Signed To The Mafia King - Chapter 32: Chapter 32
You are reading Signed To The Mafia King, Chapter 32: Chapter 32. Read more chapters of Signed To The Mafia King.
LUCA
I didn’t bother looking at my father. I was too tired to argue. Too tired for the tense silence pressing down on the room.
Instead, I turned to Alina, still standing in the doorway.
“Come and eat,” I said.
She didn’t move.
She stared at my father like she was seeing a ghost, her body stiff like she was preparing for another fight.
I sighed, pushed my chair back, and stood. I walked over, took her hand, and pulled her toward the table. Her fingers were cold in mine, and for once, she let me lead her without a word.
That was strange.
I almost wanted to laugh. She had fought me over everything so far. Argued, pushed, tested me at every turn. And now, when I expected resistance, she was quiet?
Maybe she was as tired as I was.
I pulled out a chair for her. She sat, lowering her eyes to the table.
My father was still watching us, his expression tight with anger. I ignored him and turned to Sofia instead. “Eat,” I said, nodding at the food on her plate.
She nodded, then picked up her fork, pushing food around.
My father cleared his throat. With no one paying him any attention, all the bluster went out of his shoulders. He sat tiredly. “We’re leaving in three days.”
I scooped up a bite of rice, barely tasting it as I chewed. “No, you’re not,” I said easily. “I know you plan on staying in Chicago, Dad.”
Matteo grunted, shoving a piece of meat into his mouth. He chewed, his jaw tight, and then muttered, “I heard about Roberto.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “Whoever your source is, they’re pretty good.”
I took another bite, forcing the food down even though I wasn’t hungry. My body was exhausted, my muscles aching from the long day, but my mind wouldn’t settle.
Alina’s words kept circling in my head.
You can't hurt me. I'll never love you!
I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I didn’t have the time or energy to play mind games with her. I already had enough work keeping everything under control, enough weight on my shoulders without adding her to the list of things to worry about.
My father set his fork down. “You’re going to turn this into a full-scale war. The fight between her and her uncles will become a fight between them and the Marinos if you add your voice.”
I didn’t even look up as I cut into my steak. He was forgetting that my wife was a Marino. The fight already involved us. Whether it was a contract marriage or not. “The Costa territories are already being used by Marino men. We’ve pulled in millions. What else do we need to make this our fight? Do you think Roberto will let us sell our drugs and guns in his territory?”
Matteo scoffed. “Money isn’t everything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course it is,” I said smoothly. I lifted my eyes, meeting my father’s glare without blinking. “Why the hell else are you back?”
Silence. He had no answer.
“I’d prefer,” Alina said suddenly, her voice clear, “that you don’t discuss me and my father’s empire like I’m not sitting at this table.”
The words had the same effect as introducing a gun into a knife fight. The tension thickened.
Matteo choked, coughing as a piece of food caught in his throat. He grabbed his glass, drinking to clear it, then set it down with a hard thud. His eyes burned into Alina, sharp with disbelief.
“Did you just try to lecture me?”
Alina tilted her head, her face perfectly calm. “No,” she said, her voice smooth. “I asked politely enough, Matteo.”
I almost laughed. That sounded more like it.
Matteo’s fingers curled into his napkin. His mouth opened, then closed again, like he didn’t know what to say.
I bit back a chuckle, feeling relieved.
So she was like this with everyone.
Sofia giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand.
I leaned back in my chair, smirking down at my plate. I glanced at my father, whose face was still set in stunned silence, then back at Alina.
She met my eyes surely.
For the first time since we had gotten home, I felt much better. I continued eating, smiling, when my father still had nothing to say a minute later.
Alina was the first to finish eating.
She set her fork down, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and stood without a word. I watched as she turned and walked out of the dining room, her shoulders straight like a ruler.
Sofia looked between me and our father, hesitating for a moment before pushing her chair back. She left too.
Now it was just me and Matteo.
My father leaned back, sipping the wine in his glass. “Does she disobey you often?”
I stabbed my fork into my steak, cutting off a piece. “That’s between me and my wife.”
I ate without looking up. I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, especially not with him.
The room was quiet. I took my time finishing, chewing mechanically, swallowing past the tight feeling in my throat. The food felt like ash in my mouth, but I forced it down anyway.
Finally, I pushed my plate away and met my father’s eyes.
“Why are you back?” My voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. I wasn’t going to ask again.
Matteo finished his wine. He met my eyes, frowning. “Things are shifting.”
I waited.
He tapped a finger against the table. “The Alvarados have something planned.”
I barely blinked. “That’s none of my business.”
Matteo raised a brow. “Ignoring them won’t make them disappear.”
My jaw tightened. “Till they hit me, I’ll be ignoring them.”
He hummed in amusement, like he found the answer interesting. I didn’t bother saying anything else. I stood, rolling my shoulders as I walked away from the table.
My body was tired, but my mind wouldn’t slow down.
I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, already deciding how the night would go.
I was going to ignore Alina.
That was the only way to get through this.
It had been one thing to lose control earlier, to let myself get caught up in her fire, but I wasn’t going to make a habit of it.
Alina was a distraction I couldn’t afford, no matter how much my body wanted her.
My fingers brushed the bedroom door handle, but before I could turn it, my phone rang.
Marco.
I answered. “Yeah?”
“All shipments have been sent off,” he said. “Everything’s handled. I've ordered the next batch. It’s arriving in two days.”
I nodded to myself. At least something was going right.
“There’s something else.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “What?”
“Your father had a meeting with Alina’s mother.”
“What?"
Marco continued. “I don’t know what they talked about, but she left the meeting crying.”
I lowered the phone from my ear, staring at the floor.
My father was playing at something.
