“Thanks,” I said half-embarrassed.

Luca had done the same for Aria despite the short way to the car. Aria and I settled in the back of Matteo’s Porsche Cayenne while Luca and Matteo sat in the front. It seemed the men weren’t worried anymore that I’d try to jump out of the driving car to escape. Maybe they, too, had noticed how easily I’d settled in.

Aria leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I know you don’t want to see it but you and Matteo are like you were made for each other.”

I shot her a look, ignoring the way my pulse sped up with an emotion I didn’t even want to think about. “Don’t even start.”

Aria shrugged. “It’s the truth. And he’s really trying. They aren’t perfect but they are trying to be good to us. You don’t look unhappy.”

I wasn’t exactly unhappy, but I tried to attribute it to Aria’s constant presence in my new life. It was the convenient explanation. I didn’t say anything, couldn’t come up with a witty reply that wouldn’t sound utterly fake.

We sat in silence after that and yet I felt like my silence was more of an answer than I liked. I was actually relieved when we finally pulled up in front of a luxury apartment building not unlike the one Matteo and I lived in. A doorman rushed toward our car and opened my door. Good thing he didn’t see both Luca and Matteo reach for their weapons, always ready for an attack.

I thanked the guy who looked like he was barely my age, and got out. Aria followed quickly. We handed the jackets back to our husbands before walking into the brightly lit lobby. Another doorman waited next to the elevator and clicked the correct button for us.

As we rode up toward the top floor, Matteo leaned close and murmured, “Don’t forget to behave yourself.” He winked at me when he pulled back and I knew we’d be in trouble. Matteo’s expression promised that he had absolutely no intention to be good tonight.

The party took place in a huge penthouse overlooking the city. It was not quite as big as Luca’s but definitely showy. The walls were covered with drawings by Picasso, Warhol and Miró, all of them originals, and I had a feeling the furniture was as pretentious, but everything had been removed to fit two long tables for eighty guests into the room as well as a dozen bar tables where guests could mingle before dinner.

The noise level was overwhelming despite the size of the penthouse and there wasn’t anything Christmas-y about the decoration except for an abstract glass nativity scene on the mantle and an even more abstract glass Christmas tree in one corner. Aria and I looked at each other and almost burst into laughter.

My mood dropped the moment the host and hostess, a middle-aged couple that looked even more fake than their tree approached us. I braced myself for the disgusted once-over, but the woman smiled at Aria and me the same way.

The hostess who introduced herself as Miriam practically beamed at me, though it looked almost scary because her face was frozen from too many Botox-treatments. “You must be the beautiful new bride,” she said, and kissed me on both cheeks.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, startled.

I darted a confused look at Matteo. He must have read it right because he leaned toward me while host and hostess spoke to Luca and Aria. “They aren’t part of our culture. They don’t give a crap about our rules and morals,” Matteo whispered.

The hostess turned back to us. “Dinner starts in thirty minutes. But please help yourself to our delicious Hors d’oeuvres and Champagne.” She pronounced Champagne in an odd French accent, which almost made me laugh again, but I pulled myself together and smiled politely instead. The woman had been kind to me, so I had to act accordingly, even if Luca thought I was incapable of pleasantness.