Chapter 2 - The Serpent at the Table
The tension in the narrow stone corridor outside the chapel was thick enough to suffocate.
Sophia stepped out from behind Luca’s broad shoulder, refusing to stay hidden like a helpless child. She placed a hand lightly on Luca’s forearm; she could feel his muscles coiled tight like steel cables, ready to snap.
"You must be Matteo," Sophia said, her voice crisp and cool. "I’ve been here less than two hours, and I already know two things about this estate."
Matteo’s smirk faltered slightly. "Oh? And what are those, little baker?"
"First, the gravel on the driveway is terrible for heels," Sophia said calmly, meeting his hostile gaze without flinching. "And second, your manners are somehow even worse. Interrupting a wedding ceremony is considered extraordinarily tacky, even for family."
Marco, standing by the door, let out a choked cough to cover a sudden burst of laughter.
Matteo’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Watch your tongue, girl. You are in Lake Como now. The Bennett name means nothing here."
"She is a Moretti now," Luca cut in, his voice dropping an octave, carrying an unmistakable threat that filled the room. He took one step forward, his immense frame completely blotting out the candlelight behind him. "And if you speak to my wife with disrespect again in this house, Matteo, I will throw you off the balcony myself. Am I clear?"
Matteo held Luca’s deadly gaze for three long seconds before giving a tight, artificial nod. "Of course, brother. I only came to deliver news. The Syndicate Council has called an emergency meeting at the Milan estate tomorrow evening. They want to verify that the marriage is genuine and not merely a legal phantom to hold onto your seat."
"I will be there," Luca said flatly. "Now get out."
Matteo bowed mockingly, turned on his heel, and swept out of the hall, his guards trailing close behind.
Later that night, the grand estate settled into a heavy, quiet stillness.
Sophia stood in the center of the master suite on the third floor. The room was immense, featuring a massive stone fireplace, dark velvet drapes, and a king-sized bed covered in rich linens. Her small suitcases had been placed neatly near the mahogany wardrobe.
The door connected to the adjoining study clicked open, and Luca stepped in. He had removed his jacket and tie; his dark shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, revealing the broad line of his collarbones and the top of a thick scar running along his left shoulder.
He stopped near the doorway, suddenly looking awkward in his own home.
"The master bedroom has its own private bathroom," Luca said, gesturing toward a carved wooden door. "I will be sleeping in the study across the hall. The door locks from the inside if you wish."
Sophia sat down on the edge of the large bed, looking at him thoughtfully. "You don't have to sleep in the study, Luca. This is your room."
Luca let out a heavy, tired breath, running a large hand through his thick dark hair. "Sophia... you married me to settle a debt. You don't know me. You don't know the things I have done to keep this family alive. I will not force myself into your space."
"Is that what happened with the others?" she asked softly. "Did Matteo tell them stories about you?"
Luca’s expression hardened, a flash of ancient pain crossing his features. He walked over to the fireplace, leaning one arm against the stone mantle, looking down into the dying embers.
"The first woman left after three days," Luca said quietly. "She saw me interrogate a rival captain in the basement. She called me a monster. The second left because my size terrified her; she said looking at me felt like living with a bear. By the time the fifth woman walked out, I stopped trying to convince them otherwise."
He turned his head to look at her, his amber eyes vulnerable in the firelight. "I am a big man, Sophia. In my world, size is useful because it makes people afraid. But I never wanted the woman in my house to look at me with fear."
Sophia stood up. She walked slowly across the room, stopping directly in front of him.
Without saying a word, she reached up and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, her warm fingers brushing against his chest. Luca went entirely still, holding his breath as if he were afraid any movement would shatter the moment.
"I am not afraid of you, Luca," she said softly, her eyes holding his. "I'm a baker. I spend twelve hours a day working with fire, heavy sacks of flour, and boiling sugar. I know the difference between something that is dangerous and something that is simply strong."
She rested her palm against his heart. It was beating fast, hammering wildly beneath his ribs.
"Your heart is beating fast," she murmured with a faint smile. "A monster wouldn't be nervous standing in front of a five-foot-four woman."
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Luca’s broad hand came up slowly, resting over hers, trapping her small palm against his chest. "I am not nervous about a woman, Sophia. I am terrified of losing the only person who has ever looked at me without horror."
Sophia smiled, stepping closer until her forehead rested against his chest. "Then stop trying to send me away."
