Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 119

Chapter 119: Save Me A Seat

She smiled when she saw him.

"I’ll meet you downstairs," he said. "Save me a seat."

She stepped closer, adjusting the towel at his hip as if it needed straightening, she just needed an excuse to touch him again.

"You won’t be long?" she asked softly.

"No."

She nodded once and turned gracefully toward the door. "I’ll be waiting." Bianca smiled exuberantly and stepped out of the room. Her heels clicked against the marble hallway. They were slender, sharpened things, black and lethal in design. Functional as a murder weapon, literally. One well aimed stomp and a man would remember her forever.

Luca stood in the quiet aftermath of steam and roses. He moved toward the closet, fingers brushing against suits. He pulled out a fitted short. A plain t shirt. Soft cotton.

Just as he moved toward the door, he noticed the travel duffel placed neatly by the bench. He crouched, unzipped the smaller pocket, and retrieved the small box tucked inside.

He had remembered to place it there that morning in New York.

Like he could forget.

He opened the box.

Inside lay a delicate piece of white lace.

Veronica’s underwear.

He wrapped it around his palm slowly. Then he brought it to his nose and inhaled. He closed his eyes for a brief second. A selfish second. Then he folded the lace carefully and slipped it into the pocket of his shorts, pressing his hand over it. He straightened.

Dinner awaited.

When he descended the staircase, the sound of male voices drifted upward. The dining hall was lit in gold. A long table of dark wood stretched. Crystal glasses. Heavy silverware. Plates arranged.

His father was already seated at the head of the table.

Beside him, a glass of red wine rested untouched.

Julian sat a few seats down. Bianca occupied the opposite end from him, poised, radiant, composed.

He took his seat beside Bianca.

Bianca’s fingers brushed his under the table.

Don Genovese bowed his head, and the entire table followed. "In the name of the Father," he began. He thanked God for provision, for the abundance laid before them, for Luca’s safe return from New York. He thanked Him for unity. For strength. For the preservation of legacy.

Luca kept his head lowered, eyes closed. Bianca folded her hands perfectly.

"Amen," Don Genovese concluded.

"Amen," they echoed.

Silverware chimed against porcelain. Plates were filled. Wine poured. The food was rich. Roasted meats, Crisped rosemary potatoes, glazed vegetables.

Their father spoke as they ate. News from extended families flowed naturally. A cousin had just welcomed twin boys. A second cousin was engaged to a banker’s daughter. Achievements were listed. Promotions. University honors.

Then he pivoted.

"And Bianca’s family," he continued, glancing warmly at her. "Your cousin Sofia, yes? A healthy son. Already ruling the house. Strong boys are blessings," Don Genovese nodded.

The direction of the conversation was subtle but unmistakable. Heir. Continuity. Bloodline. The future sitting invisibly at the table with them.

Julian wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back slightly. "I’m sure Luca’s whore would carry a child before Bianca here even begins to dream of it."

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