81

The commotion at the door stopped, except for Matteo, who kept shouting obscene suggestions about what Luca might do to me, or me to him.
“Shut up, Matteo, and go find a whore to fuck,” Luca shouted.
Silence reigned outside. My eyes wandered to the king-size bed in the center of the room, and terror gripped me. Luca had his whore to fuck tonight and until the end of days. The price for my body had not been paid in money, but it might as well have been. I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to quell my panic.
Luca turned to me with a predatory look on his face. My legs weakened. Maybe if I had fainted he would have spared me, and even if he didn’t care if I was conscious and carried me anyway, at least I wouldn’t remember anything. He laid his jacket on the chair by the window, flexing the muscles in his forearms. He was muscular, strong and powerful, and I might as well have been made of glass. One wrong touch and I would shatter.
Luca took the time to admire me. Wherever his eyes touched my body, he branded me as his property, the word “mine” branding my skin again and again.
“When my father told me I would marry you, he said you were the most beautiful woman the Chicago Outfit had to offer, even more beautiful than the woman in New York.”
Offer? Like I was a piece of meat. I sank my teeth into my tongue.
“I didn’t believe him.” He walked over to me and grabbed my waist. I swallowed the gasp and forced myself to stay still as I stared at his chest. Why did he have to be so tall? He lowered himself until his mouth was less than an inch from my throat. “But he told the truth. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and tonight you are mine. His warm lips touched my skin. Could she feel the terror pulsing through my veins? His hands on my waist tightened. Tears pressed against my eyes, but I pushed them back. I wasn’t going to cry, but Grace’s words hit me in the brain. She will fuck the shit out of you.
Be strong. I was a Scuderi. Gianna’s words flashed through my mind. Don’t let her treat you like a whore.
“NO!” The word came out of my throat like a battle cry. I broke away from him, stumbling back a few steps. Everything seemed still then. What had I just done?
Luca’s expression remained astonished, then hardened. “NO?”
“What?” I snapped my fingers. “You’ve never heard the word ‘no’ before?” Shut up, Aria. For God’s sake shut up.
“Oh, I hear it a lot. The boy whose throat I broke, he said it again and again and again until he couldn’t say it anymore.
I took a step back, irritated. “So you’re going to crush my throat too?” I was like a dog with my back against the wall, biting and biting, but my opponent was a wolf. A very big and dangerous wolf.
A cold smile rippled his lips. “No, that would go against the purpose of our marriage, don’t you think ?”
I shuddered. Of course it would. He couldn’t kill me. At least not if he wanted to keep the peace between Chicago and New York. That did not mean he could not beat me or force himself on me. ” I don’t think my father would be happy if you hurt me.”
The look in his eyes made me take another step back. “Is that a threat?”
I looked away from his. My father might risk a war over my death-not because he loved me, but to keep face-but certainly not over a few bruises or rape. For my father it wouldn’t even be rape; Luca was my husband and my body was his and he could take it whenever he wanted. “No,” I said softly. I hated myself for being submissive like a bitch bowing to her alpha, almost as much as I hated him for making me do it.
“But you deny me what is mine?”
I frowned. Damn, being submissive. Curse my father for selling me out like cattle, and curse Luke for accepting the offer. “I cannot deny you something you have no right to take in the first place. My body does not belong to you. It’s mine.”
‘He’s going to kill me,’ the thought crossed my mind a second before Luca stepped in front of me. Six feet four inches, he was frighteningly tall. I saw his hand move into my peripheral vision and gasped in anticipation of the blow, closing my eyes. Nothing happened. The only sound was Luca’s labored breathing and the pounding in my ears. I risked a peek at him. Luca was staring at me, his eyes like a stormy summer sky. “I could take whatever I want,” he said, but the nastiness was gone from his voice.
There was no point in denying it. He was much stronger than I was. And even if I screamed no one would come to my aid. Many men in my and Luca’s family would probably even hold me back to make things easier for them, not that Luca would have any difficulty holding me back. “You could,” I admitted.
“And I would hate you for it until the end of my days.”
He smiled. “Do you think I care? This is not a love marriage. And you already hate me. I can see it in your eyes.”
He was right on both counts. This was not about love, and I already hated it, but hearing him say it destroyed the last bit of crazy hope I had. I didn’t say anything.
He pointed to the perfectly clean sheets of the bed. “Did you hear what my father said about our tradition?”
My blood turned to ice. I had, but until now I had kept it out of my mind. My courage had been useless. I walked over to the bed and stared at the sheets, gazing at the spot where the proof of my lost virginity should have been. The next morning the women of Luca’s family would knock on our door and bring the sheets with them to present to Luca’s and my father’s, so that they could view the proof of our consummated marriage. It was a sick tradition, but I could not avoid it. The struggle exhausted me.
I could feel Luca coming up behind me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and I closed my eyes. I would not make a sound. But not crying was a losing battle. The first tears were already clinging to my eyelashes, then dripping onto my skin and burning a trail down my cheeks and chin. Luca slid his hands over my collarbones, then down to the hem of my dress. My lips trembled and I could feel a tear roll down my chin. Luca’s hands tensed against my body.
For a moment neither of us moved. He turned me toward him and lifted my chin. His cold gray eyes scanned my face. My cheeks were wet with silent tears but I made no sound; I only returned his gaze. He dropped his hands, pulled back with a series of expletives in Italian, and then hit the wall with his fist. I gasped and jumped back. I tightened my lips as I looked at Luca’s back. He was facing the wall, his shoulders panting. I quickly wiped the tears from my face.
