HIS FORBIDDEN BRIDE

CHAPTER 9

The jacket smelled like him.

Luca's jacket over both of us, his arm tight around my waist, my head on his chest. The office was quiet except for the AC and our breathing.

I was still in his lap on the small couch. My hair was a mess. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, tie long gone. My legs were tangled with his.

"We should not have done that in your office," I whispered.

He smiled against my hair. "We did exactly what husbands and wives do in their office."

"Your mother is downstairs."

"Let her be downstairs," he said, his hand tracing slow circles on my back over his shirt I was wearing. "You are up here. With me. That's where you belong."

I looked up at him. His eyes were soft now, but still dark, still possessive. That look that said _mine_ without words.

"Luca, what if someone heard—"

"No one heard," he said. "I locked the door."

Outside the door, Sophia's shadow didn't move.

She was holding her phone close to the crack, recording. Her smile was sharp. She had gotten 12 seconds. Just breathing, a soft moan that could be anything, Luca whispering "I've got you, wife."

Enough. Enough to twist.

She walked away silently in her heels, straight to the main house.

---

I finally stood up. Fixed his shirt on me. He watched me like he couldn't stop.

"Stop staring," I said.

"I am staring at my wife," he said. "It's my right."

He stood too, pulled me close again for one more kiss. Slow. Deep. Like he was trying to make up for all the days he held back.

"Lila."

"Hmm?"

"Tonight, you sleep in my room. Not guest room. My room. My bed."

"Luca—"

"No more contract. No more separate rooms. You said you are mine. I need you in my bed."

My heart was beating so fast. "Okay."

"Okay?" He lifted my chin. "Say it properly."

"Okay, I will sleep in your room. In your bed."

"Good girl."

He kissed my forehead where my scar was. That small kiss always undid me.

Then his phone rang. Security.

His face changed instantly. Cold. Mafia Luca back.

"What? When?"

He listened, eyes on me.

"Lock the main house. No one leaves. I'm coming."

He hung up.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Sophia just showed my mother a recording. From outside my office door."

My blood went cold. "What recording?"

He didn't answer. He just grabbed my hand.

"Come with me. Don't say anything unless I tell you to."

---

The living room was a war zone.

His mother was standing, face pale, holding Sophia's phone. Sophia was crying — fake crying — next to her.

"I told you, Auntie! I told you what they were doing in broad daylight while you are in the house! This is disrespect!"

His mother pressed play.

Faint sounds. Breathing. My voice whispering "Luca—" and his low voice "I've got you, wife."

My knees almost gave out.

Sophia looked at me, victorious. "You have no shame, Lila. Seducing him in his office like a—"

Luca moved so fast I didn't see it.

He took the phone from his mother's hand and smashed it against the wall. It shattered.

"Enough," he said, voice deadly quiet.

Sophia screamed. "My phone! Luca, how dare you—"

"How dare YOU," he roared. The whole house shook. Even the guards flinched. "You recorded my wife and me in our private office? In my house? You put a phone to my locked door?"

"I was worried! I heard noises—"

"You were listening to my wife moan my name and you decided to record it to show my mother?"

Silence.

His mother looked away, embarrassed.

Sophia's fake tears stopped.

Luca pulled me behind him, his hand tight around mine. Protective.

"Mother, look at me," he said to his mother. "That recording is me with MY WIFE. In MY office. On MY couch. She is my wife. I can hold her wherever I want. If you are uncomfortable with a married couple loving each other in their own house, then you should not be in this house."

"Luca, language—" his mother started.

"No. I have been respectful. I let you stay. I let Sophia stay in the guest house after she humiliated my wife last night. But this? Recording us? Trying to shame my wife for being with me? That's low. Even for you, Sophia."

Sophia's face twisted. "You will regret this. You think this village girl can be a Romano wife? She doesn't know—"

"She knows how to be my wife," Luca cut her off. "Which is the only thing that matters. She stood by me last night when that man came. She wore my ring. She stayed when you tried to ruin her. What have you ever done except try to destroy us?"

He turned to the guards at the door.

"Get her bags from the guest house. Put them outside the gate. Now."

"Luca, you can't!" Sophia screamed. "Auntie, tell him!"

His mother sighed. "Sophia, maybe you should go to the hotel for a few days..."

"A few days? He just—"

"NOW," Luca said.

Two guards left.

Sophia was shaking with rage. She looked at me, pure hate.

"This is not over, Lila. You think you won because you opened your legs in his office? He will get tired. Men like Luca always get tired of boring girls like you."

Before I could reply, Luca stepped forward.

"If you ever speak about my wife like that again, I will not be this calm. Do you understand me?"

Sophia stepped back, scared for the first time.

The guards came back. "Done, boss."

"Good. Escort Miss Sophia out. If she comes back onto this property without my permission, call the police. Not security. Police."

Sophia was dragged out, screaming, her designer shoes scraping the marble.

The door closed.

Silence.

His mother sat down slowly. "Luca, that was... harsh."

"She recorded us, Mother," he said, softer now to his mom. "My wife and me. In an intimate moment. And tried to use it to shame Lila. Would Father have allowed that?"

His mother didn't answer. She looked at me, and for the first time, there was a little bit of respect in her eyes.

"Lila, dear... I... I am sorry you had to experience that."

I nodded, tears in my eyes. "Thank you."

"Go," she said to Luca. "Take your wife upstairs. You both... need a minute."

---

Luca didn't need to be told twice. He picked me up — bridal style — right in front of his mother, and carried me upstairs.

His room. Our room now.

He locked the door. Put me on the bed. Knelt in front of me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, hands on my knees.

"I'm embarrassed," I whispered. "Your mother heard—"

"She heard that her son is obsessed with his wife. That's all she heard," he said. "Lila, look at me."

I looked.

"I don't care who hears you say my name. I want the whole world to hear. Let them hear that you are mine. Let them hear that I am yours. I am done hiding."

He crawled onto the bed with me, pulled me into his chest, jacket still around us.

"You were so brave downstairs," I said.

"I was so angry," he admitted. "When I realized she recorded you... I saw red. No one gets to shame you for being with me. No one."

He kissed my hair, my scar, my cheeks, my lips — soft kisses, trying to erase the embarrassment.

"Stay here tonight," he whispered. "Just like this. Let me hold you."

"What about dinner?"

"Dinner can wait. My mother can wait. The whole world can wait. Right now, I just want my wife in my arms, in my shirt, in my bed, where she belongs."

I curled into him. His hand found mine, our rings clinking together — his black one, my red one.

Outside, we could hear Sophia's car screeching away from the gate.

Inside, it was just us. Safe. Warm. His.

And for the first time since I married Luca Romano to pay my father's debt, I didn't feel like a contract wife.

I felt like his wife. Really his.

"Luca?"

"Yes, wife?"

"I think... I think I'm falling for you."

He went still. Then he looked down at me, eyes dark and shocked and happy all at once.

"Say that again."

"I'm falling for you."

He kissed me then — not desperate like in the office, but deep, slow, full of promise.

"Good," he whispered against my lips. "Because I fell for you the day you walked into my office in that too-big dress and told me you would marry me to save your father. I've been yours since then."

We stayed like that, tangled in his big bed, his shirt, his jacket, his arms.

And downstairs, his mother picked up the shattered pieces of Sophia's phone and threw them in the trash.

Because Sophia was gone.

But we were just beginning.