Page 9 of Checkmate

Luca studies me, his eyes holding me hostage, or so it feels, and for the first time in my life, it makes me self-conscious. It’s like he sees past my bluster and bullshit. I carry an attitude as a defense mechanism, but I feel like he’s unveiling every secret, every trick, and every little truth I try to hide right now. He moves toward me and yet, for the life of me, I can’t seem to move away from him. Normally, I’d be clear across the room, but I’m paralyzed or hypnotized. Unless I’m the one stalking toward someone with determination, I don’t let people get close to me. But Luca is breaking all the rules. He stops and looks down at me. Even in my sky-high Christian Louboutin heels, he towers over my five-foot frame. “You think you have me all figured out?” I nod my head and meet his eyes, I hold his blue with my gray, refusing to back down, it’s not in my nature. “I hate to break it to you, beautiful, but you’re wrong.”

“Really?” I ask, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

He nods his head. “I had a life before this one. A life that had two very loving parents that showed me how relationships should work, what love should look like. I strive to do that in this modern world of hookups. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t want to have meaningless sex with pretty faces. I want the real thing. I want it all or nothing at all.” He steps away, still holding my eyes, and shrugs nonchalantly. Luca doesn’t even act like he just basically said the most uncool thing for a guy his age in his position ever. I’d be lying though, if I didn’t admit my knees are a little weak and my heart is fluttering like a hummingbird. I’d like to call his monologue a bluff, but I can see the truth in his eyes.

Luca disappears into what I assume is his closet, but I’ve lost my curiosity. I can’t afford to let my guard down. I can’t let my knees go weak over some man that works for my father. I’m being ridiculous. As I wait for him, still frozen in place, I start to hum, but I don’t even realize I’m doing it until Luca appears and gives me a quizzical look. “It’s a habit.”

“You hum when you’re nervous.” The way he says that makes me feel vulnerable, and instantly I want to bite back so he doesn’t think he figured me out.

I stand up straighter, crossing my arms. “No, I just hum when I’m bored out of my mind.”

He chuckles but doesn’t bother to turn around from where he’s packing his suitcase on the bed. I watch for a moment as his suit jacket pulls tightly across his shoulder blades from his muscles constricting and it’s like I can picture his bare back in that moment. I bite my bottom lip for a reason. “You sure you aren’t nervous? The humming is getting louder,” he says,glancing over his shoulder at me.

I glare at him. “I’m sure. I’m just becoming more bored.”

“What are you humming anyways?” He turns around, his bag zipped up tight and in his hand.

“What?” I ask, sounding annoyed.

His eyes show laughter, but he just gives me a small smile. “The song that you’re humming, what is it?”

“Oh.” I think for a second, but it comes to me pretty quickly what I’m humming and why. His damn comment about wanting it all or nothing at all reminded me of a boy band I loved once upon a time. “All or Nothing by O-Town.” Luca raises his eyebrows clearly confused. I shake my head. “They were a boy band when that whole craze was taking over the music scene, but that song was great.”

“If you say so,” he tells me, his eyes smiling back at me for a moment. “Are you ready to go?”

I drop my head back dramatically. “Finally,” I groan out, like this has been pure torture for me, but it’s been far from it. I’ve actually enjoyed his company somewhat, but it’s been unnerving with the way he looks at me. I follow behind Luca as we head back to his car, but I can’t help but replay his words in my head. I’m never wrong about a person, but I might have been wrong about him.

Twelve

Vivianna

I wake up to a light knock on the door. It sounds so far away and then I remember it kind of is. I’m in my old bedroom and the door is a good ways away from the bed. I hop up and grab my robe as I make my way to the door. I swing the door open while I tie the robe shut. Luca is standing there looking better than chocolate, and that’s my favorite thing in the world. But seeing Luca standing there in a three-piece black suit with a black tie, shiny black shoes, and his sandy blond hair perfectly styled, has me melting. His blue eyes seem brighter than they did last night, maybe it’s all the darkness surrounding him today. His beard is trimmed down to look like stubble coating his strong jaw line. Luca holds out his hand, extending me a to-go cup from one of the local coffee shops in town. I recognize the logo on the cup. “Good morning, Miss Giordano.”

I glare at him. “Vivianna. It’s just Vivianna and good morning, Luca.”

“I heard you used to have a liking for double mocha cappuccino and I’m hoping that’s still correct,” he tells me, as he holds out the cup for me to take.

I’m curious how he knows my favorite coffee, but decide not to ask because I can figure it’s probably something to do with Leo and the idea of hearing his name right now rips at my heart. Today is hard enough. I decide I could be nice to Luca, at least for today, so I give him a smile and take the cup. “Thank you. They are still my favorite.” I take a sip and moan in appreciation, my eyes closing on their own behalf. “This is just what I needed.”

“I thought you could use it. Gina asked if you’d like something for breakfast fixed and brought up.”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t have much of an appetite, but thank you again. I guess I need to get ready for today.”

Luca gives me a sad look, but I know it’s not because he pities me. He’s sad too. “You still have a couple of hours. I’ll just be out here in the sitting area on this floor.”

I nod my head and watch as he heads down the upstairs hall, until he reaches the small sitting area that overlooks the downstairs. I sigh, closing the bedroom door. I walk into the bathroom and take a seat at the makeup vanity. I sigh and look in the mirror. The last thing I could possibly care about right now is my makeup, but in this world, everything has to be on point.

Whoever placed the hit on Leo is more than likely going to be standing amongst us today. It’s also likely that the person who pulled the trigger will be in attendance too. Keeping up the act of playing nice when really they are buying their time. I have to look perfect. I have to look strong. I have to act unaffected, because any sign of weakness lets them know that they have affected my father. My father may not be my favorite person, we may never see eye to eye, but he is still my father.

I put my hair into the large rollers that will give my hair the perfect amount of body and get to work on my makeup. Once I’m done creating the perfect smoky eye and nude lip, I walk to my closet. I stand there fighting back the tears that are threatening me. All of this seems so wrong. If I came from a normal family, I wouldn’t have to put on this front. I would be allowed to break down, but I can’t. I shake my head slightly and reach out for the dress I packed for the funeral.

Once I get my dress on, I head back to the vanity and release my hair. I take one side and pin it back so that my hair will hang down my back and over the one side, making it impossible to use my hair as a veil to hide behind. I grab my black Jimmy Choo heels and slip them on before adding my jewelry. I walk over to my full-length mirror and examine my appearance. My dress is a sleek, form fitting black dress that hits just above the knee and belted under the breasts. It feels like something my mother would have liked, almost an old Hollywood vibe. I placed my three carat diamond stud earrings in my ears along with my diamond tennis bracelet. I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Smoothing down my dress, I sigh and walk over to my window. The cars have already begun to file in. There’s a knock on the door and I call out, “Come in.”

“Miss Giordano,” Luca says, from across the room.

I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing because laughing right now seems wrong, but it also sounds wrong for Luca to refer to me as Miss Giordano. “Luca, it’s Vivianna.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. It’s a habit,” he says, sounding apologetic.

---