Worship (Sinful Series Book 2)

by Trilina Pucci

I walk over to him and stand my ground.

  “Was it my face you pictured when you told her to drop to her knees? To suck you off? Because I didn’t feel a part of that decision, Luca.”

  He dips his face closer to mine. “Do you really believe that of me? Truly?”

  I laugh, crossing my arms.

  “I don’t doubt your love. I’m not scared of what you would do in the name of it, because I already know what you won’t do.” My voice is prodding and spiteful.

  I’m not going to stop pushing him until he sees.

  Luca cracks, yelling, “There isn’t anything I won’t do.”

  His palm smacks against the wall next to me. I blink out of the surprise but not fear.

  He turns and walks away from me, but I follow, grabbing his arm and turning him around. I won’t let him run from me or himself. His face is devastating. He’s so gutted and exposed. I see how much he hates the role he played and how much he wishes he could change it.

  His jaw tenses, the muscles undulating as he walks too close to me, forcing me backward. He tugs at my shirt, bunching it at my stomach and pulling me toward him.

  Luca’s voice is raspy, strained by the emotions he holds at bay.

  “Tell me what to do. I can’t lose you…please, Gretchen.”

  His arms wrap around me and our bodies press together. His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “What can I do?”

  He sounds broken. He pulls me in deeper to his body, and I do the same, unwilling to let him go, desperate for the connection to him. He kisses the top of my head and leans in again.

  “Do you want her life? Because I’ll take it. For you, I would take it.”

  I gasp as my emotions become overwhelming.

  “No,” I cry, pushing him away, but he won’t budge.

  His quieted “shh” fills my ear as he rocks me. But I have to say it.

  “I want the one thing you can’t give me. The thing you won’t give. So, I have to walk away.”

  His hands loosen, and he steps back. My fears are mirrored in his face.

  We’re over. This is done.

  He keeps stepping back, arms open, grinding his jaw because he knows what I’m going to say. I’m going to require his choice.

  “No. No, you don’t get to walk away. Uh-uh.” he states.

  His face is a torrent of rage and sadness.

  Tears blur my eyes, and I grip the front of my shirt.

  “Then give me what I want.”

  Please God, let him say yes. I’ll never survive the loss of Luca King.

  “Say it.” His eyes are locked to mine, his hands fisted.

  “Lose,” I say without hesitation, my chin lifting slightly as I will my body to feel the confidence I should have.

  Luca shakes his head and says, “What the fuck does that mean?” but I can tell he understands completely.

  I take another step back, needing the space to say everything I need.

  “You wouldn’t walk away, put us above everything.”

  He starts to interrupt, but I hold up my hand to stop him. “So, Luca…you want me back? Then you have to lose.”

  I walk to him, grab his face, and pull it to mine. “I don’t want Shelby’s fucking life—I want you to set her free.” His eyes narrow, and he pushes me from him, turning to walk away, but I keep going. “And I want you out.”

  He swings his head back to me, understanding what I mean.

  “I see the way the guys listen to you. They wait for you to direct them, even your brothers. I see the throne being carefully constructed, but my King won’t sit in it because I won’t come second place to anyone, including to the Chicago Mob.” Luca claps his hands together harshly as he paces, clearly pissed at my ultimatums. “You walk away, let everyone else handle it. You’re done, or we’re done.”

  I don’t breathe because I can’t. I know it’s an impossible choice for him, but no more impossible than for him to expect me to forget my worth.

  Luca stares at me, his face unreadable. Then he walks out of my bedroom and straight out of my apartment.

  The door slams, and I feel like it takes all my air with it. I collapse to my knees on the floor, and a silent scream followed by my cries echo through the walls. This was everything I knew it would be.

  I HATE HER.

  Where the fuck did Gretchen ever get the idea that she controlled this shit? No way, baby. She doesn’t possess the power to dictate what I do or the decisions I make. If she loved me, she’d listen and understand what I need, or just do what the fuck she’s told. Goddammit. When the fuck has she ever been that woman? I know better the moment I think it.

