She gasped. Her hands came up to my chest, but she didn’t push.

“When you try to bite the wolf,” I said, “he just might bite back.”

To make my point, I took her earlobe into my mouth and gently drew my teeth over it, drawing it out. Beneath the hand that rested against her heart, her nipple hardened.

A moment later, I released her and sat back, victorious. I tapped my ring against the window, absently glancing at the family crest. The driver opened the door.

“Let’s go put your father in the ground,” I said, climbing out. She emerged a moment later, the net of her hat back in place. I buttoned my coat jacket. “Fucking stifling here.” I gestured for her to go ahead. She did, refusing to meet my gaze or make a comment. I smiled, putting one tick on my side of the column marking my win for this round.

We stayed in my family’s home in Calabria, sharing a suite of rooms—a bedroom for each of us and a common sitting room. Our flight to New Jersey left the next day. Lucia would move into my home tomorrow. She’d finished her studies, graduated with honors, and now that she’d turned twenty-one, it was time for me to take possession of her.

A knock at the door announced the delivery of dinner. As a kindness, I’d ordered our meal in our room rather than making her eat with my family. A girl I didn’t know set the table in the living area and left. The scent of the food made my stomach rumble. I knocked on Lucia’s bedroom door. I wouldn’t force her to share my bed. Not just yet.

“Dinner’s ready,” I said through the door.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied. “I already told you that.”

“Well, you need to eat. You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Open the door, Lucia.”

“Go away, Salvatore.”

“I’m only asking once.”

“Then what? You’ll huff and you’ll puff and you’ll break my door down? Isn’t that what the big bad wolf does?”

I smiled. Clever.

But I was cleverer.

I slid my key into the lock and pushed the door open. She gasped, turning from where she sat at the vanity.

“No need to exert myself huffing and puffing. I have the key. It’s my house.” I held it out for her to see before tucking it into my pocket.

Even air-conditioned, the rooms felt sticky, and her bedroom more so. I’d taken off the heavy jacket and tie I’d worn earlier, and now I unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt.

“You mean your father’s house,” she goaded. She already knew the buttons to push.