Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 485

Chapter 485: You Are Perfect

"You are perfect, Bambola. And I will always do what I have to do to make you happy." He assured her.

"I am happy." Her voice trembled despite the conviction in it. "What I need is you alive."

He brushed his thumb across her wedding ring. "I will be." Luca glanced toward the departure boards, then back at her. Time was running out. "Remember your instructions...If at any point you feel uncomfortable—"

"I’ll be fine." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Luca cupped the side of her face, prolonging it for one extra second before forcing himself to release her. "Yeah, you will be fine," he murmured. "Your flight is being called, Bambola. I promise, I will be with you soon."

Vee nodded, though neither of them looked convinced by how easy he made it sound. She picked up her bag and started walking away.

Luca watched his wife, his Donna. He refused to let her leave without confirming it once more. "Mrs Genovese!" he called out loud and she turned around immediately.

"What?" she called back.

Luca stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, looking far too pleased with himself. Airport lights washed over his dark suit, catching the softness of his face he never bothered hiding when she was the one looking. "Just testing if you’ve gotten used to it yet."

She laughed. The sound made him want to cancel Paris, drag her into the nearest private lounge, and tell every enemy to reschedule their bullshit. "A long time ago, my love." She turned around again, lifting her hand and flashing her rings at him like a woman showing off treasure.

Luca shook his head, but his smile stayed.

Damn woman.

He watched until the crowd swallowed her, then forced himself to turn. The husband disappeared first. The devil returned.

Luca headed toward the waiting area for his own flight.

*****

Bianca was on the phone as she took the elevator to the top floor of her penthouse in Paris. The elevator rose smoothly, all mirrored walls, gold trim, and soft lighting designed to flatter rich people. Her reflection stared back at her from three angles—red lips, sleek hair, calm face. Her fingers tightened around her phone.

"Fratello, I don’t understand what is going on," she said, keeping her voice low even though she was alone. "I just heard Marco is in Italy. I thought Tony confessed..."

Bianca listened, jaw tightening. "Of course...Yeah, none of this is working." Her brother spoke again. Bianca closed her eyes for a second. "Luca trusts blindly...Yes, I am still in Paris, Fratello. I am fine. I promise." She stepped closer to the elevator doors as it slowed. "You took care of the girlfriend, right?"

A pause. Bianca’s lips pressed together.

"Okay," she said. "I’ll talk to you later."

The elevator chimed. The doors opened, revealing her penthouse in cool darkness. Bianca stepped inside, heels clicking against marble floors. She switched on the lights, dropped her bag and phone.

"I’ve been waiting for you."

The familiar voice slid out of the darkness.

Bianca jumped. A sharp, undignified yelp escaped her and she spun around so fast she nearly skidded.

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