Page 4 of My Wedding Mafia Style

“Your ex?” I murmur near her ear.

A small pause.

“…Yes.”

“And the woman with him?”

“I don’t know her,” she says. “But I don’t like her.”

There’s a hint of something sharper in her tone now that seems possessive. I huff out a quiet breath that might almost be a laugh.

“Good,” I say.

She stills slightly at that.

“Good?” she echoes.

I let my thumb trace once along her hip—not enough to draw attention, but enough to remind her, and myself, that she’s still very much in my space.

“Jealousy reads better if it’s mutual,” I say.

She turns her head just enough to look at me again, something shifting in her expression. She’s moved from a determined to make a statement stance to awareness of me — of this — of what it could become.

“Stay close,” I add quietly.

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” she replies.

“I’m Luca.”

She blinks.

“Lucy.”

Across the room, my family has gone quiet. This doesn’t surprise me. Give my grandmother one unexplained woman on my lap and she’ll build a five-year plan, a wedding menu, and a succession strategy.

Lucy’s ex still glances our way periodically, trying to understand what he’s seeing. Making sure he won’t yet, I lean in again, my mouth brushing just close enough to hers to keep the illusion intact.

“Relax, Lucy,” I murmur.

“Your boyfriend’s got this.”

And it’s true. Right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.

Chapter 3

Lucy

Iam very aware of two things. First—every eye in this room feels like it’s on us. Second … I’m still sitting on Luca’s lap like I belong here. And the terrifying part? I’m starting to believe we’re together.

His hand hasn’t moved from my waist. Not even a fraction. It’s steady there, warm and firm, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for me to be exactly where I am. Like I didn’t just walk up to a stranger and kiss him in front of my ex out of sheer, reckless desperation.

Except… I did.

Somehow, instead of unraveling, the situation has only become more real. More dangerous. More —

“Dance with me.”

The words are low, close to my ear, sending a ripple down my spine that has absolutely nothing to do withDerek. I pull back just enough to look at him. “Is that part of the five minutes?”