Luca chuckled. “I think you might know more about playing the game of power than I expected.”

I shrugged. “My father is Consigliere.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement, then he brought his hand up and cupped my face. “What I meant earlier was that your face doesn’t look like you’ve been kissed.”

My eyes widened. “I’ve never…” But of course he knew that already.

His lips collided with mine and my palms came up against his chest, but I didn’t push him away. His tongue teased my lips, demanding entrance. I gave in and hesitantly touched my tongue to his. I wasn’t sure what to do and looked at Luca wide eyed, but he took lead, as his tongue and lips ravished my mouth. It was strange allowing that sort of intimacy, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I lost track of time as he kissed me, demanding and possessive, his hand warm against my cheek. His stubble rubbed against my lips and skin, but the friction made me tingle instead that it bothered me. I could feel the restrained strength as his body pressed against me. Eventually he pulled back, eyes dark with desire. I shivered, not only from fear.

Insistent knocking sounded and Luca swung his legs out of bed and stood. I sucked in a breath at the sight of the bulge in his briefs.

He smirked. “A man is supposed to have a boner when he wakes up beside his bride, don’t you think? They want a show, they’ll get a show.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “Now go and grab a bathrobe.”

I quickly leaped out of bed with its stained bedsheet and hurried into the bathroom where I grabbed the long white satin bathrobe and put it over my nightgown before I picked up the remnants of my corset that I’d dropped last night.

When I stepped back into the bedroom, I watched Luca putting his gun and knife holster on over his naked chest, another knife strap with a longer hunting knife onto his forearm covering the small cut, and reposition his stiffness so it was even more obvious.

My cheeks hot, I moved further into the room and threw the corset down beside my ruined wedding dress. Luca was a magnificent sight with his tall frame, muscles and holster, not to mention the bulge in his pants. A hint of curiosity filled me. How did he look without the pants?

I leaned against the wall beside the window and wrapped an arm around myself, suddenly worried that someone would realize Luca hadn’t slept with me. These were all married women. Would they see something wasn’t right?

I braced myself when he opened the door wide, standing before the gathered women in all his half-naked glory. There were gasps, giggles and even a few muttered Italian words, which might have been prayers or curses, they were spoken too fast and quiet for me to hear. I had to stifle a snort.

“We’ve come to collect the sheets,” Luca’s stepmother said in what was barely hidden glee.

Luca stepped back, opening the door wider. At once several women stepped in, their eyes darting to the bed and the stain, then to me. I knew my face was red, even though it wasn’t my blood on the sheets. How could these women jump at the chance to see proof of my taken virginity? Didn’t they have any compassion? Maybe they thought it was only fair I went through the same as they had. I looked away, unable to bear their scrutiny. Let them make from that what they wanted. Most guests had left, especially politicians and other non-mafia folk; only the closest family was supposed to bear witness to the presentation of the sheets, but from the number of women gathered in the corridor and in the bedroom, you wouldn’t have known.

Only women of marriage age were allowed to be present when the sheets were taken down – as not to frighten the pure virgin eyes of younger girls. I could see my aunts among the spectators, as well as my mother, Valentina and Bibiana, but the women from Luca’s family were in the front since it was their tradition, not ours. Now it is yours as well, I reminded myself with a twinge. Luca met my eyes briefly from across the room. We shared a secret now. I couldn’t help but feel grateful toward my husband, even though I didn’t want to be grateful for something like that. But in our world you had to be thankful for the smallest kindness, especially from a man like Luca, especially when he didn’t have to be kind.

Luca’s stepmother Nina and his cousin Cosima began stripping the bed. “Luca,” Nina said with feigned indignation. “Did nobody tell you to be gentle to your virgin bride?”

That actually got her a few embarrassed giggles and I lowered my eyes, even though I wanted to scowl at her. Luca did a fine job of that, then he flashed her a wolfish smile that raised the hairs on my neck. “You are married to my father. Does he strike you as a man who teaches his sons to be gentle to anyone.”

Her lips thinned but she didn’t stop smiling. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me and squirmed under the attention. When I risked a peek toward my family, I could see shock and pity on many of their faces.

“Let me through!” came Gianna’s panicked voice. My head shot up. She was fighting her way through the gathered women and avoided Mother who tried to stop her. Gianna wasn’t even supposed to be here. But when did Gianna ever do what she was supposed to do? She shoved a very thin woman out of her way and staggered into the bedroom. Her face flashed with disgust when she spotted the sheets Luca’s stepmother was holding up and spreading over Cosima’s outstretched arms.

Her eyes found my face, lingering on my swollen lips, disheveled hair and my arms, which were still wrapped around my middle. I wished there was a way to let her know I was fine, that it wasn’t as it looked, but not with all those women around us. She turned to Luca, who at least didn’t have a boner anymore. The look in her eyes would have sent most people running. Luca raised his eyebrows with a smirk.

She took a step in his direction. “Gianna,” I said quietly. “Will you help me get dressed?” I let my arms fall to my sides and walked toward the bathroom, trying to wince now and then as if I was sore and hoping I wasn’t overdoing it. I’d never seen a bride, or anyone else, after they’d supposedly lost their virginity. The moment the door closed behind Gianna and me, she threw her arms around me. “I hate him. I hate them all. I want to kill him.”

“He didn’t do anything,” I murmured.

Gianna pulled back and I put my finger to my lips. Confusion filled her face. “What do you mean?”

“He didn’t force me.”

“Just because you didn’t fight him doesn’t mean it wasn’t rape.”

I covered her mouth with my hand. “I’m still a virgin.”

Gianna stepped back so my hand dropped from her lips. “But the blood,” she whispered.

“He cut himself.”

She stared at me in disbelief. “Do you have Stockholm syndrome?”

I rolled my eyes. “Shh. I’m telling the truth.”

“Then why the show?”

“Because nobody can know. Nobody. Not even Mother or Lily. You can’t tell anyone, Gianna.”

Gianna frowned. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like to hurt me.”

“That man would kill a baby fawn if it looked at him the wrong way.”

“You don’t know him.”

“Neither do you.” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me you trust him now. Just because he didn’t fuck you last night doesn’t mean he won’t do it soon. Maybe he prefers to do it in his penthouse with a view over New York. You are his wife and any man with a working dick would want to get into your pants.”