by Zavi James
“Hello, Mia.”
She looked up at me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The sun caught a few of the piercings that decorated her lobe, causing them to glint in the light. “Lucas.”
There was no warmth in her voice, but I didn’t expect any. She slotted a bookmark between the pages and placed the book to the side. I noticed there was no crack in the spine. From what I’ve learned of Mia in the very short time we’d known each other, I was not surprised that she treated her things with care.
I held the bouquet out towards her, obscuring her from my view temporarily. Mia took it from my hand, paper rustling during the exchange, and regarded the flowers warily as if she expected something sinister to creep from the depths of the stems.
“What are these for?” she asked, studying them.
Taking the seat opposite her on one of the single chairs, I answered, “Last night. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I gestured at her wrist where the discoloration stood out against her olive skin. I wasn’t a man who was above violence, but I wouldn’t hurt a woman unless it was necessary. It made me uncomfortable that I’d left a mark on her.
A few moments of silence before Mia spoke and the knot in my chest eased. “They’re beautiful. Lilies are my favorite.”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I said to her quietly. My life was complicated enough without the added stress of expecting an argument every time I saw Mia.
“I don’t think you can get off on the right foot when you’re used as collateral,” she said. I was beginning to think Mia couldn’t help but say exactly what was on her mind at any given time. She made a valid point. We weren’t old friends who had bumped into each other and realized the years had changed us both.
I let out a frustrated sigh, “I have a business to run, Mia. I’m not the one at fault here. Your father knew exactly what he was doing and who he was dealing with. I’m not the big bad wolf.”
I was aggravated by the fact that I’d taken the role of villain in this narrative. Hector drove us to this point and Mia... Mia was this tiny, innocent looking woman who would have found her place perfectly on my arm and in my bed if it weren’t for her mouth. The moment she spoke it drove me insane. I’d never met anyone with such a blatant disregard for who I was or what I was capable of.
“I know,” she said eventually, her gaze on the flowers once more.
“Mia.” I took in a deep breath, surprised but satisfied by her agreement. “You’re going to be here for a while until your father repays his debt.”
Her eyes came up to meet mine and I could see the momentary panic that flitted across her features.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” I reassured her. I wouldn’t have a need to as long as he kept his word. “Once I’m paid what I’m owed you get to go home.”
Mia mulled over my words before she gave me a nod. I didn’t have an exact date for her, that all depended on her father, but at least things were clear. The quicker Hector could pay me the sooner she’d be home.
“Look,” I continued. “There are a few rules that you need to follow since you are staying here.”
She rolled her eyes before I got the chance to start.
“Stop,” I told her firmly and Mia looked surprised at my sudden change in tone. “This is my home. You’re part of my life and therefore you’ll show me some respect.”
“You can’t just demand respect,” Mia shot back at me, eyes narrowed.
Why was I not surprised that she’d fight back on this? The docile and meek nature she’d just shown when agreeing with me had vanished.
“I sure as hell can,” I told her. “I’m keeping you here and you aren’t exactly being tortured, Mia. The least you can do is follow that rule.”
I could see in her face the way that she fought with herself. Aside from the problematic first evening, Mia had the run of the entire house and grounds, and would want for nothing while she was under my care.
“Fine,” she said, chin tipped up in defiance. My fingers itched to reach across and correct the insolence. “But I want respect in return, Lucas. This can’t happen again.” She held up her hand and twisted it around indicating her wrist.
“I can assure you that will never happen again,” I told her without a doubt. With Mia and her barbed tongue now living with me, I would need to make a stronger effort to keep hold of my temper. Of course, that would be easier if Mia could follow the rules I had for her.
“What else?” she asked me, wanting to know the other rules she’d need to abide by while she lived here.
It irritated me the way she said it, as if I was wasting her time. As if she had better things to be doing. “You don’t leave this house.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mia laughed. “I can’t just stay here for God knows how long. I’ll go mad.”
I gritted my teeth at how severely I underestimated this woman. When she walked into my office I had pegged her as the soft and gentle type, but she was proving me wrong. There was a fire in her telling me if I tried to enforce this rule, she’d find a way to break it and that would lead to a whole host of trouble that I neither needed nor wanted.
“You don’t leave this house without Dominic.” I adjusted the rule, attempting to find a way to avoid another incident with her.
“Who’s Dominic?”
“He works for me. Dom does a lot of the maintenance around the house since I’m not here to do it myself,” I explained.
“I don’t see why I can’t leave on my own,” she said. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I replied, eyes darkening as they trained on her. “I know you aren’t going anywhere, because I know you’re not stupid enough to put your father in danger. It’s other people I don’t trust. You know exactly what kind of business I operate.”