  My thoughts bring on more rage, and I punch the wall outside her door, happy with the pain it brings, reminding me that I feel. I hit it again harder, over and over, bringing my fist into the hard surface until I feel a pop and the wetness of the blood begins to cover my knuckles.

  “Hey, man, what the hell?”

  Her stupid neighbor catches my attention as I rear back to take another strike at the concrete. I spin around, taking a step toward him, and grab his throat. Surfer dude’s hands shoot up, batting at my arms while I squeeze. I shouldn’t hurt him—he didn’t do anything to deserve this kind of attention—but he’s here, and I’m unhinged.

  I squeeze a little harder, listening to him sputter and choke.

  “I told you to mind your own fucking business. Don’t check on her. Don’t speak to her. Stay in your fucking apartment. Am I understood?”

  My voice is full of the rage I feel.

  I toss him back in through the door and watch him fall to his back and try and scramble backward a few feet. His hands are up defensively, and there’s fear in his eyes. What am I doing? I’m ready to kill this guy because I fucked up.

  “Fuck!” I yell, stepping back and slamming his door shut.

  My feet carry me down the hall hastily, and I press the button to the elevators, needing to escape. The minute I step inside, I lose it, smacking my hands against the walls. Guttural roars rip from my throat. I barely wait for the doors to open before I all but sprint out of her building.

  The moment I hit the streets, everything inside my body calls for me to turn around and go back inside. I couldn’t wait to escape, but now it’s like I’ve reached the end of my tether and I’m being yanked back. I should go back and beg for her to forgive me, promise her that I will never make any of the same mistakes.

  But she doesn’t need my words; she wants actions I can’t provide. She’ll be better off. Gretchen needs to forget I ever existed.

  I shove my hands into my pockets and begin to walk home.

  Quickly at first and then slower.

  It’ll take me an hour, maybe more, but I walk anyway. The more I walk, the more my mind wanders, each time finding its way back to her. I start reliving all the moments I’m giving away: the smiles I’ll miss from her beautiful face when she gets her way, and the touches I took for granted but will never forget.

  I walk and think about all the ways she made me want to be the man she believes in. She believed so deeply that she asked me to be him today. My fucking heart starts to tear into pieces. She’s right. I’m a fucking coward.

  There’s comfort in knowing what to expect, and in this fucked-up world that I live in, I maneuver the players. I have control.

  But with Gretchen, there isn’t any control. She’s my equal, my queen. I have to be willing to be hurt and disappointed. I have to really live, and I’m too much of a fucking coward to take the risk.

  My eyes drift to the stairs in front of me, and I realize I’ve made it home. I suddenly feel weary. This is a place I wanted to share with her; I’d hoped to move her in. Everything on my terms.

  Jesus, I’m lost. Nothing makes sense without her, and no amount of revenge or violence can fill the deep fucking wounds left from Gretchen being torn from me. It suddenly all feels empty.

  The door opens and Rose is standing in the doorway.

  “Mr. King, are you all ri
ght? Your hand, sir.”

  She looks at my swollen hand as I reach for the railing, the security light on the house acting as a spotlight. You think this is bad, you should see my heart.

  I wave her off.

  “It’s nothing.” I lie as I climb the steps with heavy feet.

  She holds the door open for me as I pass her to enter the house.

  “Where’s Ella?” My question is said without a thought of the time.

  “Sleeping,” she answers.

  Her brow creases with confusion. I shake my head in apology, lifting my hand in retreat, and trudge up the staircase to head to my room.

  As I walk past Ella’s room, I poke my head inside to have a peek and hear her tiny snores. What kind of life am I condemning Ella to by holding on to the comforts of what’s so fucking normalized? There’s that word again.

  Pulling her door shut, I head the rest of the way to my room and open the door. Shelby looks up from where she’s sitting on my bed.

  “Hey.” Her voice is instantly nervous as she scurries off the bed to stand.

  I narrow my eyes, untrusting.

  “What are you doing in here?” I snarl, making my question sound more like an accusation.

