~ 5

Chapter 5

The conference room of Santoro Hotels' Paris headquarters was all glass and steel, thirty floors above the city. Aria sat at the head of the table in a black sheath dress that was perfectly professional — and absolutely not.

The hem hit just above her knee. The neckline was a shade too low. And when she leaned forward to review the quarterly reports, she knew exactly what angle Luca had from his position by the door.

She could feel his eyes on her like a physical touch.

"As you can see, Monsieur Beaumont," she said to the hotel manager across from her, "occupancy rates have dropped three percent over the last quarter. That's unacceptable."

Beaumont shifted uncomfortably. He was fifty, experienced, and clearly didn't appreciate being lectured by a twenty-two-year-old woman, mafia princess or not.

"The market has been challenging, Mademoiselle Santoro. Tourism is…"

"Tourism to Paris is up seven percent." She tapped the report with one manicured nail. "Which means we're losing guests to competitors. I want a full analysis of our pricing strategy, our marketing spend, and our guest experience metrics by end of week."

"That's quite aggressive…"

"This is my hotel now." She smiled, sharp and cold, her father's smile. "I suggest you get used to aggressive."

Beaumont's mouth thinned, but he nodded. "Of course."

"Excellent." She stood, and watched several pairs of eyes drop to her legs as she smoothed her dress. "Gentlemen, I'll expect those reports Friday. Don't disappoint me."

She walked out, heels clicking on marble, aware of Luca falling into step behind her. Silent. 

Perfect.

In the elevator, she caught his reflection in the polished doors. His jaw was tight, his hands clasped behind his back in a white-knuckle grip.

"Something wrong?" she asked innocently.

"No."

"You seem tense."

"I'm fine."

The elevator doors opened on the executive floor. Her temporary office, formerly her father's Paris pied-à-terre — was at the end of the hall. She walked slowly, adding an extra sway to her hips.

Behind her, Luca's breathing changed, just slightly.

Inside the office, she went to the bar cart and poured herself sparkling water. "That went well, don't you think?"

"You were antagonizing him."

"I was establishing authority." She turned, leaning back against the cart. "There's a difference."

"You were also…" He stopped, jaw working.

"Also what?"

"Nothing."

"No, please. Finish that thought." She took a sip of water. "I was also... what? Dressed inappropriately? Flirting? Using my sexuality to manipulate men?"

His eyes flashed. "I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"What I was thinking," he said, voice carefully controlled, "is that you're playing a dangerous game."

"I'm doing my job."

"Wearing that dress."

"This dress?" She looked down at herself. "This is Chanel. Very professional."

"It's…" He stopped again, clearly fighting for composure.

"It's what?" She moved closer. "Say it, Luca."

"It's distracting."

"To whom?"

The air between them crackled. His eyes were smoke-dark, locked on hers, and she could see the exact moment his control started to fracture.

Then his phone buzzed. He broke eye contact to check it, and the spell broke.

"Dinner tonight, eight o'clock." His voice was flat again, professional. "He has something to discuss."

“Again?” Aria rolled her eyes. Killjoy! 

…

Dinner at the estate was a formal affair. Aria dressed carefully… a deep burgundy dress, elegant and demure enough to satisfy the family's expectations. Her hair was swept up, diamond studs in her ears. Armor, disguised as evening wear.

Luca was waiting in the hall when she emerged, devastating in a dark suit. His eyes swept over her, something hot and possessive flickering in their depths before he locked it down.

"You look acceptable," he said.

"How flattering."

They walked to the dining room in silence. The table could seat twenty, but tonight it was just her, her father at the head, Uncle Enzo to his right, and three underbosses she vaguely recognized from four years ago.

And Luca, standing sentinel behind her father's chair.

The meal was excellent… osso buco, risotto, wine from the family's vineyards. The conversation was careful, feeling her out, assessing whether Vittorio's daughter could really handle the legitimate empire.

She held her own, discussing market trends and expansion strategies, proving she'd learned something at Harvard besides how to resent her father.

Then, over dessert, her father dropped the bomb.

"I've arranged some introductions for you, Aria."

She set down her fork. "Introductions?"

"Men from good families. Legitimate businessmen." He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "It's time you considered marriage."

The room went very quiet.

"Marriage." She kept her voice level. "You're arranging my marriage."

"I'm arranging dates. What comes of them is your choice." His tone suggested it wasn't really a choice at all. "You're twenty-two. Unmarried. If you're to lead the family businesses, you need a partner. Someone who understands our world."

"I don't need…"

"The first is tomorrow night. Alessio Marchesi, he runs a shipping company in Genoa. Good family, clean business. You'll like him."

Aria's hands clenched in her lap. She wanted to scream, to throw her wine in his face, to walk out.

Instead, she smiled. "Of course, Father. I'd be delighted."

She didn't look at Luca because she didn't need to. She could feel the tension radiating from him like heat.

"Excellent." Her father seemed pleased. "Enzo will provide security…"

"Luca will provide security," Aria interrupted. "He's my bodyguard. He goes where I go."

Her father's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "As you wish."

She finally let herself glance at Luca. His face was carved from stone, but his hands were fisted at his sides, and a muscle jumped in his jaw.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

The moment her suite door closed behind them, Luca rounded on her.

"What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" She kicked off her heels, sighing with relief.

"Agreeing to those dates."

"Why not? I'm single. He's right that I should meet people." She unzipped her dress, let it pool at her feet, standing in just her black lace lingerie. "Unless you have some objection?"