And I had a feeling it wasn’t totally good.
I didn’t bother looking at my father. I was too tired to argue. Too tired for the tense silence pressing down on the room.
Instead, I turned to Alina, still standing in the doorway.
“Come and eat,” I said.
She didn’t move.
She stared at my father like she was seeing a ghost, her body stiff like she was preparing for another fight.
I sighed, pushed my chair back, and stood. I walked over, took her hand, and pulled her toward the table. Her fingers were cold in mine, and for once, she let me lead her without a word.
That was strange.
I almost wanted to laugh. She had fought me over everything so far. Argued, pushed, tested me at every turn. And now, when I expected resistance, she was quiet?
Maybe she was as tired as I was.
I pulled out a chair for her. She sat, lowering her eyes to the table.
My father was still watching us, his expression tight with anger. I ignored him and turned to Sofia instead. “Eat,” I said, nodding at the food on her plate.
She nodded, then picked up her fork, pushing food around.
My father cleared his throat. With no one paying him any attention, all the bluster went out of his shoulders. He sat tiredly. “We’re leaving in three days.”
I scooped up a bite of rice, barely tasting it as I chewed. “No, you’re not,” I said easily. “I know you plan on staying in Chicago, Dad.”
Matteo grunted, shoving a piece of meat into his mouth. He chewed, his jaw tight, and then muttered, “I heard about Roberto.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “Whoever your source is, they’re pretty good.”
I took another bite, forcing the food down even though I wasn’t hungry. My body was exhausted, my muscles aching from the long day, but my mind wouldn’t settle.
Alina’s words kept circling in my head.
You can't hurt me. I'll never love you!
I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I didn’t have the time or energy to play mind games with her. I already had enough work keeping everything under control, enough weight on my shoulders without adding her to the list of things to worry about.
My father set his fork down. “You’re going to turn this into a full-scale war. The fight between her and her uncles will become a fight between them and the Marinos if you add your voice.”
I didn’t even look up as I cut into my steak. He was forgetting that my wife was a Marino. The fight already involved us. Whether it was a contract marriage or not. “The Costa territories are already being used by Marino men. We’ve pulled in millions. What else do we need to make this our fight? Do you think Roberto will let us sell our drugs and guns in his territory?”
Matteo scoffed. “Money isn’t everything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course it is,” I said smoothly. I lifted my eyes, meeting my father’s glare without blinking. “Why the hell else are you back?”
Silence. He had no answer.
“I’d prefer,” Alina said suddenly, her voice clear, “that you don’t discuss me and my father’s empire like I’m not sitting at this table.”
The words had the same effect as introducing a gun into a knife fight. The tension thickened.
Matteo choked, coughing as a piece of food caught in his throat. He grabbed his glass, drinking to clear it, then set it down with a hard thud. His eyes burned into Alina, sharp with disbelief.
“Did you just try to lecture me?”
Alina tilted her head, her face perfectly calm. “No,” she said, her voice smooth. “I asked politely enough, Matteo.”
I almost laughed. That sounded more like it.
Matteo’s fingers curled into his napkin. His mouth opened, then closed again, like he didn’t know what to say.
I bit back a chuckle, feeling relieved.
So she was like this with everyone.
Sofia giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand.
I leaned back in my chair, smirking down at my plate. I glanced at my father, whose face was still set in stunned silence, then back at Alina.
She met my eyes surely.
For the first time since we had gotten home, I felt much better. I continued eating, smiling, when my father still had nothing to say a minute later.
Alina was the first to finish eating.
She set her fork down, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and stood without a word. I watched as she turned and walked out of the dining room, her shoulders straight like a ruler.
Sofia looked between me and our father, hesitating for a moment before pushing her chair back. She left too.
Now it was just me and Matteo.
My father leaned back, sipping the wine in his glass. “Does she disobey you often?”
I stabbed my fork into my steak, cutting off a piece. “That’s between me and my wife.”
I ate without looking up. I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, especially not with him.
The room was quiet. I took my time finishing, chewing mechanically, swallowing past the tight feeling in my throat. The food felt like ash in my mouth, but I forced it down anyway.
Finally, I pushed my plate away and met my father’s eyes.
“Why are you back?” My voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. I wasn’t going to ask again.
Matteo finished his wine. He met my eyes, frowning. “Things are shifting.”
I waited.
He tapped a finger against the table. “The Alvarados have something planned.”
I barely blinked. “That’s none of my business.”
Matteo raised a brow. “Ignoring them won’t make them disappear.”
My jaw tightened. “Till they hit me, I’ll be ignoring them.”
He hummed in amusement, like he found the answer interesting. I didn’t bother saying anything else. I stood, rolling my shoulders as I walked away from the table.
My body was tired, but my mind wouldn’t slow down.
I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, already deciding how the night would go.
I was going to ignore Alina.
That was the only way to get through this.
It had been one thing to lose control earlier, to let myself get caught up in her fire, but I wasn’t going to make a habit of it.
Alina was a distraction I couldn’t afford, no matter how much my body wanted her.
My fingers brushed the bedroom door handle, but before I could turn it, my phone rang.
Marco.
I answered. “Yeah?”
“All shipments have been sent off,” he said. “Everything’s handled. I've ordered the next batch. It’s arriving in two days.”
I nodded to myself. At least something was going right.
“There’s something else.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “What?”
“Your father had a meeting with Alina’s mother.”
“What?"
Marco continued. “I don’t know what they talked about, but she left the meeting crying.”
I lowered the phone from my ear, staring at the floor.
My father was playing at something.
And I had a feeling it wasn’t totally good.
End of Signed To The Mafia King Chapter 32. Continue reading Chapter 33 or return to Signed To The Mafia King book page.