Page 16 of Luca
And here I was talking to his crazy brother. He seemed to be everywhere, all the goddamn time.
Luca’s eyes were still on me, pulling me in like a tide that I couldn’t fight. A tide that’d swallow me whole. If I let him, he’d wreck me, slam me up against the rocky shore, and leave me to drown.
Just like his father had done to mine.
But I wouldn’t let him. Never trust a King was what my brothers always said, and I had to agree. I hadn’t told anyone what I remembered after that night in Temptation. Or of my suspicion that Cassio only used me to get to Áine.
The King brothers were just as cruel and conniving as their father.
If only I didn’t find Luca’s stupid eyes so damn fascinating. Most of the time, he wore a custom-made suit. Tall with wide shoulders and jet-black hair and golden skin, he was popular with women. But it was his lips and eyes that sealed the deal. I couldn’t stand the intense way he studied me.
Like he saw more of me than anyone else. Every time I saw him, he studied me, probably cataloging all my faults.
Those eyes got to me every goddamn time. Unlike Cassio’s eyes, Luca had a hint of hazel in his eyes when you were close to him. There was something wild lurking in them that unsettled me. Rattled me.
I fucking hated it.
So I stayed the fuck away from him. The King family was the enemy.
So I left him behind without another glance.
I was a queen, moving onto bigger and better things.
ChapterSeven
LUCA
Three Months Later
Margaret was almost five months pregnant. Her uncle and mother wouldn’t stop finding candidates for my woman.
They should really stop lining up men for her to marry.
Hadn’t they realized after the second fiancé died, there’d be no wedding? How many fucking men did I have to kill before they got the message?
It was my homage to the Halloween party at Temptation. My first rejection by a woman dressed as Black Widow. Of course, it was a private joke, and it was never my intent for others in the underworld to refer to her as a black widow.
I was seriously considering eliminating every single person that uttered those words. Maybe starting with her mother since the bitch liked to gossip.
A moan pulled me back to the problem at hand. Another fiancé.
This one was a big fucker. I thought I was tall, but this guy was a motherfucking giant. And I had to carry his big ass from my garage, down to my basement. Of all the goddamn times for the elevator in my building to be broken. Fucking city living. It’d be easier if I was in Sicily.
Pissed off at the elevator and the world, I made the idiot-slash-creep predator suffer even more. I started by cutting off his ears.
The screams of pain bounced against the walls. It was fucking annoying. This one was a bigger coward than the last fiancé. And I had no patience for the whiny prick.
The Callahan family should have done a better job finding suitable men for Margaret. They had to be desperate to marry her off. Not that it would make a difference, but if they’d find some decent ones, I’d only break their legs and put them in the hospital. This guy was a cheater, a low ranking member of a fellow Irish mafia from Boston. This one liked to take out his anger on the weaker family members. Beating his sister. His little brother. Even his mother. Just because he didn’t have a criminal record didn’t make him a good match. That fucker would never get close to my baby.
“Please, please, spare me,” he cried. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
God, he was pathetic. I often took on the role of an enforcer for my grandfather, but I had to admit, no man had ever cried as much as this one. He was too busy shitting his pants and pleading for his life, and giving me a pounding headache along the way.
“If you thought you’d get to live on the same planet as my daughter,” I growled, “You have another thing coming.”
My chest grew full as I thought back to the day of the last sonogram. That moment I saw my little, baby girl on the screen, I knew I’d tear this world apart to keep her safe. My obsession grew tenfold. And I knew Margaret would be a good mother. She read books to our unborn child as she sat in her rocking chair. She sang to her. Massaged her belly and read articles on healthy babies for hours on the internet.
Yes, I stalked her. I watched her through surveillance cameras. I bugged her home. Maybe it was morally questionable, but I did it to keep them safe. It gave me peace. We all did sketchy shit for the people we love. Right?
