Page 16 of De Luca: The Saint

“I’ve never even heard of Zenvo.”

He puts the car into gear and takes off. It’s fast, like a race car so I quickly fasten my seatbelt.

“They’re made in Denmark. There aren’t many people in the United States that own them.”

I run my hand along the blue pattern on the door, “It looks pricey.”

He laughs as he turns onto a side street, “It is. I got a deal though. One day, I’ll let you drive it.”

Shaking my head, I say, “No thanks. I’d be terrified to wreck it.”

Damian shrugs, “As long as you didn’t get hurt, I’d forgive you, Kitty Kat. It’s only money.”

I laugh bitterly, “That’s easy to say when you have a lot of cash. When you don’t, it’s different.”

He affectionately places his hand on my leg, “Everything will be okay. I promise you.”

Chapter Ten

Damian

I’ve never known poverty, and I never will. I’ve dealt with some heavy shit in my life, but money isn’t one of them. So, I can’t understand what life has been like for her, but I do empathize with her. I don’t judge Kat or anyone else who struggles financially. I can’t imagine how terrible it is to not know how you’ll pay the rent or eat. Money is closely tied to how she feels about herself, and I don’t like that. Her having less money in her bank account than mine doesn’t make her worth any less. Katherina is more valuable than anything I own. Even my one-and-a-half million-dollar car. She doesn’t see it yet, but one day she will.

Pulling up to the restaurant I’m taking her to, I park along the side of the street in front of an owner-parking-only sign.

“You can’t park here.”

I chuckle, “Sure I can.”

After getting out of the car, I walk around to her side and open the door for her.

She gets out but continues to argue with me, “It says LaFontaine owner parking only, Damian.”

I smile softly at Kat and brush my thumb down the side of her face. I can’t help myself, when she’s near me, I want my hands on her in some way. “I am the owner, Kitty Kat. Now, let's go eat, shall we?”

Kat’s blue eyes meet my hazel ones, “Is there anything you don’t own? There must be one dream you never achieved.”

I wink at her, “When I was a little boy, I dreamed of owning McDonald’s. I don’t own it. The fucker won’t sell to me. Can you believe that?”

She giggles, and it causes warmth to spread through my chest, “Come on.”

We walk into the restaurant and go straight to my table in the back. Nobody else ever sits in this spot.

My staff won’t bother us. They will simply bring the food and leave.

I pull out the chair for Kat, and she takes a seat. I move across from her and sink into my chair.

“Why did you want to own McDonald’s?”

Suddenly, I regret ever mentioning that to her. It’s difficult for me to discuss my mother, and my love of McDonald’s starts with her.

“Let’s get drinks first and then I’ll tell you about my mother.”

I signal for the waiter to come over.

He walks quickly to our table and nods, “Sir, what may I get you this evening?”

“A bottle of Roagna Pira Riserva. We’ll have that first and then the tasting menu, please.”

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