Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 7

7

ADRIAN

Three months flew by faster than ever. It had been endless days of sleepless nights, toddler tantrums and stressful workdays.

The morning of my bachelor night, I knelt in front of Stefan. He sat hunched over the iPad, completely caught up in the game he loved playing. His hair was a mess. There were tufts sticking forward, and knots forming in the back because he refused to let Esther, our housekeeper/ nanny, brush it. I hadn’t had the energy to restrain him for her, so I knew we’d end up cutting it short after the wedding.

“Hey, Stefan, I need to talk to you about something.”

He didn’t look up, so I reached for the iPad in his hands, but he turned the other way. “Give me the iPad.”

His little shoulders sagged forward. That was all the response I got. I took the tablet from his hands and set it aside. “Things will be changing soon. A woman is going to live here with us. She’ll be your new mommy, and she’s going to help me take care of you and Sofia.”

Stefan’s lips turned down into a frown, and without warning he launched himself at me, hammering against my thighs with his tiny fists.

“That’s enough now,” I barked, catching his wrists before he could land another hit.

But I couldn’t even bear to feel any anger toward him when I saw the tears running down his face. “Stefan…” I said, softer now.

I tried to pull him close by pressing him against my chest, but he fought against my hold, kicking and squirming until I finally let him go.

When my wife first died, Stefan had refused to leave my side. I couldn’t even go to work for an entire week because he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. But now, my son kept his distance like I didn’t exist. I didn’t know what he might’ve heard in the days leading up to his mother’s death, but whatever it was had planted the seed of hatred toward me in his little heart.

I set the iPad in front of him and straightened. Saying nothing more, I turned and made my way upstairs to Sofia’s nursery. The nanny slipped out as soon as I entered. Very soon, we would no longer need the nannies – Valentina would take over once she moved in.

Leaning over the crib, I found Sofia staring up at me. Her whole face lit in a toothless smile. Sliding my hands beneath her tiny frame, I lifted her carefully against my chest. She nestled into me, warm and small, as I stroked her fine, striking red hair. She and Stefan both carried their mother’s hair and eyes.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. The memory of the first time I had done that came back with a heavy force. I’d only met my daughter two days after her birth. Serena had refused to allow me anywhere near her during labor and refused to let me see Sofia until the second day. Even now, the memory made me want to punch

someone.

Sofia babbled softly in my arms, pulling me back to the present. I kissed her again, breathing in that powdery

sweet smell that all newborns seemed to have.

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Sofia was a needy baby, and she’d throw fits when anyone who wasn’t me or my mother and sister tried to hold her.

I could only hope that she would quickly get used to Valentina so we wouldn’t have any issues.

I reluctantly put her down and let the nanny take care of her. I couldn’t let myself be swayed by her tears if I wanted to be on time for my meeting with Rico, and then my bachelors party after.

Rico and his wife had arrived a day early for the wedding, so he could see how business was going in Chicago. I knew he wouldn’t have any reason to worry. I spent most of my nights awake, just to make sure things went on smoothly in my city. It was an hour before the bachelor night when we sat down together in my office.

I was surprised he’d even taken the time to come. Ever since his marriage, Rico had withdrawn from the public.

“It looks like my brother’s wife spared no expense on the wedding planning,” Rico said as he lounged in the armchair. “She thought of everything from doves and ice sculptures to silk bed linen.”

I froze for a second at the mention of white silk bed linen. Linen that everyone expected me to stain with my young bride’s blood on our wedding night.

I tipped my glass of scotch to my lips, then set it down. “Rico, there won’t be any display of the sheets. I won’t touch Valentina.”

Across from me, Rico lowered his drink, and I could see his intense eyes darken. He wouldn’t think it was about my dead wife, even though I hadn’t been another woman since she died. Rico was smarter than that.

“It’s custom,” he reminded me, his voice edged with warning. “It always has been that day.”

