Worship (Sinful Series Book 2)

by Trilina Pucci

  Worship

  The Sinful Series, Book Two

  2019 © Trilina Pucci LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including by photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written permission from the author, except for inclusions or brief quotations in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Designer—Steamy Designs, Steamydesigns.net

  Formatter—Champagne Book Design

  Editor—One Love Editing and Gray Ink Online

  Proofreader—All Encompassing Books

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Part Two

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  “I frutti proibiti sono i piu dolci.”

  “Forbidden fruit is sweetest.”—Italian proverb.

  Present Day

  “THAT’S SO FUNNY, MICHAEL, YOU’RE hilarious,” my friend Blair laughs. “I can’t believe Gretchen has kept you hidden for so long.”

  I smile politely at the meaningless joke, but I don’t want to laugh along. I should be happy. Why aren’t I happy?

  I know why.

  But the voice in my head is so loud that I’m scared everyone will hear it. I’m a terrible, awful fucking person.

  I’m here at a party to celebrate the pregnancy of my very best friend, Drew Matthews and her soul mate, Dominic King. But all I can think about is that night. The one that makes me unable to catch my breath with him being in the same room.

  “You must be her dirty little secret.”

  My spine stiffens at the sound of his voice.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Gretchen.” Luca’s hand moves to the small of my back as he leans in to kiss my cheek, sending heat through my body. “You remember my wife, Shelby.”

  He motions to her, and she smiles coldly with narrowed eyes on me, or maybe that’s my conscience.

  I nod hello, knowing all too well who she is. I hate her, and for no other reason than my own disgusting jealousy.

  Nobody sets out to be a person like I’ve become: envious, angry, petty. No, this is what Luca King does to you. He’s made me into this messy woman who wants what she can’t have. Strike that—I can have it, but I won’t take it because of the consequence. The fallout is too much to bear for any person with a heart.

  I have a heart. He doesn’t.

  Six Months Ago

  “YOU LOOK GOOD FOR A guy that just got the shit beat out of him a month ago. Too bad they couldn’t have focused on your face, ya know, to give you a reason to get it fixed,” Antonio announces, walking through the doorway to where I’m seated outside. I smile at his arrival.

  “Fuck you.”

  I laugh, knowing we’re all relieved that my attack didn’t actually kill me. “You’re never going to be as pretty, so let it go.” I pat the side of his face roughly.

  The guys I’ve known my whole life file out to the patio, giving me half hugs and pats on the back. My brothers, Dominic, my twin, and Dante, our older brother, set up this dinner to celebrate my recovery.

  It’s also just a reason for us all to be a little crude, drink too much, and smoke cigars. But I’m more than happy to be sitting at this table because it was touch and go there for a minute.

  “You hear the guys that did this to Luca didn’t even make it out of county? Apparently they all got caught up in some bad shit in a holding cell.” Vin smirks.

  He’s better known as Vincenzo Gambino, son to the second-in-charge of the Chicago outfit. He’s family and a dangerous fucking guy.

  I shrug, uncaring, looking to Dominic, whose demeanor matches mine.

  “It’s a shame though—they seemed so willing to confess their sins and seek redemption when Dante and I spoke with them that night.” Dom’s laugh is dark as he exchanges a knowing look to Dante.

  Dante nods and hands me a tumbler full of amber liquid, raising his beer in the air.

  “To this pussy—if he didn’t get his ass kicked, we wouldn’t have found our way back to family. To family.”

  I raise my glass to the choir of cheers, and drink.

  He’s right: a month ago I was attacked and left for dead in the gutter outside of an exclusive sex club we own named Church. That kind of violence may be traumatizing, but for us—the men at this table—it’s a reality we’ve come to accept.

  Despite the fact that my brother and I have built a successful real estate empire, owning half of Chicago and more properties worldwide, we grew up in this bloody life. Dominic and I came in late, at fifteen, but it was always obvious to me that power is a commodity that can be traded. Secrets are more important than cash, and nobody, not even Dom, knew how well acquainted I became with them.

  I’ve always maintained one foot in and the other out because what the others never seem to understand is real power comes from being able to control all the pieces and the players. We may not be head of this family—that sin falls to our uncle Giovanni Sovrano—but I control Giovanni.

  His secrets have been mine since I was fifteen. That year, I lost more than just my parents. I lost all respect for the man that was my last link to my family name, and I lost my resolve to turn my back on the mafia I was born into.

  I slap the table a few times to regain order and everyone quiets down again.

  “One more toast. To my brother Dominic—per cento anni,” For one hundred years.

  My toast is for his new marriage to Drew, a woman who managed to nab my brother’s heart in one helluva one-night stand. They’re perfect for each another. I envy him.

  “Hear, hear,” everyone chimes in, yelling and clinking glasses to toast Dominic.

