by Alexx Andria
When she said to me in a small voice tinged with happy exhaustion, “I’m starving,” all I could do was hold her in my arms with a grateful chuckle, feeling as if I’d just been given the secret to eternal happiness—a redhead with a voracious appetite.
My woman wanted food. Damn straight that was what she was going to get.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Katherine
I WAS FALLING AGAIN. Maybe I’d overestimated the depth of my disdain for anything associated with the Donato family. My own arrogance had led my heart to betray me.
I’d been so adamant that I would never be that stupid girl who begged and scraped for Luca’s affection when he grew tired of me. I wasn’t so naive as to believe that his interest would never wane.
Rich men were accustomed to having whatever they wanted at the snap of a finger, so when someone didn’t fall at their feet, it was the challenge of the chase that interested them, not the actual person.
I’d seen it a million times. The chase was fun, the catch boring.
But Luca’s game face was pretty convincing. Even if the small voice in my head kept whispering that it was all a lie, my body insisted what was happening was real.
That shattered part of myself was finally coming back together, puzzle pieces sliding together as if drawn by magnets. I would never forget how this moment felt—no matter if I died an old woman surrounded by cats or if a crosstown bus mowed me down tomorrow.
This was classic addiction behavior, and Luca was either the drug or the dealer—maybe both.
I was better than this. Stronger.
Maybe if I kept telling myself that, I would believe it.
I was losing my mind.
“What if I said I never want to leave this room?” I murmured, no longer in control of what flew from my mouth. I glanced at him quickly to gauge his reaction. I wasn’t disappointed.
“I would say that I felt the same way.”
The intense truth in his blue-eyed gaze struck me to the core, and I melted fresh.
Damn the Donato charm—it was their gift when they chose to use it. Dangerous if you didn’t arm yourself against it.
Even sweet Nico, one of my oldest friends, had broken so many hearts it should be a crime.
But safe in this bubble with Luca, I could savor this moment for the simple pleasure that it was.
I could just wrap my legs around him and be in this moment and nowhere else.
“A quiet woman is a thinking woman,” Luca said, regarding me with a subtle smile. “Should I be worried?”
I chuckled, but he was right. My thoughts were racing. I closed my arms around him, snuggling close. I was still going to walk away, but I wanted to savor the way it felt when he touched me, the way my skin ignited, the way my nerve endings came alive—the way my heart stopped in exquisite agony.
We fit together so perfectly, so poetically. I wanted to find someone else who touched me the way Luca did, but I knew I wouldn’t.
My previous relationships had all lacked substance and I’d been eager and ready to let them go when the time came, because Luca had always managed to occupy space in my heart, no matter how many times I’d tried to oust him.
“Has the world landed on your shoulders?” Luca asked as he rose to grab a handful of green grapes from a decorative bowl on the marble-topped entry table. He popped a grape into his mouth, offering me one. I chewed slowly, holding his gaze.
Luca knew me so well—my subtle nuances, the things that I wanted to hide.
“I know enough to admit that what we have isn’t normal, that our situation was never normal and never would be. What if what I want is something more mundane than what you could give me?”
“Clarify.”
Was I ready to jump into the deep end of the pool? I supposed I owed Luca some sort of explanation, some kind of closure. I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, gaining strength before beginning. “Luca, I don’t see myself raising my kids in an environment where extreme wealth is the norm. I want my kids to have a normal life, the life I wasn’t given. Now, before you get all pissy because you think I’m judging you for something you couldn’t control, just listen to me. I want a normal life for my children, and I don’t think you’d recognize normal if it had a sticker on its forehead.”
“I’d say normal is subjective,” he countered, his gaze narrowing just enough to give away his irritation.
“Did you know that I put myself on a reasonable budget when I was in college? Even though I had access to a trust fund and I could’ve lived large just like everyone else in our fucked-up little circles, I didn’t want to. I wanted to live like a normal student. I learned a lot about life that I was oblivious to before that decision. I had the opportunity to meet people who struggled and yet still managed to make a difference in other people’s lives. It made me realize that some challenges were a blessing, and I know you will never understand that concept.”
“Good grief, Katherine, don’t try to sell a romanticized version of strife to me. Everyone has obstacles, no matter the size of their pocketbook. Your point is both shallow and naive.”
I blinked back the sudden hot tears that threatened. Why did his opinion still have the power to cut me off at the knees? Lifting my chin, I continued, undeterred, “Your elitist attitude only proves my point further. Struggle has never been part of your vocabulary, and I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’m just saying that I don’t want to raise my kids in that environment. And let’s be real, Luca, there’s no way that you would be willing to live in a modest home instead of a palatial compound that displays your wealth to the entire world just so that your children could live in a way that is relatable to ninety-nine percent of the world.”
A wry, almost patronizing smirk toyed with the corners of his mouth as he reminded me, “I backpacked across Europe with nothing more than what I could carry. I’ve seen plenty of struggle, and I also know there’s little to romanticize about it.”
