Home > Luca Vitiello (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #0)(8)

Luca Vitiello (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #0)(8)
Author: Cora Reilly

“Who knows?”

I knocked.

“Come in,” Father said after he’d made me wait for almost five minutes.

“Good luck,” Matteo said with a twisted grin. I ignored him and headed into the room. I hated that I had to come running whenever he called me. He was the only person who could order me around, and he fucking enjoyed it. He sat behind his desk with that narcissistic smile I loathed more than anything. “You called for me, Father,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t give a damn.

His smile widened. “We found you a wife, Luca.”

I raised one eyebrow. I knew he and the Chicago Outfit had been discussing a possible union for months, but Father had never been very forthcoming with information. He loved having that power over me. “From the Outfit?”

“Of course,” he said, tapping his fingers against the desk and watching me. He wanted me to ask him who she was, wanted to draw this out, wanted to see me squirm. Screw him. I pushed my hands into my pockets, meeting his gaze straight on.

His expression darkened. “She’s the most beautiful woman the Outfit has to offer. A real stunner. Golden hair, blue eyes, pale skin. An angel come down to earth, as Fiore put it.” I’d fucked so many beautiful women. Only last night I’d fucked Grace on every surface in her room. Did he really think I’d be awestruck because he’d found me a pretty wife? If it were up to me, I wouldn’t marry anytime soon.

“I hope you’ll enjoy breaking her wings,” Father added.

I waited for the ‘but’. Father looked too pleased with himself, as if he were holding something back that he knew I would hate.

“Maybe you have heard of her. It’s Aria Scuderi. She’s the daughter of the Consigliere and she turned fifteen a few months ago.”

I wasn’t quick enough to hide my shock. Fifteen? Was he fucking kidding me? “I thought they wanted the wedding to take place soon,” I said carefully.

Father leaned back, his eyes looking for a flicker of weakness. “They do. We all do.”

“I won’t marry a fucking child,” I growled, done with playing nice. I was sick of his games.

“You will marry her, and you will fuck her, Luca.”

I exhaled before I said or did something that I’d regret later. “Do you really think our men will look up to me if I act like a fucking pedophile?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. They look up to us because they fear us. And Aria isn’t that young. She’s old enough to spread her legs and have you fuck her.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d considered putting a bullet in his head. He was my father, but he was also a sadistic bastard I hated more than anything else in the world. “What does the girl say to your plan?”

Father barked a laugh. “She doesn’t know yet, and it’s not like her feelings are important. She’ll do what she’s told, and so should you.”

“Her father doesn’t mind giving his daughter to me before she’s of age?”

“He doesn’t.”

What kind of bastard was Scuderi? I could see how much Father enjoyed my fury.

“But Dante Cavallaro was averse to the idea and suggested to postpone the wedding.”

I nodded. At least, one person wasn’t out of their fucking mind.

“Of course, we haven’t decided yet what to do. I’ll let you know once the decision is made. I’ll be in the dining room in fifteen minutes. Tell Nina I want a five-minute egg. Not a second longer.”

I left, knowing I was dismissed. Matteo leaned against the wall across from Father’s office. I strode past him, trying to get a handle on the rage burning through my body. I wanted to kill someone, preferably our father. I went straight toward the bar area in the living room of the house.

“What did our sadist of a father do now?” Matteo asked as he fell into step beside me.

I glared. “He wants me to marry a fucking child.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I thought he was trying to set you up with the most beautiful woman of the fucking Outfit,” Matteo said mockingly.

“They must be out of pretty woman over there, because they want me to marry Aria Scuderi, who’s fucking fifteen.”

Matteo whistled. “Holy shit. Have they lost their fucking mind? What did the poor girl do to deserve such a fate?”

I wasn’t in the mood for his jokes. I wanted to hit something—hard. “She’s the oldest daughter of the Consigliere, and she looks like an angel come down to earth if you believe Fiore Cavallaro.”

“So they marry her off to the devil. A match made in hell.”

“You’re starting to piss me off, Matteo.” I reached over the counter of the bar and grasped the most expensive whiskey bottle, which our father kept for special occasions. I brought it to my lips and took a deep swig.

Matteo snatched the bottle out of my hand and tipped it back, downing a considerable amount of the amber liquid before sliding it back over to me. We went back and forth like that for a while before Matteo spoke again. “Are they really going to make you marry that girl? I mean, I’m all for the kinky stuff, but fucking a fifteen-year old is too freaky even for me.”

“Her asshole of a father would hand her over to me tomorrow. That bastard doesn’t seem to care.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I told Father I wouldn’t marry a child.”

“And he told you to grow a pair and to do what your Capo tells you.”

“He can’t see why the girl needs to be older for the wedding. All she has to do is spread her legs for me.”

Matteo narrowed his eyes in that fucking annoying way he had when he was trying to figure something out. “And would you?”

“Would I what?” I knew what he meant, but it annoyed the living hell out of me that he had to ask. I expected that question from everyone else, but not him. He knew even I had certain lines I wasn’t willing to cross. Yet. Life could be a bitch, especially if you were in the mob, so I’d learned that ‘never say never’ was a motto to live by.

“Would you fuck her?”

“I’m a killer, not a pedophile, you stupid asshole.”

“Spoken like a true philanthropist.”

“Fuck you, and stop reading the fucking dictionary.”

Matteo grinned and I shook my head with a smirk. That fucker knew how to make me feel better.



Matteo had barely stopped talking since we’d gotten off the plane, and he obviously had no intention of doing so now that we were in the Scuderi mansion. I was seconds away from punching him in the throat. “Stop sulking, Luca. You should be happy. You’ll meet your fiancée today. Aren’t you curious how she looks? She could be butt-ugly.”

She wasn’t. Father wouldn’t let the Outfit cheat us like that. But I hadn’t found a photo of her on the internet. Scuderi seemed to keep his family out of the public eye.

“I’m surprised the maid didn’t follow us. It seems like a risk to let potential enemies walk through the house without supervision. Makes me wonder if this is a trap,” Cesare said as he kept looking over his shoulder.

“It’s a power play. Scuderi wants to show us that he isn’t worried about our presence,” I said as we headed in the direction the maid had pointed us toward.

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