Signed To The Mafia King - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

ALINA
I took a shower, dressed, and left my room in less than ten minutes.
Pietro was standing outside my door. "He's in the living room."
I nodded, dragging my hair into a ponytail. "Does Luca know he's here?"
"No. I believe he left for his meeting before your uncle arrived. Would you like me to inform him of the guest in his house?"
I shook my head. I could deal with my uncle myself. He wasn't the kind of enemy I needed Luca's help with.
When I reached the dining room, I found Uncle Roberto seated at the table, eating the breakfast one of the housekeepers had prepared for him.
He took small, precise bites, like he was a gentleman, and not someone who had blood on his hands.
I inhaled deeply. The last time I had spoken to him, he had slapped me.
He wouldn't dare today. I knew that, but my heart still beat too fast.
And it wasn’t with the excitement I had felt earlier this morning when Luca’s head was between my breasts.
"Uncle Roberto," I greeted, bending to kiss both his cheeks.
He swallowed his food and crossed his fork and knife on the plate. "I see you're not dead yet."
I forced out a laugh like I found that funny. I didn’t. What the hell was he doing in my house? "Oh, that's so funny."
He wasn’t smiling.
One of Luca’s men stepped into the room and stood by the door.
I breathed a little easier. I could take care of myself, but a little backup never hurt.
"Why are you here, Roberto?" I leaned forward, letting the polite act drop.
He pulled a cigar case from his pocket and slid out a cigar.
Before he could light it, Luca’s man stepped forward. "Smoking isn’t allowed here."
Roberto glowered at him. "I’ll smoke here if I damn well please."
I smiled coolly. "Actually, you won’t. I don’t tolerate the smell of cigars on my things."
His expression hardened. With deliberate slowness, he slammed his palm onto the table between us. The sharp sound went through the room, but I refused to flinch.
He wasn't going to intimidate me. Not here.
Not in my husband’s house.
I met his glare and bared my teeth. "Put the cigar away, Uncle. You're not smoking in here."
For a second, I thought he might fight me on it, but he tossed the cigar onto the table instead.
"I want you to hand over the Costa Mafia, Alina."
I leaned back now that I had the upper hand. "And why the hell would I do that, Roberto?"
"Don't let us fight," he said, smoothing his palm over the table like he hadn’t just slammed it seconds ago. "We’re still family."
Family. Right.
"Get out of my house, Uncle. Now."
His eyes darkened. "You’re going to regret this. Don’t make me hurt you."
I slapped my own palm against the table, matching his earlier move. "Don't threaten me, Roberto. I’ll unleash the dogs on you."
"You think I'm afraid of that bastard?" he spat, standing so fast his chair scraped against the floor.
I was tense. His fists clenched, his jaw locked, and his breathing turned rough.
Was he going to slap me again?
My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to stay still. If he laid a hand on me, I’d rip it off.
Suddenly, out of nowhere—
"Back away from my wife, Roberto Costa," Luca’s voice made Uncle Roberto flinch. It was smooth and deadly. "And maybe you should be afraid of this bastard."
Roberto jerked away like he’d been shot.
Luca was leaning against the doorframe, jacket open, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on my uncle. But then his gaze flicked to me, searing hot and searching.
"Are you okay, Alina?"
My throat was too tight to speak, so I nodded.
I had handled this. Nothing to worry about.
Luca pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room, his movements slow but carrying a threat. My uncle fell back into his seat, his hate-filled eyes locked onto Luca.
Luca lowered himself into the chair beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine. The heat from his body seeped into my skin, steadying me, grounding me.
"Roberto, what were you saying to my wife?" His voice was calm, too calm. "I'd like to hear it too."
Roberto set his jaw like he was debating whether or not to speak.
Before he could, Luca nodded toward the man by the door.
"Thomas? Get rid of these. I don’t want them in my house."
Thomas took the cigar case and gold lighter off the table.
Roberto said nothing as he walked away with them.
I fought hard to keep my smirk hidden.
Luca fixed his attention back on my uncle. "Now, what were you about to say?"
Roberto inhaled, trying to sound rational. "Tell your wife to give me control of the Costa Mafia."
Luca’s eyes turned laser sharp. "And why the fuck would I do that?"
"Because she has no need for it," Roberto sneered. "She’s a woman. She’s your property now. Control her."
I went still.
My entire body stiffened, a slow-burning rage curling deep in my stomach.
I’d always known my uncle was a misogynistic bastard, but hearing the words out loud sent heat flooding through my veins, burning away the last of my patience.
Beside me, Luca’s fingers wrapped around mine under the table, squeezing painfully hard. A silent warning.
I breathed in, breathed out.
Pulled myself back from the edge.
"If you ever speak to my wife that way again," Luca said, voice quiet but cold with deadly violence, "you won’t survive the next second."
His body was deathly still, not a muscle twitching.
I knew this was him holding himself back. The tension in the air was thick, electric, heavy with too many emotions.
I leaned in, meeting my uncle's glare head-on.
I hissed, "I will never give you control of my father’s empire. So long as I breathe, you will never get your filthy, bloodstained hands on his money. You can believe that."
I shoved back my chair and stood. My entire body was trembling, not from fear, but from the sheer force of my fury.
Thomas stepped aside and opened the door for me.
As I passed Pietro, he gave a small nod. "You did well."
I exhaled, chest rising and falling too fast. "I don’t want him anywhere near me again. Or I really might just shoot him in the leg."
I stepped into my room and shut the door behind me.
A few minutes later, Luca walked in.
His face was tight and cold, but his eyes were sharp, watching me closely.
"Your uncle killed your father, didn’t he?"
My head snapped up, meeting his eyes.
How the hell did he know that?