“At any given moment, you could’ve had money wired to you,” I refuted, shaking my head. “Not the same. That was just more Donato playtime. You always knew that you could pick up the phone and have a private jet drop out of the sky to pick you up and change whatever situation was happening at the moment. There was no danger, no threat to your well-being. You will never know what it means to have to reach down inside you and pull out grit and raw determination to survive.”
“Neither do you.”
I stared, momentarily quiet before conceding his point. “Perhaps you’re right. I walked away from wealth, but I knew it was always available. I knew that I could access a bank account and get what I needed. I chose not to touch the trust so I could learn how to stick to a budget, and there were times I had nothing but ramen noodles to eat for days because they were the cheapest food I could find and still pay my rent. That’s what I’m talking about.”
I seemed to have hit a nerve.
“Katherine,” he said, his clipped tone accentuating each consonant, “I am trying to drag a company that is mired in the past into the twenty-first century so we can evolve. I’m fighting my own father to let loose of the reins so I can make things happen, but the son of a bitch is tenacious as fuck. I don’t want my kids used as bartering chips like you and I were. For fuck’s sake, I want my kids to know what it’s like to simply fall in love with whomever they choose, but I can’t do that. Not until I have some control—which my father refuses to relinquish—and the freedom to refashion our business into something we can all be proud of. Dante is breathing down my neck, and my father gets some sick pleasure from threatening to make Dante his heir. So I have to bide my time walking the line between forward progress and whatever my father wants, and chasing after you hasn’t helped matters. So, yeah, I know struggle, even if I’ve never had to pick between eating a meal and paying rent.”
His impassioned response was mor
e than I’d expected. He so rarely talked about his stresses, I guess I’d convinced myself he didn’t have any. I couldn’t wrap my head around the possibility that Luca felt the same way as I did—that he wanted something more for his kids.
God, at one point I’d dreamed of our babies. I’d dreamed of what it would be like to look into the eyes of my child and see Luca staring back at me. I held back the tears that threatened to betray the depth of my yearning.
“Luca, I hate all of the circles you run with. Most of those people are assholes and entitled bitches. I can’t deal with that lifestyle. I want a small house that I can clean myself. I want to do laundry and make dinner. I want to have a career and take care of my own children. When I go on vacation with my family, I want to pile into a minivan and go on a road trip, not some crazy ostentatious private island bullshit. My kids will not attend private school, and they will understand that whatever they want in life they have to work for. Does that sound anything like something you could provide?”
Luca blew out a heavy breath with a defeated shake of his head. “Katherine, what do you want me to say? We were born into wealthy, well-connected families, and nothing can change that. I want to give my kids the best I can provide them with. I don’t want them to want for anything. Fine, we’ll buy a fucking house in the ghetto someplace so we can raise our kids next to drug dealers and prostitutes.”
“That’s the point. I don’t want them to have everything given to them. Struggle isn’t always bad.”
Luca shook his head. “I don’t see how struggling is good for anyone, least of all kids.”
This was going nowhere. “Forget it, Luca. You and I are just too different...and we want different things.”
I wanted to get dressed and leave, but Luca wasn’t finished.
“Hold up,” he said firmly when I moved to shimmy into my panties. “You’re not going to withdraw because you’re afraid of taking a chance on seeing something different that goes against what you think you know. You have to give people a chance in order to determine whether or not they’re capable of reaching your expectations.”
I ignored his pointed look and grabbed the discarded bustier, crumpled on the floor. “Life lessons aren’t exactly in your wheelhouse, Luca. You should stick to what you know. Go acquire some failing corporation and tear it to pieces for scrap. Leave the heavy lifting to those who are qualified.”
My barb glanced off without the desired effect. Luca’s lip curled with disappointment. “I never realized how cowardly you truly are until this moment.”
“Excuse me?”
“You are more willing to run from the possibility of happiness because it challenges some twisted belief you’ve got locked in your head than take a chance and face the unknown. That’s chickenshit.”
“Don’t tell me what I am,” I fired back. “You don’t have that right. You broke my heart. You are the one who ruined everything. Don’t sit there and condescend to me that I’m not the one willing to give people chances, because that’s not true. I gave you everything that was mine to give and I loved you, Luca, and you cheated on me!”
Crap! I bounded away from him, jerking on the ridiculous lingerie I’d worn into Malvagio. I felt more vulnerable and exposed than being completely nude. I didn’t want Luca knowing that my feelings for him went deeper than I was willing to admit.
“I want to go home,” I said, tears crowding my eyes. A mental breakdown felt imminent, or at the very least an ugly sobfest. Emotions, both good and bad, crashed into me like snowballs from every direction. “Luca, now!”
At the near-hysterical note in my voice, Luca sprang from the bed and pulled me into his arms. I wanted to push him away, but my arms had no strength. All I could do was allow him to fold me into his embrace and hold me so tight that all the broken pieces inside me had to knit back together, even as I struggled to keep them apart.
