Page 77 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

I glance down at my bare legs, my unpaintedtoenails, and the delicate nightgown clinging to my skin. Why would they wantme, just me, when they could have any woman they desired—women who wouldn’tneed to be shared?

Antonio took my virginity. That was his prize.But since then, I’ve surrendered to Alexis, and Luca has claimed my mouth. Anysentiment attached to my first time should be long gone.

Why aren’t they married? Why don’t they havewives, children, a traditional Sicilian life?

Luca returns, carrying a tall glass of waterand a plate. He passes me the glass first, waiting for me to drink, then passesme the plate. Three small Amaretti cookies rest together, delicate and golden.

“You should eat something. Keep your strengthup.”

The unspoken reason lingers between us. Mybody is small and weak compared to theirs. I’m one, and they’re three. I’m inexperienced,and they have years of sexual history. Three small almond cookies won’t beenough to prepare me for when Alexis and Antonio return, but I eat them anyway,not wanting to disappoint Luca or reject his kindness.

He settles into the chair, watching me as Itake slow bites.

“How’s Rosita,” I ask between mouthfuls.“Where did she go on honeymoon?”

“She’s fine. The Maldives.”

I frown, trying to recall the world map frommy geography lessons. “I don’t know where that is.”

“Islands in the Indian Ocean.”

I nod. “Her husband—do you like him?”

Luca arches a dark eyebrow and raises thecorner of his mouth into an even darker smile. “Do you think she would havemarried him if I didn’t like him?”

Of course. He’s not only a big brother but amob boss. No man would dare to claim his sister without his approval.

“What’s he like?”

“Raphael? He’s clever. A lawyer. Strong, froma good family.”

Good. A relative term. Does he meanpure-hearted, reputable, or simply an ally in their world?

“They seem very much in love.”

He huffs like love is a myth, a fairytale,something only young girls believe can be real. “Rosita is a romantic. Alwayshas been. She used to make me pretend to be her knight in shining armor. I hadto keep reminding her I was her brother.”

I smile at the memory. I remember that game.She tried to make me pick between her brothers, but even then, I didn’t want tochoose.

“So, maybe you’ll be an uncle soon.”

Luca’s expression twists for a second but thensoftens. “It’s hard to imagine her as a married woman. She’s my little sister,you know. And now she’s a Russo and belongs to another man.”

I tilt my head. “Women don’t belong to men,Luca. We choose to walk next to them, to lie by their sides, to give birth totheir children, to tend to their homes, and to suffer when they suffer. Ifwe’re lucky, they’re worthy of that devotion.”

His blue eyes sharpen as I dust the crumbsfrom my fingers over the plate. The weight of his attention is suffocating inits intensity but welcome still. I remind myself to breathe.

“You don’t want to belong to someone, kitten?”

I hesitate, playing with the hem of mynightgown. “I want to belong somewhere,” I admit. “I want to know I have a safeplace in the world.”

Luca’s gaze softens, something unreadableflickering in the depths of his eyes. “We can give you that.”

I glance up at him, finding his expression asserious as ever, his hands upturned where they rest on his thighs, open likehe’s ready to accept whatever I have to give. “If you choose to walk with us.”

My heart clenches. Those words—my words—echoback at me, wrapping around my ribcage like a promise I never knew I needed tohear.

His smile is quick and devastating, a flash oflightning in a midnight sky. He takes the plate from my hands, setting itaside, then effortlessly lifts me, gathering me in his arms and snuggling meagainst his body where I feel safest. Where I belong.

---