Page 9 of Luca
“I’d say ‘Nice to meet you’ but my Da taught me never to lie.” Agitated at myself and hating any offspring of Benito King, I tapped my foot in agitation. “Now move out of my way, or you’ll regret the day you were born.”
He gave me a dry chuckle, his lips curved in a sardonic smile. “Too late for that, mia bella.”
“Stop calling me that,” I snapped. “You… you…” I couldn’t find the appropriate word to describe him.
“Dance with me,” he demanded, his hand still around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
Before I realized what I was doing, my body moved at his command. Slowly. Sensually. Sexy.
I felt his hard body against mine and every nerve in me shuddered and tingled in expectation. I didn’t like it. No, that was an understatement. I hated it.
He bent his head, his mouth against my ear. “I’m going to have you, mia bella. I didn’t know it until now, but you’re my end game.”
His hot breath sent shudders down my back. His words sent unsettling tremors through every nerve in my body.
I pushed him and stumbled backwards, then quickly pulled myself together.
Through the rush buzzing through my veins and ringing in my ears, the words of the song blaring through the speakers finally registered.
‘You’re just a fuckboy’ blared through the speakers. Everyone knew that Luca King was a notorious playboy. He was a master of one night stands. In fact, it was rumored it was his rule. Never sleep with the same woman twice.
“I know your reputation, Luca King,” I hissed, glaring at him with hate. “You’re a fuckboy no decent woman would ever want.”
Then I turned on my heels, flipped him the bird over my shoulder, and never looked back.
ChapterThree
LUCA
Two years later
Las Vegas was welcoming, as always.
Two years had passed since I first crossed paths with Margaret at Temptation.
Since then, we’d run into each other occasionally. Never accidentally. Most of the time, she acted like she didn’t even know me. I couldn’t stay away. I needed to see those crystal blue eyes and drown in them.
I’d kept tabs on her all along.
I convinced myself it was just to ensure she was safe and well. It was fucking bullshit. It was to feed my obsession. The girl couldn’t stand me. Each time she spotted me, her lips would curl into a sneer and she’d glare at me. Looking like my father wasn’t doing me any favors.
A few times she even called me a stalker. I took it as a compliment.
So more often than not, I watched her from the shadows. I couldn’t have her turn to her uncle and brothers for help.
Cassio would have my balls if I ruined his chances at his match. Of course, the match he wanted wasn’t exactly the match that he currently had.
Cassio got it into his head that he needed to get married. The plan was set in motion, but the burning part was that he planned on using my woman, his current fiancée, so that he could get the woman he really wanted. My goddamned woman. So while Cassio schemed how to use Margaret as a decoy to get Áine Evans for his bride, I made my own plans.
But he was crazy if he thought I’d sit back and watch as he set up Margaret with some douchebag.
If Cassio’s plan went through, we’d become family since Áine was Margaret’s cousin. And I’d be damned if I watched my woman with another man for every holiday, birthday, and reunion.
Yeah, fuck that!
Cassio lined up Margaret’s old boyfriend to show up in Vegas. Then he left all the logistics to me. I ensured the fucker was buried six feet under.
Since my brother was vague with specifics, I left it all to my imagination.
