Taming My Mafia Stepbrother

Luca’s pov

All plans to have lunch with Cara and maybe a good fuck time blew to the wind the moment my father texted a cryptic singular sentence.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Come to the mansion.

Well, that was fast. It was fascinating how quickly words traveled. I hadn’t even gotten home from The Orion but the news had somehow reached the old don.

Something dark filled me. It looked like the Irish boss was more hurt than I thought.

“Take me to the mansion.” I instructed the driver, spending the rest of the drive preparing myself for the nagging I was sure to get.

I really wasn’t in the mood.

The great double doors of my father’s mansion opened to the foreboding expression of Antonio. I recognized the look, it was one he always had whenever I got into trouble and was about to get whooped by my father. It was so very familiar that it made me viscerally remember the emotions that went through me in those situations.

Fear, dread and alarm.

I chuckled within my chest as I reminisced the childhood dilemmas.

“The Signor is in his study.” Antonio supplied without prompt and I could tell things were more serious than I expected. The major hint being my father was somewhere other than his beloved study.

I found him sitting cross-legged on an armchair, smoking a fat roll of cigar. His eyes coasted to me and they hardened. His expression was cold, still but I saw the underlying currents like I’ve always done.

The old don had always possessed the impressive ability to hide his emotions expertly. He could appear like he’s thinking about tedious reports when in reality, an angry fire is roaring inside him. Looking like a frozen pond but feeling like the North Sea was a saying my late mother attributed to him.

He only let people see what he wanted them to see, when he wanted them to.

“I came as soon as I saw your text.” I said, sitting on the chair across from him. “Why do you want to see me?”

He had that done fucking bullshit me stare of his. “Aidan McKell called me.” He said in a leveled voice.

My gaze remained impassive but internally I was ticked. Fuck that Irish motherf uc ker.

“Why the f uc k would you do something like that?”

“I trust he supplied you with the reason.” I said as I undid the button of my suit jacket. “There was no more need for the marriage.”

“Nonsense (in Italian). Marrying the girl to them is the best thing for her in a time like this.”

“The blows I dealt the Bratva will have them recovering for months to come. And it’s obvious I wouldn’t wait for them to do that. I’ve got the situation under control, I’m going to end this war with the Bratva in victory.”

My father snuffed out his cigar with a little more vigor than needed. “I trust your capabilities son but sometimes that is not enough. You need external help to strengthen your plans.”

The tick I felt now pulsed in my forehead as annoyance unfurled inside of me. “If you trust me like you claim, father, you shouldn’t doubt my capabilities.”

“Why exactly are you opposed to this union?” He asked in a tight voice.

Because Cara is mine and no one else.

“I don’t think Cadain is right for her.” Partly the truth. Cadain wasn’t right because he wasn’t me.

“We’re not playing matchmaking. This is a business about her security and our joint power.”

An irritated breath escaped my lungs. “Both of which I’ve told you I didn’t need the Irish to ensure.”

“You’d always need help, son. No matter how powerful you are.”

I rubbed at my temple. I was getting worked up. My words came out through clenched teeth. “I will ask for help when I need it.”

My father stared at me long and hard and I was unable to read what he was thinking. He had always been hard to read. His gaze left me and he got busy with lighting his cigar once again.

“Unfortunately, the Cosa Nostra don’t have the luxury to afford such patience. We are at war.” He said the last sentence like it wasn’t already glaringly obvious.

Not waiting for me to respond, he continued. “Since you botched up the first one, you should ensure plan B goes right.”

My hackles rose and my eyes squinted with wariness. Just what in the world was he going on about?

“Don Cortini promised to connect you to the Ndrangheta on the condition that you marry his daughter.”

Like fucking hell I would.

I sprang to my feet, throwing a furious hand through my hair, a sardonic chuckle vibrating in my chest. “Is that your solution to everything? Marriage?”

“When you’re an old man like me, you’d understand why forming alliances is better than going to war alone.”

I pinned him with a hard glare. “I am fucking don of the Cosa Nostra. I do not need to get shackled with anyone just so I can fight my enemies.”

My father heaved a sigh. “Luca-”

“You are my father and I will continue to pay you the honor you deserve, but heed my warning when I ask you to never bring this up again.” I growled my nose flaring in thinly concealed anger.

The anger was so forceful I had to choke it down. It marred my vision with red. I wanted to break something, punch something and it took me all of my self control not to.

How dare he suggest I marry Valentina just to curry favors from her father? After defeating Alexei what would happen next? Why will I shackle myself to the woman for life in exchange for a victory I was already close to securing? There was a fucking reason why I’d never proposed to Valentina in spite of her relentless chasing.

I refuse to reduce Cara to the position of my mistress. I refuse to place her second over some stupid connection to the fucking Ndrangheta.

My father was still intent on pushing the matter. “I ask that you think it over.”

“There’s nothing to think about.” I said, already walking out of the living room and not stopping to look at him when I added. “I’d pretend this conversation never happened.”

My strides back were furious, my blood pumping hot in my veins. I was on the verge of going up in flames and I genuinely felt pity for the next person to get on my nerves.

Laughter traveled out of the foyer as I neared it, my steps halting altogether when I sighted the people exiting the place.

Valentina and Amanda walked arm in arm, chittering about something I didn’t give a fuck about. They saw me and froze immediately.

My eyes burned into their linked arms and I wondered when they’d had the time to become that close.

I trained my gaze on Valentina. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Amanda blanched, looking at Valentina then back at me. “I’d invited her over-”

“Wasn’t speaking to you.” Was my rude cutoff.

Valentina was staring at me with a mixture of fear and that sick admiration I hated. “Ever the polite character Luca. It’s nice to see you too.”

“Don’t act smart with me. Answer the fucking question.”

“I came because your stepmother invited me for lunch.” She responded, her hand tightening around Amanda’s.

I glared at both of them like I could pulverize them. Valentina was now getting invited to lunch? Just after I had been hit with the terrible suggestion of marriage to her? A twisted smirk worked up my lips, I was beginning to find the whole situation hilarious.

“Would you be joining us?” She had the nerve to ask.

My only reply was a blank expression before I crossed past them and turned into the foyer. Then something came to mind and I whirled around to face them again.

“Amanda,” I started, “about Cara’s allowance, you wouldn’t know anything about why it hasn’t been getting to her, would you?”

I watched as the woman’s face went completely pale, her bottom lip quivering. “I-i-it hasn’t? I had no idea.”

She was so guilty it stinked. The urge to throttle her overtook me. The fucking vile witch.

“I promise to look into it.” She rushed to say at the furious glare I knew I had.

“You better do and make sure every outstanding cent is paid to her.” My voice took on a deathly warning. “Or I will intervene.”

Her nod was immediate and I was so sick of the sight of her I turned around and made my way out of the door, making a mental note to contact Grigori. It was high time I looked into my father’s wife.