She’d only dealt with me and had one interaction with Dante but there was a wider implication to being a part of this world. I didn’t need her running around causing chaos when she was attached to my name, no matter how temporary that fixture was.
Mia let out a soft sigh and I leaned forward, resting my arms on my knees. In the setting sun, with the fiery spirit briefly dimmed, I was struck again by how perfect she would look in my bed. A swathe of dark hair against the sheets, hooded eyes and lips swollen from her mouth doing more than answering me back.
“Okay,” she said, putting a pin through my thoughts. “I need to meet him.”
“I’ll introduce you,” I told her, pleased that she was receptive to the compromise. I would inform Dom of where she was allowed to go and that he would be held responsible for any issues while she was with him. Maybe Dom would have more luck with keeping her sweet than I did.
“Anything else?”
“I want honesty, Mia,” I said as I straightened up again. “If I ask you something, I don’t expect to repeat myself and I don’t want to find you lying. I think that’s a pretty simple set of rules. It’ll make it easier for you while you live here if you follow them.”
She looked slightly surprised by the last rule. “Sure,” she said finally, agreeing to the terms.
I know that I’d had to clip her wings, but I was not asking for much from her. She needed to comply so that we could avoid the house becoming a battlefield on a daily basis.
“Will you introduce me to Dominic now?” Mia suggested.
I nodded and stood up from the chair. Mia followed, grabbing her book from the seat.
“Ladies first,” I said, gesturing back to the house.
Mia moved past me and stopped abruptly as the book slipped from her grasp. She jerked awkwardly in an attempt to catch it, clutching it against her chest as her shirt slipped off one shoulder, hair swinging wildly from the motion.
I clocked it before she had a chance to adjust her shirt again. My fingers brushed against the skin at the nape of her neck, where in black cursive are the words ‘I was not built to break’. I felt her tense at my touch.
“You have
ink.” My voice was low as my fingers traced over a few of the letters. I kept my touch light and could see the goosebumps pimple her skin. There was something about a woman who chose to permanently mark herself that made something deep in me wake up. And Mia had chosen such an interesting phrase to carry with her throughout her life. She continued to surprise me with every exchange.
“Yeah,” she breathed the word, but Mia didn’t move away from my touch.
“Do you have any more?”
She shook her head, a barely perceptible motion. “None that I can show you.”
There was a small growl from my throat at the thought of where else she had decorated her skin that she felt she couldn’t show me. The earlier thoughts rushed back into my mind and there was a hunger to inspect every inch of her body until I was satisfied that I knew every secret. I couldn’t help myself as I leaned in, lips brushing against the skin where the tattoo sat, and I could hear the way Mia’s breath hitched before she pulled away from me.
The moment was broken along with the contact and I started to walk. “Dom will probably be in the garage.”
Chapter Six
Mia
It’d been a few days since Luc came home with flowers as an apology and we hadn’t had any heated exchanges since. We’d transitioned into an awkward routine that saw us sit for breakfast and dinner together, while he worked during the day. I occupied myself during the empty hours by talking to the staff that rotated throughout the week but found myself gravitating towards Dom and Lydia, who seemed to have more permanent positions on the Foster schedule.
Even when our paths crossed, Luc kept his distance. Unlike the strange, charged moment we had when he’d spotted my tattoo out on the grounds. He had been gentle, almost tender in the way he had ghosted the skin at the nape of my neck. The vulnerable moment had left me with lingering thoughts of his lips that I batted away as soon as they formed.
“Go out with Dominic today,” Luc told me at breakfast. “Get some clothes. You can’t keep wearing the same thing.”
“I don’t exactly have the money to buy a new wardrobe,” I said to him, rolling my eyes. Moving in with Luc had required me to hand in my resignation. Any illusion I’d had of keeping some level of normality in my life had quickly been shattered by Luc’s iron fist. I was learning to choose my battles.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” he said. “I brought you here, Mia. I’ll look after the basics.” He pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his feet. “Don’t argue. Get what you need. I won’t be back until later tonight so have dinner without me.”
“Why will you be back late?” I asked, curious about what would keep him away. So far, Luc kept to a schedule that made it easier to believe that the whispers were nothing more than wild assumptions and accusations.
Lucas’s features darkened and nerves started to pulse through my system.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said, avoiding answering my question. He placed a dark piece of plastic on the table next to my bowl and I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. “I said don’t argue.”
Lucas left without another word and I stared at the credit card. This didn’t feel right. I pushed it away into the center of the table. I didn’t have the money for an entire wardrobe, but I could still manage to buy things for myself.
I tracked down Dom in one of the garages. “Dom?” I called from the door. “Lucas wants me to go shopping because apparently my clothes aren’t cutting it anymore.”