“I’m well aware,” I said evenly. “And while I deeply respect our customs, things will have to be different this time.” I knew the words were dangerous even as I said them, reckless even. I didn’t have the power to change tradition, that decision wasn’t mine to make. Only the don had the authority to bend the rules, and by the way he looked at me, I already knew he wouldn’t.

The truth was, I’d thought about it… about doing what was expected. Valentina was a beautiful girl. But every time I pictured her, I saw those wide, unguarded eyes. I saw the way she looked absurdly young in her childish clothes with her face untouched by makeup. The women in my past had been nothing like her. They had all been grown and experienced women, able to handle the kind of man I was.

“You didn’t seem to have any trouble respecting tradition the first time you got married,” Rico said, regarding me carefully. “You don’t get to decide when it suits you and when it doesn’t.”

I held his gaze. “That was different. The last time I got married, it was with a woman my own age. This time it’s not the same. I’m ten years older than Valentina. The first time she saw me, she called me sir. She’s still a girl in every way that matters.”

“She’s a woman now,” Rico countered flatly. “It’s her twenty–first birthday today, isn’t it?”

I gave a single, tight nod. “You know me. You know I’ve done everything you’ve demanded of me. I rule Chicago with the iron fist you wanted. I don’t flinch from the sight of blood or violence. But there are limits I

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won’t cross. And I won’t crawl into bed with a girl who looks at me like I’m a curse that has been brought down upon her.”

“She is a woman of age.” Rico said again, not backing down. “And no one’s telling you to use force.”

That was it. I snapped. I slammed my glass down on the table, shards of fury spilling with it. “Of age, yes. But that doesn’t make it right. Don’t act like you really believe she’ll come to me willingly. Submission born from fear isn’t consent. She’ll endure it because she has no other choice, not because she wants me in any way. You think I can stomach that? I have a daughter too, Rico. Do you think I would want her handed to a man ten years her senior?”

For a long moment, Rico studied me, and I wondered if he was deciding whether I was worth the bullet it would take to silence me. Stubbornness wasn’t something he forgave easily.

Finally, he spoke again: “You will show bloodied sheets after your wedding night. That is final.”

My mouth opened in protest, but he cut me off with a raised hand. “There will be no debate, Adrian. How you make those sheets bloody, that’s on you. But everyone has to see the bloodied sheets.”

I leaned back slowly, watching him suspiciously. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not hinting at anything,” Rico said coolly. “I’m telling you what I expect. Bloody sheets and proof of your bride’s purity and your strength as a husband. That is the way it has always been.”

Maybe I was imagining it, but it sounded an awful lot like he was giving me permission to fake it. I lifted my glass again, letting the burn of the scotch steady me, and wondered if Rico himself had ever done the same. I’d stood there years ago at the unveiling of the sheets after his wedding to his wife, but trying to picture him sparing anyone felt absurd. I’d seen him tear a man’s tongue out for flirting with his wife, and I’d seen him crush his own uncle’s throat with his bare hands. Mercy wasn’t in his nature.

No. This had to be something else. It had to be a test. He wanted to see if I’d do it, if I’d flinch at carrying out the duty everyone expected of me. In our world, the signs were easy enough to read. If you failed a test your Don set before you, there was only one outcome― permanent and bloody removal.

Dying didn’t frighten me. What haunted me was what that would mean for my children. Stefan and Sofia had already lost their mother in the cruelest way. If I disappeared too, if I abandoned them to this world, they would never heal from the trauma.

Showing any form of hesitation or weakness right now would be the most stupid thing to do. I couldn’t gamble with my children’s future, or with my position as Underboss.

I lifted the glass to my lips, letting the scotch burn its way down. “I’ll do what’s expected of me, Rico. Just as my father did before me, and as I always have.”

Rico gave a slight nod, accepting my words, but the air between us stayed thick with the tension of an unspoken threat. I knew Rico would be watching now, and until I proved myself beyond question, I’d have to keep my guard up.

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