  I take a swig of my bourbon to swallow my guilt for my shitty jealousy. But I want that kind of security in a woman. To know I’ve met my match and be able to fucking worship her. I’d hoped once…but like most things in life, I was handed a lie.

  I shake the thought and blink a few times to rejoin the chatter around me.

  “And if it doesn’t work out, send her my way. That woman is too good for you!” Matteo yells over the ruckus, only to get the back of his head smacked by Nico, who’s close
st.

  He grimaces and gives Nico a look but doesn’t push back. I laugh at his false bravado. That’s Matteo for you: a party prince and son to Frank Prozzi, king of nightlife and ear to my uncle. Matteo hates his father almost as much as I hate my uncle.

  “Speaking of Drew,” Dante, my oldest brother interrupts, “where’s the better half, Dom?”

  “Out with friends, doing some spa, girly thing. Gretchen came by earlier to steal her, some shit about a makeup bachelorette. I think they just want to keep celebrating my girl.”

  I warm, only on the inside, at the mention of her name. Pretending not to give two shits about her when I see her is quickly becoming more and more difficult. Gretchen has a pull—it’s ridiculous, but anytime I’m around that fucking woman, I find myself next to her, orbiting. It doesn’t help that she has long caramel legs and an ass I want to bite.

  But it’s her eyes. Her emerald green eyes, framed by her straight, jet-black hair, that makes me want to see myself through them.

  I stand to make my way to the bar with my glass even though it’s full.

  “You remember Gretchen, right, Luca?” Dom asks innocently. “Wasn’t she there when Drew thought you were me?”

  “Oh shit, it’s like high school all over again.” Antonio laughs loudly. “The twin thing came in real handy until the girls figured out who was who,” he barks, patting Dom’s back.

  “Yeah, well, that shit happened again. Drew rolled up to the restaurant downtown and saw Luca with Shelby and Ella and tore him a new one, thinking he was me.” He’s laughing loudly with the others, sipping his drink and enjoying the story. “Tell them! Tell them what happened,” he coaxes.

  “I barely remember,” I say nonchalantly. “You tell it better anyway. I’ll be right back.”

  I walk inside the house and into a hall between the kitchen and dining room where the pantry and bar are located. Gulping my drink down, I crack my neck, trying to forget old memories.

  I remember Drew yelling at me and feeling embarrassed that she got the wrong twin. And I definitely remember Gretchen. She was impossible to ignore. The girl is fucking gorgeous and has a body made for sin, but it’s her badass attitude that made me sit up and pay attention.

  That attention was what got me into trouble later. She’d handed me her card and said to call her so we could give our people the nudge they needed to get together. Women give me their numbers all the time, sometimes with Shelby next to me, but this is the first time I kept one. The first time I’d wished I could call.

  “Take my card—we should help each other out and get our two dummies back together.” Her smile is as sneaky as her words, and I immediately like her.

  I pluck the card from her fingers as she turns to walk away, not waiting for my answer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gretchen Andrews.”

  “I get that a lot.” She doesn’t even slow as she sashays away.

  “Don’t you want to hear my answer?” This woman is refreshing.

  She stops her sexy-as-fuck retreat and looks over her shoulder. “It wasn’t a question, Luca.”

  I shake my head to rid myself of my thoughts because ever since I met Gretchen Andrews, I haven’t stopped picturing her naked beneath me. And that’s a problem for a married man. Even one with a marriage that’s full of shit.

  A marriage Gretchen knows is full of shit because, for whatever reason, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut last week at the wedding celebration. I grab the bourbon and pour myself another glass. Keep your shit together, Luca.

  Dante appears in the doorway, swigging his beer and staring at me. That stare that both he and Dom give when they call me out on my bullshit. I expect it from Dominic because we’re twins. It’s irritating when Dante does it.

  “What?” I snap at him.

  “Me what? You what?” He jabs, accepting the cold beer I hand him, in replacement of his empty one.

  “Give me a break, Dante.”

  “When are you going to stop pretending that you aren’t fucking miserable?” Here we go. He’s been on my ass since the hospital.

  “Tomorrow,” I deadpan. “Today’s for Dom.” He can’t actually think I would have a heart-to-heart in the fucking pantry about my failing marriage.

  “Luca. She called the fucking lawyer the minute she thought you were dying.” He stabs his finger into my chest. It makes me want to break it. I stifle the urge to as he does it again. “Wake up.”

  I push his hand away with enough force to cause him to pay more attention.

  “Are you going to continue with facts I already know because allow me to share one you seem to have overlooked. She’s the mother of my fucking child.”

  “I’m not saying you didn’t do right by her marrying her when she got pregnant. But you don’t have to give up your whole life, Luca.”

