Chapter 43 WHAT DO I GET IN RETURN?
••Luciana••
“Luci, can we talk?” Matteo asked.
Roman glanced at the two of us and immediately understood. He stepped back without hesitation. “I’ll be outside,” he said calmly. “I need to make a call anyway.”
“Okay,” I replied.
The door closed behind him.
Matteo released a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit I knew too well. “What was that downstairs?”
“What was what?” I asked, straightening a book on the shelf that didn’t need fixing. If I looked at him for too long, I might explode.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“The pretending. The silence. You walked out like you didn’t know us.”
I finally turned to him. “Maybe that’s because none of you recognized me first.”
His mouth parted, then closed again.
“You vanished,” he said quietly.
“I got married,” I corrected. “And you all knew exactly where I was.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “You didn’t need us anymore.”
A short laugh escaped me. “Funny how I spent months thinking you didn’t need me.”
He stepped closer. “We didn’t forget you, Luci.”
“You did,” I said, my voice steady but tight. “Not in your heads. In what mattered. There was no calls, no messages, no ‘are you okay over there?’ Nothing.”
He swallowed. “I thought giving you space was the right thing.”
“I didn’t ask for space,” I said. “I asked for family.”
Silence filled the room.
“I messed up,” Matteo said at last. “We all did. Antonio and I—”
The door opened before he could finish.
Antonio walked in without knocking, as usual. “Still dramatic,” he said lightly.
I scoffed. “Oh please. Even you weren’t around the day I came home to surprise you.”
Matteo frowned. “You came to the house?”
I shot Antonio a look. “I called him. He said you both were away. I assumed he’d tell you.”
Antonio shrugged. “Didn’t think it mattered.”
Matteo turned on him. “Now this is you crossing the line.”
“Oh spare me,” Antonio snapped. “After you bit me behind my back, you don’t get to sniff around my sister like nothing happened.”
“Stop it,” I shouted. “Both of you.”
They froze.
“You’re my brothers,” I continued. “The only family I have. I’m not choosing sides. I belong to both of you.”
They glared at each other, stubborn as ever.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked. “Say it. Now.”
Neither spoke.
“If you don’t start talking,” I added calmly, “I’ll walk out of this house again and this time none of you should look for me.”
That did it.
Antonio sighed. “It’s stupid.”
“Then say it,” I insisted.
“It’s a girl,” Matteo said.
Antonio shot him a look. “You weren’t supposed to—”
“A girl?” I repeated. “Really?”
Antonio ran a hand through his hair. “I met her first. We talked. I liked her.”
“And?” I asked.
“And when we went drinking,” Matteo added, “Antonio went to the restroom. When he came back, he saw me dancing with her.”
“You knew,” Antonio snapped. “You knew I liked her.”
“I didn’t know she was off-limits,” Matteo shot back. “She wasn’t wearing your name on her forehead.”
They went back and forth until I raised my hand.
“Enough,” I said. “You’re fighting over someone who doesn’t even know your family name.”
They went quiet.
“You’re brothers,” I continued. “No girl should come between that. If she’s worth it, she won’t tear you apart.”
Antonio looked away. Matteo exhaled slowly.
“Now hug,” I ordered.
They both groaned.
“I’m serious.”
Reluctantly, they stepped closer and pulled each other into a stiff embrace.
“See?” I said. “Wasn’t that painful.”
Antonio smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”
Matteo glanced at me. “You’ve changed.”
I smiled faintly. “So have you.”
His gaze softened. “Roman Orlov of looks at you differently.”
Antonio smirked. “Let it not be that the silent prince is falling.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mind your business.”
“Is he treating you well?” Matteo asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said after a pause. “He is.”
That seemed to satisfy them.
When we stepped out of the room together, laughing softly, something fragile but real had mended.
Even if my father had changed, my brothers hadn’t completely disappeared.
For now, that was enough.
••Roman••
Family dinners weren’t supposed to feel like battlefields.
What Vittorio Moretti did tonight still didn’t sit right with me. In my family, blood came before pride. When my aunt was once disrespected by her husband, my father sent men to remind him where loyalty stood. Vittorio, on the other hand, placed his new wife above his daughter without blinking.
If Luciana hadn’t intervened, I might have put a knife to his throat.
I left the room even though I had no call to make. She needed space with her brothers.
She took longer than I expected.
When she finally appeared, she was laughing, her brothers flanking her like old times.
That’s family.
Matteo waved over a maid and handed Luciana a neatly packed container. “I told them to prepare this when I heard you were coming.”
Her face lit up instantly.
I watched her smile and felt something unfamiliar settle in my chest.
On the flight home, I couldn’t resist. “That was the first time I heard you call me husband.”
She huffed. “You called me your wife first. I was being polite.”
"You really do hate your Father's wife, huh?" I said.
She glanced away. “Thank you for standing up for me.”
“So,” I asked, “what do I get in return?”
Her eyes widened. “In return?”
“Maybe you should take me,” she said sarcastically.
I smirked. “Oh I will. All of you. When we get to our room in Russia.”
I winked.
Her face changed instantly.
“That’s not what I meant,” she muttered.
I laughed softly, but I saw it.
The shift.
Even though she might not realize it yet, but she was doing something to me. Something I cannot explain.