Signed To The Mafia King - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

LUCA
Alina’s look of shocked confusion was almost funny.
Her face was burning, and she looked stunning, standing there with her hair around her shoulders, her eyes hot enough to burn.
She rolled her neck. “I suspect he did. Why? What do you know?”
I shrugged, pulling my jacket off my shoulder. “Nothing.”
Alina came over to me. She lifted her large eyes to mine. Her pupils were wide and dilated like they had been that morning. “I'm sorry, I told Pietro not to call you.”
“It wasn't Pietro who called me.” I dropped the jacket on the floor, and she picked it up at once, folding it carefully and dropping it on the bed.
I sat on the bed, and she sat beside me. I lifted her, dumping her on my lap. She was still shaking. I kissed her ear. “Hey, relax. Your uncle can't do a thing to you.”
She nodded, her shoulders relaxing slowly. She exhaled. “Trust me, I know that.”
I turned her so her legs went around my waist. She snuggled into me. “I was asking about your father. Do you suspect that Roberto is responsible?”
If she suspected her uncle, then that changed things. He could try to come after her.
Her uncle had probably expected that with her father dead, it would be easy to just swoop in and take control of his empire.
Her eyes closed wearily. There was a line of sweat on her forehead.
As her adrenaline slowly disappeared, she sank deeper into my arms. “I don't have any proof. But I suspect he did. He was too eager to take over when my father died.”
I tipped my head back, enjoying the smell and weight of her in my arms. “Alina, if your uncle is responsible for your father's death, you understand what that means, don't you?”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and snuggled into me. My heart skipped a beat. “Yes. He'll attack me next.”
“No, he'll go after your brother.”
She leaned away from me. I missed her warmth and wanted to press her into my chest, but she was looking worried.
“Why would he attack Adriano? He's barely fourteen.”
I didn’t think Roberto was stupid enough to do that. He would have to declare a mutiny because most of the Costa men would probably refuse to obey him.
I traced a finger down her body, smiling when she reacted like she had been shocked. “That's exactly why. He would have control of the Mafia with no one to challenge him.”
Alina’s body tensed against mine. I felt the shift in her breathing, the sudden sharp intake of air.
“My uncle wouldn’t…” She stopped herself.
She didn’t believe that. Not really.
Roberto was ruthless. He had already tried to control her. If he thought Adriano stood in his way, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill his brother’s son.
I tightened my arms around her. “I’m doubling your guards.”
Alina stiffened. “Luca, that’s not necessary…”
“It’s already decided,” I cut her off. “You might be able to handle yourself, but I won’t risk it. You don’t fight alone anymore. Not while you’re mine.”
She huffed against my shoulder. “I was never fighting alone. And I'm not yours.”
I lifted her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You were not, but not anymore. And yes, you're my wife. You're mine.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but then she sighed, pressing her forehead against my chest.
I ran a hand through her hair, keeping her close. “You asked me earlier if I knew something.”
She nodded against my skin.
“It was the way you accused him of having blood on his hands. It was only your father who could make you that emotional.”
She nodded. “I can't believe he gets to walk around free. The bastard.”
“It happens all the time.”
She swallowed hard, searching my face. “Was it him?”
I frowned. “What?”
“The man who shot you. Was it Roberto?”
My jaw tightened. “No.” I shifted, adjusting her on my lap, keeping her close. “But I had a meeting this morning to send a message to the man who did.”
She didn’t ask for details, and I didn’t offer any. Instead, she exhaled softly, her fingers drawing circles on the collar of my shirt, moving absently like she was lost in thought.
“I want to have a meeting with my father’s men,” she murmured. “I need to see where their loyalties lie.”
I stroked my fingers along her spine, taking my time before answering.
“No.”
Her breath caught. I could tell she was angry from the way she became stiff like a board in my arms.
She pushed against me again with real force.
I let her go, watching as she slid off my lap and onto her feet.
Alina paced, her hands on her hips, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath.
“You can’t control this,” she snapped. “This is my father’s empire.”
I tilted my head. “It is. And you’re my wife. You’ll wait.”
Her nostrils flared. She fisted her hands at her sides. “Wait for what?”
“For us to finish our last ceremony. For this marriage to be complete.”
Alina rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “This is just an excuse to stall me.”
“No,” I said simply. “This is me protecting you.”
Alina clenched her jaw.
I could see the war inside her.
She wanted to fight me. Wanted to push back.
But she was smart.
She knew I was right.
The Costa Mafia would wait.
The wedding ceremony had to come first.
I caught her wrist gently. “Wait. We finish our last ceremony first. We finalize our wedding. Then, you can have your meeting.”
Her lips parted slightly as she looked up at me. “Finalize our wedding?”
I smirked, leaning in. “We never really had our wedding night, did we?”
She gasped softly, her head tipping back, exposing the smooth curve of her throat. My eyes followed the move, heat burning deep in my chest.
Her voice was a whisper. “No, we didn’t.”
I pressed a slow kiss to her throat, then kissed my way up to her jaw. My lips stayed over hers, teasing, waiting. “How about a wedding afternoon?”
She shivered, goosebumps spreading up her arms.
She barely had time to answer before I claimed her mouth, stealing whatever protest or agreement she might have had.