  Her face screws up in disgust.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to fuck you. I didn’t think you’d be here, so I was going to sleep in here. It’s more comfortable than the guest bed.”

  My mouth opens to tell her to get the fuck out, but I close it just as fast. I’ve lost my taste for blood. Shelby looks at me, bewildered; she assumed my actions too. I come into the room and shut the door behind me, then walk to a chair by the fireplace and sit. I’m tired, physically and mentally.

  “Let me ask you something.” I pause, allowing her to answer as I take off my shoes.

  Her eyes widen. “Okay,” she answers nervously, fidgeting with her oversized sleep shirt.

  “If I were to let you leave, what would you do? Would you go back to Giovanni?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  If it weren’t for terrible men, this girl wouldn’t have a home. Does she even have hopes or dreams, maybe even a life she wishes for?

  She puts her hands on her hips.

  “What the fuck are you aiming at? You aren’t just going to let me leave.”

  I hear all her disbelief, but then that’s fair. She’s hasn’t known me to be generous or thoughtful as of late.

  I unfasten my cufflinks, setting them on coffee table in front of me, and roll up my sleeves. Relaxing back into the chair, my tired head relaxes back.

  “Say I did. What would you do? Let’s say I offered you a hundred grand and a plane ticket?”

  I pick my head up to look at her and gauge her reaction to the offer. She knows this offer is as real as it gets.

  Shelby’s face grows serious.

  “Why? What would I have to do?” Her voice is filled with skepticism.

  “Leave. And never come back,” I finish, my tone serious, leaving zero room for question.

  My elbow rests on the arm of the leather chair, and I look at her, waiting to hear her interest in the offer.

  “What about our marriage?” she asks, bringing her fingernail to her teeth and pacing.

  “I’ve had papers drawn up since I met Gretchen. Sign and you’re free,” I answer matter-of-factly to her raised brows as she stops to look at me.

  “And Ella?” she questions, looking away. Unbelievable.

  “What about Ella?” My jaw tenses with my irritation.

  “Would I have to see her or…”

  This time, Shelby stops and crosses her arms. She doesn’t even look ashamed that she’s asking. What kind of person feels nothing for someone so innocent?

  “No.” My voice is harsh and as unforgiving as I feel. “She will never know you or that you exist. The minute you sign, you’re dead to her.”

  “Why are you ‘hypothetically’ doing this, Luca?” I see the hope building in her eyes.

  I look down at my hands, deciding to say exactly what I feel.

  “Because I want to stop punishing you and myself. But mostly, because I love Gretchen more than I hate you.”

  Two hours later, Shelby is packed, and I’ve woken a banker to arrange a transfer to her account; it’ll pay out the moment she boards the plane.

  Shelby has ten grand in cash, opting only to take whatever clothes would fit in four Louis Vuitton suitcases. We stand in front of the desk in my office, and I watch her sign her name on the divorce documents and the papers that take all her parental rights away.

  She sweeps her arm up with the flourish of a pardoned inmate, celebratory and anxious. Shelby turns and looks at me, the happiness she feels vibrating off her. It makes me hate her that much more. But that doesn’t deter me from my goal.

  “Thank you, Luca.”

  Her gratitude makes me want to hurt her.

  “Don’t thank me. Setting you free doesn’t mean I forgive you. You will always mean nothing to me and even less because of your disregard for my daughter. Thank Gretchen. She’s the only one in this mess who has a heart. I hope you rot in hell.”

  Shelby’s eyes widen, and she stands straighter as I lean in close to her face.

  “Get the fuck out of my house, my city, my state. If I see you, I’ll make you pay with the only thing you truly love: your life.”

  She doesn’t speak.

  She hauls two small duffels over her shoulders and picks up her suitcases, turning to the door. I watch her leave and inhale a deep breath, closing my eyes on the exhale.

  It’s after midnight, and I’m fucking wiped out, but I want Gretchen to know. She has to know I’m trying. I can’t leave her the way I did when I walked out. Reaching into my pocket, I pull my phone and dial Gretchen. It goes straight to voicemail.