  “Leave it, Dante. I’ll deal with my shit…worry about your own.” My voice is dismissive.

  He grabs my arm, and the pity in his eyes makes me angrier, as does his persistence. “And if I know you, Luca…you can’t make her pay forever because she’s hurt you.”

  “Who said forever?” I smirk, letting the coldness of my statement wash over. “I’m not the villain, I just do it better.”

  I look down to his hand on my arm and he drops it.

  “Luca.”

  “I’m done with the conversation. Move or I’ll move you.” I don’t want to fight with my brother, but caged animals do unpredictable things.

  He lifts his arms in retreat and moves aside, making room for me to leave and get back to the party. I stop a few feet past him, but I don’t look back. I feel remorseful for being so dismissive to Dante. I know he just wants to form a relationship with me since we only just found out about each other a month ago. Another fucked-up gift from my uncle.

  “I know you’re new to this brother thing, but you’re doing great.” I walk away hoping he understands why I can’t do this shit right now.

  My brothers suffer from two annoying traits: they love me, and they are perceptive as fuck. But the hate I feel toward my wife won’t be extinguished by their words and good intentions.

  She’s going to pay for the role she so desperately wanted until she can’t do it anymore. Then she’ll walk away with nothing.

  Not even her daughter.

  “DEAR GOD, THAT FELT GOOD. Better than sex,” Blair says, thanking her masseuse, a beautiful, tan, six-foot beast with very white teeth and a man bun. “There’s no way that man is straight. He’s so pretty.” She adds, far too loudly as he walks away.

  “Blair!” Lyla chastises, swatting at her while I laugh as we all walk into the women’s sauna.

  “This is heaven,” Drew says, taking a seat on the wood bench, steam surrounding us. “Perfect idea.” Her head drops back.

  I sit next to her, breathing in the heat.

  “Who thought of it again? Oh yes, your best friend.” I smirk, and Blair flips me the bird. Lyla throws her hand towel at me and I giggle. “It had to be said. I don’t want you bitches getting any ideas about the hierarchy.”

  Drew purses her lips and shakes her head at my shrug.

  “Regardless. I’m just really happy that you guys wanted to celebrate this with me. I know it was unexpected and unconventional.”

  We all laugh.

  “But I couldn’t be happier. So, thank you.” Drew smiles to all of us.

  “We love you, D, and I think it goes without saying that we’re happy you found Dominic King.” I smile at my best friend, a tiny bit happy the room is dark because I worry it won’t meet my eyes.

  I don’t begrudge her any happiness, but it stings when it’s never you. The girl goes to a sex club and meets the man of her dreams. I date endlessly and manage to find a bunch of men I would rather have date other people.

  This feeling will pass, it always does, because my envy isn’t about my friend, it’s about wishing I had my own ‘someone’. But a part of me is starting to think that holding out for something mind-blowing is a waste
of time.

  Maybe I need to shorten the expectations list, even though I already have. Soon it will just be Male, Employed. Then again, I make enough to be a sugar mama.

  My attention returns to the group and Lyla telling us all about her latest conquest or fail from last night.

  “You guys, he asked to kiss me. It was too sweet. Not for me.”

  Lyla is younger than the rest of us, but as Blair’s little sister, we all feel free to tell her all about what she should do.

  “Next,” I call out.

  “Agreed,” Blair chimes in.

  “Sweet can be nice,” Drew argues, and we all swing our collective heads in her direction.

  “Tell us more about how sweet Dominic King is…because from my view, that’s not how I would describe him.” I laugh and she shushes me.

  “I’m bummed we didn’t get to meet him tonight. I’m dying to see what he looks like!” Blair complains. She’s been in Spain closing a deal for the company we all work for, the Cohen Management Team.

  Drew was promoted to Vice President of Branding and Marketing this year, and in true badass chick form made sure to bring the ones she loved with her. I took on the Director of Marketing position, and Blair has the coveted Director of Sales. It’s coveted because she basically travels the world on someone else’s dime. But it’s perfect for her, and for Lyla who gets the task of being her assistant.

  “You’ve seen what he looks like. When we stopped to pick up Drew today, you saw Luca,” Lyla says as if Blair is stupid, and Drew nods in agreement.

  Now I’m really happy for dim lighting because my cheeks are on fire. I barely saw him today. When I breezed into Drew’s house, he was standing on the back patio, unloading bags of groceries for tonight’s party.

  I almost exploded in my spot, staring at the way his T-shirt moved over his rippling back muscles. And the way his dark brown hair weaved between the fingers he ran them through made my mouth dry. He’s six foot three of all man.

  When he looked over his shoulder, I knew I’d been caught but tried to play it off because how pathetic can I be? He’s married. That’s about as unavailable as it gets. But I swear every time he’s around I can’t help it if my eyes seek him out.