Page 22 of Empire of Temptation

My mind tripped over this word. I didn’t know what to do, speech deserting me, as the seconds ticked by. Women have been easily available to me since I was fourteen. There wasn’t a time when I wanted one and couldn’t have her.

Until now.

Fuck, it wasn’t fair. I was drawn to this girl for some reason, even when I shouldn’t be. And the feeling was reciprocated. In any other circumstance, I’d be angling to get her into a bed upstairs right now.

But I couldn’t.

I took a long drink to clear my head. “You think my watch is sexy.”

“Is that crazy? It’s just metal and gears. But somehow it’s elegant and mature. Like cuff links. Or reading glasses.” She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Ignore me. I’m going to go.”

My cuffs were rolled at the moment and my glasses were in my office, but I wore all those things.

She was out of her seat before I could stop her. “Again, thanks for your help, Luca. I really appreciate it.”

There was so much I wanted to say, but my mind was a tangled mess. “You’re welcome, Valentina.”

She bumped into the stool, her arms flailing a bit as she lost her balance. I grabbed her wrist to steady her, and my fingers stroked her warm, soft skin for a few seconds before I let her go.

“Okay, bye.” She gave me an awkward wave and headed for the back door.

“Ciao, bella,” I said softly, not taking my eyes off her.

She left and I was alone. Dinner. She’d brought me food. I shook my head and studied my plate. She thought my watch was sexy.

What was it about her? She was too young, too innocent. American.A girl I was using to lure out her father. Pursuing her would be the height of stupidity.

And I wasn’t stupid.

I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me like this.

She’d regarded me like a hero for such a simple act. And to thank me, she brought me food in return. When was the last time someone I wasn’t paying had taken care of me like this?

I couldn’t remember.

Cazzo, this girl. She knew all the right buttons to push.

I wasn’t used to denying myself when I wanted something. I was the boss. The world bowed to my whims, not the other way around. As my father liked to say,Chi nasce lupo, non muore agnello.He who is born a wolf does not die a lamb.

I was tired of acting the part of a lamb with her.

Hoping wine might improve the taste of the food, I rose, poured a glass, then sat back down. My mind started churning, examining. Plotting.

This wasn’t complicated. The business with Valentina’s father and Palmieri was separate from any physical relationship I might have with her. We would monitor the camera feeds at her house and restaurant for any sign of Segreto, ready to grab him if he appeared. And there was a good chance we could get Niccolò out of prison before using her became necessary.

And if I eventually needed to get her on a plane to Italy, I would have an easier time of it if she trusted me.

There was nothing stopping me from having her. In fact, it might work to my advantage.

I needed to think. I returned my attention to the chicken dish. She wanted me to eat it? Then I would eat it. Even if it killed me.

Chapter Seven

Valentina

We were busy. Roberto and I worked together on a plan to hire new staff, rearrange the dining room, and update the decor. I also met with Giovanni to discuss his vision for the menu. He deferred to me, though I could tell he was more than capable of doing this alone. Would probably do a better job, even.

But this place was mine. I wasn’t letting anyone take over.

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