“The elevator is private. It leads only to the last two floors of the building. My penthouse is at the top and Matteo has his apartment on the floor below.”

“Can he come into our penthouse whenever he wants?”

Luca scanned my face. “Are you scared of Matteo?”

“I’m scared of the both of you. But Matteo seems more volatile while I doubt you’d ever do anything you don’t want to do. You seem like someone who’s always firmly in control.”

“Sometimes I lose control.”

I twisted my wedding ring around my finger, avoiding his eyes. That was information I didn’t need to know.

“You have nothing to worry about when it comes to Matteo. He’s used to coming over to my place whenever he wants, but things will change now that I’m married. Most of our business takes place somewhere else anyway.”

The elevator beeped and came to a stop, then the doors slid apart. Luca gestured for me to step out first. I did and immediately found myself in a huge living space with sleek white sofas, dark hardwood floors, a modern glass and metal fireplace, black sideboards and tables, as well as avant-garde chandeliers. There was hardly any color at all, except for a few pieces of modern art on the walls and art pieces made from glass. But the entire wall facing the elevator was glass. The windows opened the view toward a terrace and roof garden, and beyond that skyscrapers and Central Park. The ceiling opened up above the main part of the living area and a staircase led up to the second floor of the penthouse.

I walked farther into the apartment and tilted my head up. Glass banisters allowed a clear view of the upper floor: a bright gallery with several doors branching off of it.

An open kitchen took up the left side of the living area and a massive black dining table marked the border between dining and living area. I could feel Luca’s eyes on me as I took everything in. I approached the windows and peered out. I’d never lived in an apartment; even a roof garden didn’t change the fact that it was a high prison.

“Your things are in the bedroom upstairs. Marianna wasn’t sure if you wanted to put them away yourself, so she left them in your suitcases.”

“Who’s Marianna?”

Luca came up behind me. Our gazes met in the reflection in the window. “She’s my housekeeper. She’s here a couple of days per week.”

I wondered if she was also his mistress. Some men in our world actually dared to insult their wives by bringing their whores into their own home. “How old is she?”

Luca’s lips twitched. “Are you jealous?” He rested his hands on my hips and I tensed. He didn’t pull away, but I could see anger crossing his face. But I also noted that he didn’t answer my question.

I stepped out of his hold and headed for a glass door leading out onto the roof garden. I turned to Luca. “Can I go outside?”

His jaw was tight. He wasn’t stupid. He had noticed how quickly I’d shaken off his touch. “This is your home now too.”

It didn’t feel that way. I’m not sure it ever would. I opened the door and stepped outside. It was windy and distant honking carried up from the streets below. White lounge furniture took up the terrace but beyond it a small well-kept garden stretched out toward a glass barrier. There was even a square in-ground Jacuzzi big enough for six people. Two sunchairs were set up beside it. I strode toward the edge of the garden and let my gaze wander over Central Park. It was a beautiful view.

“You’re not thinking about jumping, are you?” Luca asked, gripping the banister beside me.

I tilted my face up to him, trying to gauge if this was his attempt at humor. He looked serious. “Why would I kill myself?”

“Some women in our world see it as their only way to gain freedom. This marriage is your prison.”

I appraised the distance between the roof and the ground. Death was certain. But I’d never considered killing myself. Before doing that, I’d run. “I wouldn’t do that to my family. Lily, Fabi and Gianna would be heartbroken.”

Luca nodded. I couldn’t read his expression and it was driving me crazy. “Let’s go back inside,” he said, putting a hand on my lower back and steering me into the apartment. He closed the door, then turned back to me. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes, but I’ll be back in a few hours. I want to take you to my favorite restaurant for dinner.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Like a date?”

The corners of Luca’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “You could call it that. We haven’t been on a real date yet.” He wrapped an arm around my middle and pulled me against him. I froze, and the lightness disappeared from his eyes.

“When will you stop being afraid of me?”

“You don’t want me to be afraid of you?” I’d always thought it would make his life easier if I was terrified of him. Would make it easier to keep me in check.

Luca’s dark brows drew together. “You are my wife. We’ll spend our lives together. I don’t want a cowering woman at my side.”

That really surprised me. Mother loved Father but she also feared him. “Are there people out there who don’t fear you?”

“A few,” he said before lowering his head and pressing his lips against mine. He kissed me without hurry until I relaxed under his touch and parted my lips for him. I raised my arm and hesitantly touched the back of his neck, my fingers brushing his hair. My other hand pressed against his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles. He pulled away.

“I have half a mind to cancel this fucking meeting.” He rubbed his thumb over my lips. “But there’s still more than enough time for this later.” He glanced at his watch. “I really need to go now. Romero will be here when I’m gone. Take your time and look around.” With that he headed for the door and left.

For a moment, I stared at the door, wondering if anyone would stop me if I walked out of this building. Instead I moved toward the staircase and walked up to the second floor. Only one of the white doors was ajar and I pushed it open. The master bedroom opened up before me. As with the living area, an entire wall was made up of windows overlooking New York. The king-sized bed was facing them. I wondered how it would be to watch the sunrise from bed. The wall behind the bed was upholstered with black fabric. At the end of the room a doorway led into a walk-in closet and to its right I could see a freestanding bathtub through the glass wall separating the bedroom from the bathroom.

I walked toward it. Even from the bathtub you could watch the city. Despite the glass wall, the washbasins and the shower weren’t visible from the bedroom, and the toilet was in its own small room.

“Aria?”

I gasped. My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly followed the voice and found Romero on the gallery, carrying my bags. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said when he saw my face. I nodded. “Where do you want me to put your bags?”

I’d forgotten Luca had dropped them on the sofa. “I don’t know. Maybe the walk-in closet?”

He strode past me and set the bags down on a bench in the closet. My three suitcases as well as two moving boxes were beside it. “Do you know if I need to dress up for tonight? Luca said he wants to take me to his favorite restaurant, but he didn’t tell me if it has a dress code.”