Chapter 43: I

RAVEN

The moment Luca and I step into the open space of the gala, something shifts in the air. I spot a woman on the far side of the room—she notices him instantly—and her face shifts with this sense of awareness at his arrival.

Luca doesn’t notice it. He never does, but I always do.

I can only assume he’s grown so accustomed to the power and the way he commands the room without saying a word that he doesn’t notice the way people’s necks whip up at his mere presence. Not after all these months as the king.

However, it’s not the way he’s dressed. It’s not the way his black suit jacket stretches over his broad shoulders. Nor is it the way his tattoos decorate nearly every visible inch of skin. It’s the energy that he carries as the Don.

People fear him, especially considering they all believe he’s the one who killed my father—the man everyone thought was invincible.

To the people of this world, he’s a brutal, heartless king. But for me, he’s soft, tender, vulnerable, selfless, loving, and the ultimate gentleman.

I love it. They don’t know the real him. Only I do.

It makes me feel like I have the most valuable thing that exists in this world.

Luca leads us to near the centre of the room and he must recognize someone because he presses a kiss to my mouth, promises he’ll be right back and leaves. I decide to grab some champagne while I wait for his return.

“Rae Brooks,” the deeply accented voice has me spinning to face whoever has called for me.

Well over six foot tall. Muscles so large they’re barely contained under his navy blue suit. A spider tattoo that crawls up his neck—the web protruding to his left ear. Eyes so vividly blue they look like a cresting wave that a surfer might ride expertly.

“Sasha fuckin’ Novikov.”

I haven’t seen the man in years. Haven’t seen him since we used to occasionally hook up. It wasn’t anything special—nothing to brag about, that’s for sure. Sasha’s father is don of his own mafia, so Sasha and I used to run in similar circles. When we’d see each other, we’d have some fun, and blow off some steam.

“You look good,” he smiles, touching my arm in a friendly way. “How are you?”

I close the distance between us, wrapping my arm around him in a hug. His hands sit on my waist during the embrace and when we pull apart, I return his earlier smile.

He’s always been nice to me, but I’m not naive. I fully understand what he and his family are capable of. Nobody who has as much money as the Novikovs have is without sin. The Russian mafia is a whole other ballgame.

“I’m good,” I admit.

“I heard about your uncle. Should I say I’m sorry?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He knows. Everyone fucking knew what Cain was like.

They just don’t know that he was my father and that I was the one to wrap his own belt around his neck until he turned blue.

I feign innocence.

“I mean, you’re hooked up with the guy who killed him, aren’t you?”

It was me.

“I am.”

He chuckles, “Cold, Rae, cold.”

I shrug, “You know me, always gotta’ keep things dangerous.”

“Oh, yes, I remember.”

Luca approaches and I sense Sasha’s demeanor shift. Luca wraps his arm around my waist, resting his hand on the top curve of my ass. Using his other hand, he pulls my face in the direction of his and descends his mouth upon mine.

The message is clear—I’m spoken for.

“Don Moreno.” Sasha’s curiosity is piqued at seeing me with him. I assume it’s because hearing about my relationship with Luca is different from actually seeing it with his own two eyes.

I can see the wheels grinding in his head. Probably pondering if Luca killed Cain for me. If he’s somehow coaxed me into this relationship with him because I’m scared. Wondering when my relationship with Luca hit the more intimate stage—before or after my uncle’s murder.

People already feared Luca because he killed Cain. It only adds to public intrigue that I started shacking up with him in the subsequent months of my uncle’s sudden death.

We waited a while after he died, obviously. But I’m not sure there’s any acceptable time that wouldn’t raise at least one eyebrow.

Being with him has given me a sense of attention similar to his. Each time I enter a room with him, I can feel eyes on me too. Curious, jealous, concerned, scared—I get it all too, only to a substantially smaller degree.

“We haven’t met yet,” Luca offers his hand to shake, “Luca Moreno.”

“Sasha Novikov.”

“Ah, the Novikovs,” Luca smiles, “You look just like your father.”

I quirk an eyebrow. I wasn’t aware of the fact that Luca knew Sasha’s family. It doesn’t surprise me, though. As Don, he likely has his hand in a million cookie jars. He probably meets new people every single day.

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” Sasha jokes.

Luca laughs, but some part of me feels like it’s forced. “Simply an observation. It’s nice to put a face to the stories I’ve been told.”

“My father speaks of me?”

“Highly,” Luca answers.

“He always has, Sasha,” I interject.

“With you it’s different.” He assures me, even though I’m not entirely sure I understand. “He’s always liked you. But with Don Moreno—with a man of business—I would’ve thought it’s another story.” He glances over his shoulder where his father is on the far side of the room in deep discussion with two other men I faintly recall.

When he makes eye contact with Sasha, there’s a moment there. Don Novikov’s eyes flicker over to Luca and I and snap back towards his son. I’ve been in this world long enough to see the nonverbal signal to come over. It’s so subtle that I don’t expect Luca to notice it, but then Luca’s head shifts an inch in Don Novikov’s direction—not enough to actually look at him, but enough to signal that he’s aware.

It impresses me. I tend to forget how astute he can be. He’s extremely good at studying people and noticing things that are dead giveaways for their true intentions.

“Speak of the devil—” Sasha turns his attention back to us. “It was nice meeting you, Don Moreno. Rae, good to see you. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He quickly shakes both of our hands. “Excuse me.”

As he walks off, I recall how harsh his father can be. I don’t blame him for his abruptness. His dad isn’t someone who likes to wait.

I feel Luca’s mouth near my ear as he lowly says, “I can see that he’s into you, Raven.”

“We used to fuck,” I admit, turning towards him to smooth my hand up his chest and straighten out his lapel. “Years ago.”

This wild glint flickers in his eyes and I already know where this conversation is going.

“I didn’t come here to watch you flirt with other people. Every time I fuck you, you’re crying out my name. Reciting how you’re mine.” He grips my chin between two fingers, lifting it gently so I’m staring in his eyes. His tattooed thumb brushes over my lower lip as he says lowly, “Maybe you need a reminder, angel.”

A smirk tugs at my lips. He’s teasing me. He doesn’t actually give a shit. He’s talking dirty to try and get me riled up in public.

And it’s fucking working.

“Do you not trust me?” I muse, sliding my palm further north to rub along the stubble on his jawline. “I love you, Luca. Not anyone else. Never anyone else. Only you.”

As he peers down at me, his lashes are like the sweep of a dark angel’s wings.

“Good. ‘Cause I can’t stop thinking about pushing this slit aside—” he ghosts the tips of his fingers along the split fabric, leaning his head so his mouth is at my ear as he continues, with a low and husky voice, “—and burying my face into your pussy until my beard smells like you.”

“Luca,” I lick my lips, my thighs pressing together as my teeth sink into my lower lip.

“Don’t give me that look, I won’t be able to resist you.”

“Sounds like you already can’t.”

“Not with you,” he admits with a sly smile. “Never with you. You’re irresistible.”