Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

VALENTINA

It was obvious that Adrian was uncomfortable with any kind of public displays of affection.

Adrian was quickly pulled into a circle of Rico and all the other Underbosses, leaving me exposed to the relentless questions of my mother and the endless chatter of my aunts. Their smiles were sweet enough, but their curiosity made me feel exposed, and after what felt like an eternity of dodging and deflecting, I finally managed to slip away.

I found refuge in the women’s restroom, locking myself into a stall just to breathe. For a few minutes, I sat on the closed lid of the toilet, pressing my hands against my lap, collecting myself in the quiet. My heart was still racing from the morning’s scrutiny.

When I finally stepped out to fix my makeup at the mirror, the door creaked open and Gemma walked in. She caught my eye in the mirror. Her smile was gentle, not prying. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?” she said, leaning against the sink as if she already knew the answer.

I gave a small nod. “It is. More than I thought it would be.”

She joined me at the mirror, pulling a compact from her clutch. As we touched up our faces side by side, she said quietly, “Are you really okay? You don’t have to pretend with me. Adrian may be my brother, but I’m a woman first. I get it.”

Her words made me think of Adrian’s warning that our marriage was ours alone, and that he didn’t want others meddling. Still, Gemma’s sincerity was hard to brush aside. I met her gaze in the mirror and said, “I’m fine. Really. But thank you for asking.”

Gemma studied me for a beat before her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Don’t let him change you into something you’re not. Our world has enough people who bend until they break. We need women who keep their fire.”

Her words caught me off guard. It was warm and encouraging in a way I hadn’t expected. Impulsively, I leaned in and gave her a quick hug. Unlike Adrian, Gemma didn’t hesitate. Her arms wrapped around me without a second thought, firm and reassuring.

When we pulled apart, I felt a little better. Having Gemma on my side mattered more than I could admit, but deep down I knew she couldn’t walk this path for me. If I wanted a place in Adrian’s life, I’d have to carve it out myself. And Adrian, being who he was, wouldn’t accept anything less.

By the time we finally turned into Adrian’s driveway, the sky had already faded into the dusky blues of evening. His house came into view. It was a striking three–story brownstone with tall white columns holding up the porch, elegant white window frames, and old, weather–beaten trees that leaned across the front lawn like silent guardians. It looked less like a home and more like a place meant to impress, the kind of building that demanded respect before you even crossed the threshold.

Adrian drove the car into one of the wide double garages. When the engine cut off, I stayed frozen in my seat for a moment, feeling my pulse skittering. Then he was already out, rounding the car with that calm authority

he carried in everything he did. He opened my door, and his presence immediately filled the space before I

could take a breath.

As I stepped out, nerves hollowed out my stomach. This was it. My home. My life. From tonight onward, these walls would hold me- and inside waited the children I was supposed to raise as my own.

Adrian’s hand pressed lightly against my lower back as he led me toward the grand white door at the center of the house. That touch had become almost habitual with him, guiding me, directing me. It felt almost like a claim more than comfort.

I couldn’t help thinking of the small collection of belongings I’d left behind at my parents‘ house, already packed up and delivered here by his staff. The thought made everything feel official in a way words never could. I didn’t belong to my old life anymore; it had been boxed, carried, and set down somewhere inside. these walls.

When Adrian slid the key into the lock, I caught myself holding my breath. His gaze flicked toward me, as if he could hear the stutter of my pulse. “This is your home,” he simply said.

I forced a smile, even if it didn’t feel real. I believed he meant it- he wasn’t one to speak without meaning. But it didn’t escape me that his house, like him, carried its own set of rules. Rules I hadn’t been asked about, only expected to follow. Judging from the way he had handled everything so far, Adrian didn’t share control. Not willingly.

If I wanted a voice within these walls, I’d have to earn it. Fight for it. He wouldn’t hand over power or freedom like a gift. And I knew already, those were battles I couldn’t afford to lose.

Adrian unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it just long enough for me to step inside first. The air smelled faintly of polish and something floral- clean, expensive, but not quite lived–in. My gaze swept over the wide hall, its floor gleaming white and gray granite like something out of a museum. I barely had time to take it in before a sudden burst of barking shattered the silence.

I jumped, heart lurching into my throat. From around the corner came a blur of reddish–brown fur, no bigger than a loaf of bread. The tiny creature launched itself at Adrian with surprising ferocity, teeth sinking into his trouser leg as it tugged and shook with all its might.

For a second, I just stared, then bit down on a laugh. The image of Adrian— the intimidating Underboss, tall and perfectly put together- being attacked by a puffball of a dog was absurd.

“Fuck!” Adrian’s roar snapped me out of it. His hand fisted, and his whole body stiff with fury. “Sybil! Didn’t I tell you to keep the goddamn dog locked away?”

My smile vanished. The lightheartedness drained out of me as quickly as it had come. He bent down, trying to grab hold of the squirming fluff, but the dog wasn’t finished. It twisted and snapped at his fingers, catching skin. His hiss of pain only deepened the storm in his expression.

Then, with one swift movement, he caught it by the scruff and hauled it up into the air. The dog squeaked, legs dangling, before it went quiet, hanging limply in his grip. The look on Adrian’s face made my chest tighten. He looked like he was weighing whether to crush the little thing in his bare hands or pull his gun and end it there.

Without thinking, I reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t hurt it,” I blurted.

This head snapped toward me, those piercing grey eyes still blazing with anger. The force of his gaze made me want to shrink back, but I didn’t move, not this time. I let my hand fall away, yet I stood firm, holding his stare, silently begging him to release the helpless animal.

Steps rang out and a tall dark–haired woman in her early fifties came running then stopped abruptly and cursed in Italian, looking to the floor. She’d stepped in dog poo, which explained what I’d smelled. Her black flats were now covered with it.

“That’s it,” Adrian growled. “I want this thing gone by tomorrow”

“I’m sorry, Mr. De Luca. I went into its room to clean and it slipped out. I tried catching it all day, but it’s too fast. And Stefan hid from me again. I don’t know-” She glanced my way and fell silent.

Adrian ignored her and stalked away. I followed hesitantly into a magnificent living room with beautiful flooring, then watched as my husband opened the terrace door and dropped the dog outside before closing the door. The dog peered in through the glass.

“You can’t do that,” I said, horrified.

Sybil gave me a look that conveyed I should keep my mouth shut. Adrian, however, ignored my comment altogether.

“Clean the dog shit,” Adrian ordered Sybil as he moved to a liquor cabinet, poured himself a drink, and sank down on the cognac–colored leather sofa. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the small dog sitting in the November cold with its nose pressed to the window. Sybil scurried away to follow her master’s command.

I stood in the middle of the living room, not sure what to do. One thing was for sure: I wouldn’t let that dog freeze to death outside. Adrian was the master of this house, in our society’s eyes- my master.

I walked over to the terrace door.

“Don’t.”