Fabiano pressed his face against my ribs almost painfully and I stroked his hair, feeling him tremble. Father was watching with a disapproving frown. He thought Fabiano was too old to show emotions like that, as if a boy couldn’t be sad. They would have to leave for the airport soon. Father needed to return to Chicago to conduct business as usual. I wished they could have stayed longer, but Luca and I would leave for New York today as well.
Fabiano sniffed, then pulled back, looking up at me. Tears pressed against my eyes but I held them back. If I started crying now, things would only get harder for everyone, especially Gianna and Lily. They both hovered a couple of steps behind Fabiano, waiting for their turn to say goodbye. Father stood already beside the black rental Mercedes, impatient to leave.
“I will see you again soon,” I promised, but I wasn’t sure when soon would be. Christmas? That was still four months away. The thought settled like a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach.
“When?” Fabiano jutted out his lower lip.
“Soon.”
“We don’t have forever. The plane will leave without us,” Father said sharply. “Come here, Fabiano.”
With a last longing look at me, Fabiano shuffled over to Father, who immediately began scolding him. My heart felt so heavy, I wasn’t sure how it could remain in my chest without crushing my ribs. Luca pulled up behind the Mercedes in his steel-gray Aston Martin Vanquish and got out, but my attention shifted to Lily, who threw her arms around me, and after a moment Gianna joined in the hug. My sisters, my best friends, my confidantes, my world.
I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I never wanted to let them go. I wanted to take them with me to New York. They could live in our apartment, or even get their own. At least then I’d have someone whom I loved and who loved me back.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Lily whispered between hiccupped sobs. Gianna didn’t say anything. She only pressed her face into the crook of my neck and cried. Gianna, who almost never cried. My strong, impulsive Gianna. I wasn’t sure how long we held on to each other, and I didn’t care who saw this open display of weakness. Let them all see what true love meant. Most of them would never experience it.
“We have to leave,” Father called. Gravel crunched.
I lifted my face. Mother walked up to us, briefly touched my cheek, then took Lily’s arm and led her away from me. Another piece of myself gone. Gianna didn’t loosen her iron grip on me.
“Gianna!” Father’s voice was like a whip.
She raised her head, eyes red, her freckles standing out even more. We locked gazes and for a moment neither of us said anything. “Call me every day. Every single day,” Gianna said fiercely. “Swear it.”
“I swear,” I choked out.
“Gianna, for Christ’s sake! Do I have to come get you?”
She backed away from me slowly, then she whirled around and practically fled into the car. I walked a few steps after them as their car drove down the long driveway. Neither of my sisters turned around. When they finally turned a corner and were gone, I was strangely relieved. I cried for myself for a while, and nobody interrupted me. Yet I knew I wasn’t alone. At least, not in the physical sense.
When I finally turned around, Luca and Matteo stood on the steps behind me. Luca stared at me with a look I didn’t have the energy to read. He probably thought me pathetic and weak. That was the second time I’d cried in front of him. But today hurt worse. He came down the steps while Matteo stayed behind.
“Chicago isn’t the end of the world,” Luca said calmly.
He couldn’t understand. “It might as well be. I’ve never been separated from my sisters and brother. They were my whole world.”
Luca didn’t say anything. He gestured to his car. “We should leave. I have a meeting tonight.”
I nodded. Nothing kept me here. Everyone I cared about was gone.
“I’ll be behind you,” Matteo said, then headed for a motorcycle.
I sank into the taupe-colored leather seats of the Aston Martin. Luca closed the door, walked around the hood and settled behind the steering wheel.
“No bodyguard?” I asked tonelessly.
“I don’t need bodyguards. Romero is for you. And this car doesn’t exactly have room for additional passengers.” He started the engine, the deep rumbling filling the inside. I faced the window as we drew away from the Vitiello mansion. It felt surreal that my life could change so drastically because of a wedding. But it had, and would only change even more.