You did it. You really made him angry.
My eyes darted toward the door. Maybe I could have reached him before Luca. Maybe I could have even gotten out before he reached me, but I could never get out of here. He turned and removed his jacket, revealing a black knife and a gun holster. His fingers closed around the handle of the knife, his knuckles already turning red from the impact with the wall, and he pulled it out. The blade was curved like a claw: short, sharp and deadly. It was black like the handle, so it could not easily be seen in the dark. A Karambit knife for close combat. Who knew that Fabiano’s obsession with knives would ever be useful to me? Now I could at least identify the knife that would rip me apart. A hysterical laugh wanted to come out of my throat, but I swallowed it.
Luca stared intently at the blade. Was he trying to decide which part of me to open first?
Beg him. But I knew he would not save me. People probably begged him all the time, and from what I heard that never saved them. Luke had no mercy. He was going to be the next Chief of Chiefs of New York and rule with cold brutality.
Luca came toward me and I gasped. A grim smile curved his lips. He pressed the sharp point of the knife into the soft skin under the crook of his arm, drawing blood. My lips parted in surprise. He placed the knife on the small table between the two armchairs, grabbed a glass and held the wound over it, then watched the blood drip down without an ounce of emotion before finally disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.
I heard the water running and then he returned to the bedroom. The mixture of water and blood in the glass had a light red color. He walked over to the bed, dipped his fingers in the liquid and then smeared it in the center of the sheet. My cheeks blushed at the realization. I approached slowly and stopped when I was still out of reach, not that it would do me much good. I lowered my gaze to the stained sheets. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
“They want blood. They take blood.
“Why water?”
“Blood doesn’t always look the same.” He would know.
“Is there enough blood?”
“Were you expecting a bloodbath?” He turned a sardonic smile on me. “It’s sex, not a knife fight.”
“He’s going to fuck you bloody.” The words were burned into my brain but I did not repeat them.
How many virgins have you brought to know? And how many of them came willingly to your bed? The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I was not suicidal.
“Won’t they know it’s your blood?” “NO.” He returned to the table and poured the scotch into the glass with water and blood.
His eyes stared into mine as he downed it in one gulp. I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose in disgust. Was he trying to intimidate me? Drinking blood wasn’t really necessary for that. I was terrified of him before I met him. I would probably still be terrified of him when I bent my head over his open coffin.
“How about a DNA test?”
He laughed. It wasn’t exactly a joyful sound. “They will take me at my word. No one will doubt that I took your virginity the moment we were alone. They won’t because I am who I am.
Yes, you are you. Then why did you spare me? Another thought to never leave my lips. But Luke must have been thinking the same thing because his dark eyebrows came together as his eyes roamed the length of my body.
I stiffened and took a step back.
“No,” he said quietly. I froze. “This is the fifth time you’ve walked away from me tonight.”
He put down his glass and took the knife in his hand. Then he advanced toward me. “Didn’t your father ever teach you to hide your fear from monsters? They chase you if you run.”
Perhaps he expected me to contradict his claim to be a monster, but I was not much of a liar. If monsters existed, the men in my world belonged to them. When he came in front of me, I had to tilt my head back to face him.
“That blood on the sheets needs a story,” he said simply as he lifted the knife. I gasped and he murmured. “That’s six times.”
He hooked the blade under the edge of the bodice of my wedding dress and slowly lowered the knife. The fabric gave way until it finally met at my feet. The blade never touched my skin. “It is a tradition in our family to undress the bride in this way.”
His family had many disgusting traditions.
Eventually I stood before him in my tight white corset with laces in the back and panties with a bow on the bottom. Goose bumps covered every inch of my body. Luca’s gaze was like fire on my skin. I pulled back.
“Seven,” he said quietly.
Anger surged through me. If he was tired of me pulling away from him, maybe he should have stopped being so intimidating.
“Turn around.”
I did as he ordered, and the abruptness of his breath made me instantly regret it. He came closer and I felt a gentle tug at the bow holding my panties. ‘A gift to unwrap. How could any man resist?’ Luca’s stepmother’s words leapt unwillingly into my head. I knew that under the bow the top of my bottom would be out in the open. Say something to distract him from that stupid bow on your bottom.
“You’ve already bled for me,” I said in a trembling voice, and then almost inaudibly. “Please don’t.”
My father would be ashamed of my open display of weakness. But he was a man. The world was at his disposal. Women were at his disposal. And we women were always supposed to give without protest.
Luke said nothing but his knuckles grazed the skin between my shoulder blades as he lifted the knife to my corset. With a hiss the fabric broke under the blade. I raised my hands before even that barrier of protection could fall and pressed the corset against my chest.
Luke wrapped his arm possessively around my chest, trapping my arm under his and grabbing my shoulder, pressing me against him. I was breathless when something hard hit me in my lower back. That was not his gun. Heat flooded my cheeks and fear gripped my body.
His lips brushed my ear. “Tonight you will beg me to spare you, but one day you will beg me to fuck you.” No. Never, I swore to myself. Her breath was warm against my skin, and I closed my eyes.
“Do not think that you are not mine, for I do not claim my rights tonight, Aria. No other man will ever have what belongs to me. You are mine.” I nodded, but he wasn’t done yet. “If I catch a man kissing you, I will cut out his tongue. If I catch a man touching you, I will cut off his fingers, one at a time.
If I catch a guy fucking you, I’ll cut off his cock and balls and feed them to him. And I’ll make you watch.”