The Gianni estate was a fortress of shadows and glass. Aria had never seen so many chandeliers glowing at once, casting light that somehow made the place feel darker. She stayed close to Luca's side as they entered, her hand wrapped in his like a lifeline.
But the moment they were ushered into the banquet hall, filled with Gianni heirs and allies, Luca's grip loosened. His smile, the one he wore like armor, slipped into place. And just like that, she was no longer his lifeline. She was part of his display.
"Stay quiet. Stay behind me," he whispered, low enough for only her to hear.
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not a vase you set on a table."
"You're worse. You're dynamite. And I can't have you exploding here."
Before she could argue, the Don of the Giannis swept in, his presence commanding. Glasses clinked, voices hushed.
"Luciano Deluca," the man boomed. "You bring a… bride." His eyes slid to Aria, sharp and assessing. "We've heard whispers."