CHAPTER NINE
The drive to New York passed in silence. I was glad Luca hadn’t tried to make conversation. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and sadness. Soon skyscrapers rose up around the car as we crept through New York at a glacial pace. I didn’t care. The longer the drive took, the longer I could pretend I didn’t have a new home, but eventually we pulled into an underground garage. We got out of the car without a word and Luca took our bags from the trunk. Most of my belongings had already been brought to Luca’s apartment a few days ago, but this would be the first time I saw where he lived.
I lingered next to the car as Luca headed for the elevator doors. He glanced over his shoulder and stopped as well. “Thinking about running?”
Every single day.
I walked up to him. “You would find me,” I said simply.
“I would.” There was steel in his voice. He jabbed a card into a slot and the elevator doors glided open, revealing marble, mirrors and a small chandelier. The opulence made it clear that this wasn’t a normal apartment building. We stepped inside, and nerves twisted my stomach.
I’d been alone with Luca last night and during the ride here, but the thought of being alone in his penthouse was somehow worse. This was his kingdom. Who was I kidding? Pretty much all of New York was his empire. He leaned against the mirrored wall and watched me as the elevator began its ascent. I wished he’d say something, anything, really. It would distract me from the panic rising up my throat. My eyes flitted to the screen showing which floor we were on. We were already on floor twenty and hadn’t stopped yet.
“The elevator is private. It leads only to the last two floors of the building. My penthouse is at the top, and Matteo has his apartment on the floor below.”
“Can he come into our penthouse whenever he wants?”
Luca scanned my face. “Are you scared of Matteo?”
“I’m scared of the both of you. But Matteo seems more volatile, while I doubt you’d ever do anything you haven’t thought through. You seem like someone who’s always firmly in control.”
“Sometimes I lose control.”
I twisted my wedding ring around my finger, avoiding his eyes. That was information I didn’t need to know.
“You have nothing to worry about when it comes to Matteo. He’s used to coming over to my place whenever he wants, but things will change now that I’m married. Most of our business takes place somewhere else anyway.”
The elevator beeped and came to a stop, then the doors slid apart. Luca gestured for me to step out first. I did and immediately found myself in a huge living space with sleek white sofas, dark hardwood floors, a modern glass and metal fireplace, black sideboards and tables, as well as avant-garde chandeliers. There was hardly any color at all, except for a few pieces of modern art on the walls and art pieces made from glass. But the entire wall facing the elevator was glass. The windows offered a view toward a terrace and roof garden, and beyond that skyscrapers and Central Park. The ceiling opened up above the main part of the living area, and a staircase led up to the second floor of the penthouse.
I walked farther into the apartment and tilted my head up. Glass banisters allowed a clear view of the upper floor: a bright gallery with several doors branching off of it.
An open kitchen took up the left side of the living area, and a massive black dining table marked the border between dining and living area. I could feel Luca’s eyes on me as I took everything in, approaching the windows and peering out. I’d never lived in an apartment; even a roof garden didn’t change the fact that it was a prison that rose high above the city streets.
“Your things are in the bedroom upstairs. Marianna wasn’t sure if you wanted to put them away yourself, so she left them in your suitcases.”
“Who’s Marianna?”
Luca came up behind me. Our gazes met in the reflection in the window. “She’s my housekeeper. She’s here a couple of days per week.”
I wondered if she was also his mistress. Some men in our world actually dared to insult their wives by bringing their whores into their own home. “How old is she?”
Luca’s lips twitched. “Are you jealous?” He rested his hands on my hips and I tensed. He didn’t pull away, but I could see anger crossing his face. But I also noted that he didn’t answer my question.
I stepped out of his hold and headed for a glass door leading out onto the roof garden. I turned to Luca. “Can I go outside?”
His jaw was tight. He wasn’t stupid. He had noticed how quickly I’d shaken off his touch. “This is your home now too.”