No, I wasn’t ready to love him again. I wasn’t ready to give him exactly what he wanted. He could not win!
Finding my strength, I pushed against him. “Stop. I want to go home.”
Luca let me go. “Home? And where is home? You have no home here in California. You left without any solid plans. You’re so goddamn hotheaded you didn’t think this through.”
Luca stalked away from me, striding naked to the bathroom. The slamming door echoed behind him. Alone in the room, I let the tears fall. He was right.
I was scared. I was hotheaded. I was reactionary.
And in that moment I felt like I’d gotten everything wrong—which I hated even more.
How could he possibly turn the argument around so that I was the one who felt terrible? As if I’d based my opinions on fake news and gossip.
There was nothing fake about the ache in my heart. The memory of seeing that woman perched on my boyfriend’s lap, immortalized in print for everyone to gawk at, was still very clear in my mind.
I could almost look back and say, You know what, we were both young and stupid. But that did nothing to ease the pain and the suffering I went through after he broke me!
I was damaged because of him, and it was hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that the person who had damaged me the most was the one I still wanted.
Luca reappeared, a specimen of male perfection even as every muscle was rigid and taut with anger. No matter what, he still had the power to take my breath away. I supposed I could add that to the stack of crosses I had to bear when it came to Luca.
Seemed fitting, because the truth was pretty brutal.
No matter how far I ran, I would never escape the fact that Luca would always be in my heart.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luca
THE RETURN RIDE to the hotel was silent. I’d lost all the ground I’d gained, and I was kicking myself for playing my hand too soon.
I could practically feel Katherine vibrating with anger and hurt, too many memories from the past standing between us.
If I tried to explain, it would come off as justifications, and that was the last thing she wanted to hear right now.
I wasn’t going to grovel over an incident that was so fucking stupid it was practically a nonissue. I hadn’t cheated on Katherine—I’d never even kissed that woman—but appearances were everything, and she’d been on my lap, topless.
What Katherine didn’t know was that immediately after the paparazzi took the picture, I removed the drunken starlet from my lap and went to unload the tequila I’d downed as I’d puked my guts out.
I’d tried to tell Katherine, but when she hadn’t believed me, I hadn’t tried very hard to fix the misunderstanding. Like I said, I’d been shamefully relieved.
Maybe I’d wanted to be free for a time before getting married.
Maybe subconsciously I’d wanted Katherine to experience more of life before tying herself to me for the rest of her life.
Hell, I could spend hours coming up with a dozen different scenarios that might justify why I hadn’t just tried a little bit harder to clear the air and heal the hurt.
But at the end of the day, my silence had been the loudest.
I half expected her to take a stand and demand that I take the pullout sofa in the living room of the suite rather than the sumptuous luxury king, but she didn’t, even if her glance did flick to the sofa before she trudged to the bedroom.
I supposed that was a good sign, right? Better not count your blessings just yet.
“Are we going to talk about this?” I ventured, removing my shirt and tossing it, peeling myself from the leather pants with equal disregard for where they ended up.
“Nope,” she answered, disappearing behind the bathroom door with her nightclothes. I much preferred her naked, but the chances of that happening were slim to none.
I sighed and removed my watch, setting it on the nightstand, and climbed into the bed. Katherine reappeared a few mome
nts later, her face scrubbed, her hair tied up in a bun. If she thought she was going to deter me by going with the schoolmarm look, she was sadly mistaken.
What my future bride didn’t realize was that she could be wearing a paper sack and I’d still find her the sexiest creature alive. Even if she wasn’t the friendliest at the moment.
“Kath—”
“I’m tired.”
I shut my mouth. Nothing was going to happen tonight. Tomorrow would be about damage control.
I had a plan. All I had to do was follow through and see it done. My eyes drifted shut, and I found sleep relatively quickly.
So quickly, in fact, that morning came within a blink.
I awoke to an empty bed, alarm chasing the sleep from my brain. Bounding from the bed, I called out for Katherine, only to find her at the table, sipping her tea and reading the delivered newspaper, fully dressed as if she’d risen hours before me.
The little vixen hadn’t wanted to leave anything to chance. She’d known if given a shot I would find a way to make love to her again, and this was her way of thwarting me.
Well, I wasn’t so easily deterred. “I never took you for an early bird. What happened to the girl who said she was a night owl?”
“She grew up.”
A short and sweet answer delivered with a perfunctory and bland smile.
“Good,” I said, surprising her when I didn’t engage as she’d hoped. “I have big plans for today.”
“As do I, seeing as it’s my turn to pick our activities,” she said with another smile, only this time there was an edge to the corners. “Today, we are going to volunteer at a local soup kitchen.”
No, today we were going to Sonoma County. “Yes, technically, it is your day,” I conceded, rubbing my chin at the dilemma. “I guess I overestimated how much you would enjoy spending the day at Coppola’s winery... We had so much fun last night at Cafe Zoetrope that I got ahead of myself and booked a private tour. But I can cancel. Volunteering at a soup kitchen sounds equally fun.”