  I broke her today, but I’ll spend my life trying to rebuild her. We don’t end like this. It may be the only piece of this puzzle I can control.

  I walk to the living room and sit down on the couch, resting my head back. My eyes close, heavy from their need for sleep.

  “Luca, Luca.” My body jerks from being shoved. “Luca!”

  My head pops up, and I blink my eyes open. I must have dozed off.

  “I’m up. Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep for a minute.” My voice is groggy as I rub my face.

  “It’s 10:00 a.m., Luca,” George laughs, smacking my shoulder and jostling me up.

  “Jesus. I can’t remember the last time I slept in that long.” My mouth opens to a yawn, and I stretch. “Shit, I needed to be at the office today. Ella and Rose here?”

  I pat my pockets and look around for my phone to call my assistant.

  George shakes his head.

  “Yeah, but Dom called, said he’s got it today and to handle your shit. Said to tell you that Gretchen didn’t go to work today. And also, not to be a pussy.”

  A smile breaks across my face. Dom’s never one for tact. “George”—I put both hands on his shoulders—“I’m going to need some boxes. Think you can make that happen?”

  “I’m on it.” He smiles.

  “This is either singlehandedly the dumbest effing thing I’ve ever done, or Daddy’s a genius,” I say in a singsongy voice.

  Ella’s little arms wrap around my neck, and I squeeze her tight, holding her with one arm as I raise my other to knock on the door in front of me.

  My heart races. I’m in new territory, completely out of my element, but this is the only answer I knew to give her. I’m scared to death it won’t be the right one. The lock clicks and Gretchen’s face comes into view.

  Her eyes immediately take in the scene in front of her, confused and surprised.

  “What are you doing here, Luca?”

  “I’m standing with luggage, holding Ella, with my heart in my throat, Angel.”

  I take a deep breath, exhaling all the words.

  “I’ve loved you since we met. I know that now. That time I sat outside your door and listened to you cry, I knew then I
would marry you. And the night you made dinner and held Ella, making her laugh, that’s when I knew that one day, I would put babies in your belly and raise a family with you.”

  Her eyes glisten, but she doesn’t cry.

  “You’re always so strong.” My voice is gentle as I bring my hand to her face to wipe a tear that’s escaped. “But you don’t have to be. Because you aren’t alone anymore. Today was when I knew that no matter what you ask of me, I can give it to you because I love you that much. I’m sorry I was a fucking coward. I’m sorry I made you wait. I just wasn’t sure I could do it. But every time I thought about the alternative, I realized I didn’t have a choice. I can’t live my life without you, Angel.”

  “What are you saying exactly?” Her voice is hesitant.

  “I cleaned up my mess—well, cleaning. It’s a process, but I’m walking away, Angel, because there is absolutely nothing that I love more than my girls.”

  I look down at Ella and back to Gretchen.

  “You pushed me hard yesterday, made me see my life without you. And it’s bleak. I want to be the man I see in your eyes, every time you look at me. Let me be that man for you.”

  I take a step forward, but Gretchen steps back. I’ve hurt her badly.

  Gretchen doesn’t say anything as Ella reaches out for her. She takes Ella’s tiny hand in hers, stepping in closer to kiss it, and I lock eyes with her.

  “I don’t expect you to come to me, bend for me, or make any concessions. I’m coming to you, baby…we’re coming to you. We want you to take us, baggage and all.”

  Her eyes soften at my words. She understands I’m giving up control.

  She nods, chewing the inside of her cheek, trying to hold her emotions at bay. I take the hand she has joined to Ella’s and kiss them both.

  “Will you have us? Will you keep us?”

  Gretchen reaches up and touches my cheek.

  “You broke my heart. Twice,” she whispers.

  “Forgive me?” I ask, hopeful. “Forgive me, and I’ll spend my life worshipping you.”

  Her eyes close, and I bring my forehead down to hers.

  “Maybe…” She smiles out.

  My own smile tugs at my lips, and I look up, forcing her to do the same.