Page 15 of De Luca: The Saint

“Yes, my bus leaves in a few hours, but I have to ship some boxes first.”

He storms over to me like rage is traveling through his bloodstream, “Here’s the thing, Angel. You aren’t going to Vegas. I’m taking you home with me. End of discussion.”

Tilting my head back, I glance at his face, seething, “No, I am not. I just met you. I know nothing about you other than the fact that you’re a mobster. I’d be better off on the streets.”

He slides his hand into my hair and winds the strands around his fist, “Oh Kitty Kat, you wound me. You have two choices, baby. Come with me willingly or against your will. Either way, the end result is exactly the fucking same.”

I glare at him defiantly, “Damian, no. I’m not going with you. Please stop this. This is over the top behavior and frankly, insane. You don’t even know me.”

Rubbing his knuckles down the side of my face, he speaks low, “Kitty Kat, I know everything I need to know right now. Everything else, I’ll learn as I go.”

A tear rolls down my cheek as the defeat sets in, “Why are you doing this? Is this the saving women thing? I don’t want to be saved. We are nothing to each other.”

Pain flashes across his face before he hides it, “Don’t say that, Kat. You are not nothing to me. What is this? I have no fucking clue. I only know that every second I spend with you makes me crave you more. This is new for me too. I’ve never known anyone that has this kind of effect on me. You’re like a cool rain on my face in one-hundred-degree heat. That first drink of water after crawling across the desert sand for days. I don’t know what this is. But whatever it is, I fucking want it. All of it.”

He leans down and swipes his tongue across my lips, “Let me take care of you, for a little while, not forever. I will never hold it over your head. You’re safe with me.”

Rolling my eyes, I relent, “Fine.”

Damian grins at me with that panty-melting smile, “Good. I didn’t want to kidnap you, but I would have.”

Blowing a long breath out, I shake my head, “You’re a little much, Damian De Luca.”

He clutches his chest like he’s having a heart attack, “Again, you wound me, Angel. I like to think I’m a lot much.”

I can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles from my throat, “Don’t worry, Damian, you are.”

With a wink, he says, “Good. I need to keep my reputation intact. I can’t have you out there ruining it.”

Damian cups my cheeks with both hands and leans in to kiss me. He presses his soft lips to mine, and again, I’m lost in him.

I want to be strong and stand on my own two feet. The truth is I’m exhausted. The constant worrying is weighing me down. If he wants to shoulder the burden for a little while, maybe I should let him if that’s what he wants. Silently, I promise myself that this will be temporary.

Sliding his tongue against mine, he groans, causing the butterflies to flutter not only in my belly but between my thighs.

He pulls back, “Jesus Angel. You make me crazy. Let’s go get you food. You’ve eaten your last cup of noodle bullshit.”

Damian pulls out his phone.

I watch as his fingers fly across the screen.

Then he pockets it, “Come on. Someone will come by to get your things.”

“Who?” I ask as he grabs my hand and pulls me to the door.

“An employee. He will bring it to my apartment.” He says apartment, but it’s more a mansion or a castle, really. Of course, I like his house, it’s stunning, but it serves as a reminder of how I’ve lived my entire life, only ever barely above poverty.

My bachelor apartment is run down, and disgusting compared to his home. I keep it clean, but the walls appear dirty because it hasn’t had a fresh coat of paint in decades. I’m embarrassed that he saw it. I expected him to act appalled by stepping inside, but he didn’t. The only reaction I got from him was the lack of food.

We walk hand in hand outside to his vehicle.

I stand frozen as I stare at it. This car definitely costs more than most people’s homes. He pulls me over to the passenger side and opens my door. I glance at him in shock while he grins like the cat who ate the canary, and I slide inside. The interior is mostly black with blue stitching. I’ve never even seen a car like this in my life. It’s like something you’d expect in a Fast and Furious movie.

He closes my door and walks over to the driver’s side. Sliding in, he starts the car.

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts, “What kind of car is this?”

He winks, “Zenvo TSR-S.”

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