A tanned man with a mop of curly brown hair slid out from under the sports car and sat up. “Well, we’ll have to listen to His Highness, won’t we?”
I couldn’t help but grin at his response. If I thought Lydia was nice then Dom could be classified as a sweetheart in my eyes. Closer in age and with a thick Brazilian accent, Dom and I had clicked from the moment Lucas introduced us to one another.
“Come on,” I said to him. “I’m looking forward to getting out of these walls.”
Dom and I spent most of the morning ducking in and out of stores while I picked out a few new pieces. I stuck to what I knew, but Dom soon drove us into a part of town that housed designer boutiques and I cringed at the price tags attached to something as simple as a pair of jeans. I made a note to ask Lucas if I could stop at home and pick up some more things, or at least if he would be willing to retrieve some things for me.
“All done!” Dom said, swinging a bag casually as he joined me.
I eyed the sleek container in his hand. “What’s that?”
“Gifts. You’ll get them later,” he said.
“Dom…” I had learned very quickly that Lucas came from a world where there was more money than sense. I’d spent my life carefully saving for the things I wanted but, in his world, money was just something to burn through. The entire house had been decorated as if it belonged in the glossy pages of an interior design magazine. The cars looked like something straight out of a Bond movie and I had not missed the designer labels that came attached to Lucas’s watches, glasses and shirts. I was cautious about what to accept from him as I didn’t want to add to the debt Dad already had.
“Mia, you shouldn’t refuse a gift. It’s bad manners,” he told me as we got back into the car. I could feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I didn’t need gifts, but I didn’t want to argue with Dom.
“Thank you,” I replied him quietly.
We stopped at a busy little bistro for dinner. My hesitancy at whether we would find a spot was ushered away by the server who recognised Dom and soon asked after Lucas. The Foster name carried weight no matter where we were in town.
“Dom?” I asked him, jabbing at the pasta on the plate.
“Mhmm?”
“May I ask you something?”
We were sitting outside in the cool summer breeze and I could see the way Dom’s eyes occasionally scanned the area. He monitored people and movement stealthily and I wondered what could be such an imminent threat that he needed to work this way.
“Sure thing, Mia,” he said, bringing his focus back to me.
“Why… I mean, you don’t seem the type of guy that would work for Lucas Foster,” I said, making a mess of the sentence from the start.
I watched the way Dom swallowed his bite of pizza before wiping the grease from his fingers on a napkin. “You want to know why I’m working for him?”
I nodded my head in response as Dom pinpointed the question I wanted to ask.
“In short,” Dom started, leaning forward and picking up his glass of water. “He was kind to me, Mia. He gave me a job when I needed it most.”
“But you seem so…” I was struggling to find the word, so I tried another angle, “Lucas is so…” That was the second time he had been referred to as kind.
“You sound like Rodrigo,” Dom told me, raising an eyebrow. Dom’s fiancé had his reservations about Lucas as well. “The world isn’t so black and white, Mia. Most of us have done things we aren’t particularly proud of.”
I chewed on my bottom lip and placed down my fork. “Why did you need the job?”
Dom sighed and drank deeply from his glass before he answered me. “I came here after my parents disowned me for being gay. Took all the money I had and left, wanting a fresh start, away from them and the rest of my so-called family. I couldn’t get a job, so I was living on the street. I used to get into a lot of trouble, Mia. Mainly non-sanctioned fights.”
I was surprised to hear that Dom had struggled so much when chasing the American dream, and that he was a fighter. He seemed too polite and gentle to scrap with someone, but there had to be more to him if Lucas had kept him in his arsenal.
He looked up at me, setting down the glass on the table. “Luc found me after a bad fight. The fucker had a knife and I hadn’t seen it. I probably would have died, Mia. Luc could have left me on the street but for whatever reason, he took me to a hospital and then gave me this job. That was years ago now.”
Dom looked like he w
as far off in his past, reliving the moment he had just shared with me. I reached across the table and gently placed a hand over his. “I’m so sorry to hear you had a rough start here.”
“You might not approve of his line of work,” Dom said as he focused on me again. “But Lucas looks after people he cares about. You are one of those people, by the looks of it.”
I felt the blush burning my skin again and rolled my eyes, but Dom may have been more observant than I gave him credit for.
“We barely talk,” I said to him.
“But you can cut the tension with a knife,” Dom replied with a smirk. “Tell me you don’t want a piece of that ass.”
“Dom!” I must have turned a few shades darker.
“You don’t want a bad boy?” he asked me casually.
The type of bad boys I used to crush on were the ones who interrupted class and smelled of cigarette smoke. Lucas was in a completely different league. Lucas wasn’t just bad, he was dangerous.
