RUTHLESS KING

28 A SUCKER FOR PUNISHMENT

Luca
Cazzo, what the fuck is Dante doing here with Mamma?
I glance over at Stella, her wet tank top sticking to her skin and
revealing perfectly erect nipples. Dante’s gaze locks on her chest, and I roll
my fingers into tight fists to keep from clawing his eyes out. A growl of
frustration rumbles out, and I step in front of her, blocking her translucent
shirt from his roving gaze.
“I thought that was your bike parked out front.” Dante’s smile is
predatory. Like he’s caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. A few
minutes earlier and he would’ve caught my fingers in a much more
dangerous place.
Mamma on the other hand is smiling so wide I’m afraid she’ll split her
cheeks. “Luca, che bella sorpresa.” Nice surprise, my ass. My conniving
brother probably brought our mother here on purpose. “Who is this
beautiful woman?”
Stella’s cheeks flame an enticing pink, and I’m thankful for the icy
water dousing my hard-ass erection.
“Mamma, this is Stella Esposito,” I finally reply. I can see Ma itching to hug her, and again, I’m grateful we’re still waist-
deep in water. Introducing Stella as my girlfriend at a public event is one
thing, but to my mother? The last thing I want to do is get her hopes up.
“Esposito?” I can almost see her ears perk up. Stella’s grandfather was a
legend in our circles. Papà and I even worked for him for a time. Luckily,
Ma had no idea about any of it. She also knew nothing about Vinny
McKenzie, my old best friend, being an Esposito. Their mom had always
wanted to keep them safe from our world. Until he wasn’t … because of
me.
“Yes, Michele was my nonno,” Stella answers, interrupting my spiraling
thoughts. “Piacere di conoscerla, Signora Valentino.” She steps out of the
water, and my brother’s gaze immediately latches onto her see-through top.
“Dante,” I growl. “Se la guardi così un’altra volta, ti ammazzo.” And I
would. I would fucking kill him if he kept looking at her like she’s a slab of
meat.
“Luca!” Mamma scolds. Though her tone is reprimanding, a faint smile
flashes across her face. She knows me well; well enough to notice my
insane reaction over Stella. She probably hasn’t seen it since I was a sappy
teenager in love.
Damned Dante for bringing Mamma into this fucked-up situation.
I climb onto the dock and trail Stella toward the remains of our picnic.
Digging through the basket, I pull out a towel and wrap it around her.
Mamma’s curious gaze watches every move. “Why don’t you come to
my house to change?”
“No, grazie, Mamma, we’ll be just fine.”
“But where will Stella get dressed? She can’t take off her clothes in the
middle of the woods? What kind of gentleman would allow that?”
A faint smile curls Stella’s lips as she regards me from the corner of her
eye. She’s not the only woman in my life I can’t refuse. “Yeah, fratellino, why don’t you bring Stella to Ma’s house?” Dante
sneers as I tug my wet shirt over my head. “You know how much she loves
showing your baby pictures.”
Stella laughs and tosses me a look over her shoulder. “Baby pictures?”
“There will be no baby pictures,” I growl.
“But you were such a cute little bambino.” Fucking Dante.
“Vieni, Stella.” Mamma takes her hand, towing her free of my hold.
“You come in the car with me. We can’t let you catch a cold in those wet
clothes. Besides, we have a lot to catch up on, bella.”
I glare at my brother as Mamma ushers Stella toward the Mercedes
SUV I bought for her birthday last year. As soon as they’re far enough
away, I wrap my hand around my brother’s arm and whirl him around. “Che
cazzo fai?”
“I’m not doing anything, Luca. I told you, Ma and I were out for a
drive, and we just happened to see your motorcycle. I never thought I’d find
you with her again.” He jabs his thick finger into my chest. “I guess you
didn’t fuck her, did you?”
I shake my head, and I don’t even know why I’m dignifying him with a
response.
“You never listen to me. Get that girl out of your system. There’s
something not right ….”
“I don’t need advice from you, Dante,” I hiss and slap his finger off.
“Not in my business and certainly not in my love life.”
His eyes taper at the edges. “Guess you didn’t see the headline of The
New Yorker then? Too busy with your head between your new toy’s legs?”
My heart kicks at my ribcage. Did Jones not pull through after all?
“What was it?”
“You and your Italian princess on the cover.”
I heave out a breath of relief. At least it wasn’t of me knocking the shit
out of Bo. A fake girlfriend I could handle. “I wouldn’t breathe easy yet, little brother. I was scrolling through the
comments online, and the Chinese Triad is calling for your blood. Hers
too.”
All the remaining air squeezes from my lungs.
“And one of the commenters claims he’s got a video of your new girl
acting like a puttana with Bo Zhang.”
Red hot fury uncoils in my gut, and I let my fist fly. Right into my
asshole brother’s face. He staggers back and lets out an indignant cry. No
one calls Stella a whore and gets away with it. Even my own flesh and
blood. “It’s a lie,” I roar. “And I already told you to keep her name off your
filthy lips.”
“Damn it, Luca, stop fucking hitting me!” Dante rubs his jaw and wipes
away the dribble of blood from his cracked lip. He spits on the ground and
shakes his head. “Get your fucking head in the game. That girl should be
the last thing on your mind. You turn on me, for what? Because I called it as
it is. Get a handle on yourself before this all blows up in our faces.”
“I’ll handle my fucking business, Dante. Just like I have all my life.” I
spin around and stalk back to my bike, rage surging through my blood.
Could Bo really have a compromising video of Stella and him? The image
makes my gut roil. His dirty hands on her perfect form, defiling her,
spoiling what’s mine.
As soon as I reach my bike, I grab my phone and shoot a message to
Jones. I need him to remove every blasphemous comment from that article.
Then when I return to the city, I’m going to pay Bo Zhang a personal visit.
Once Dante leaves Mamma’s, I breathe a little easier. Having one nosy
relative to deal with is more than enough. And at least I like my mother.
Stella sits across from Mamma at the table, sipping an espresso. The pair have gotten along like long lost sisters. I’ve never seen this relaxed, chatty
side of Stella before. And I can’t get enough.
At home, there’s always tension, even when she doesn’t know I’m
around. I’ve caught her and Magda talking, but Stella never seems truly at
ease, not like she is now with my mom. The realization pricks at my heart,
and I have a hard time swallowing down the unwanted emotion.
A few weeks with Stella and the vision of my future is muddled, blurry
like never before. Everything was so clear before she was dropped into my
life. Now, I find myself wanting things I know I don’t deserve.
“… certo, Luca?”
I glance up, Mamma’s words drawing me from my thoughts. “What?”
“I said, you’ll bring Stella up for a visit more often now that we’ve met,
certo?”
“Mmm.” I nod.
“Luca likes to keep me prisoner in his penthouse.” Stella’s cunning gaze
meets mine over the rim of the small cup.
“It’s true,” I retort with a grin. “I hardly ever let her out of that gilded
cage.”
Again, Mamma’s smiling so hard; the guilt of deceiving her is like a
punch in the face. I clear my throat abruptly and push out of the chair.
Wrapping my hand around Stella’s forearm, I tug her to her feet.
“Luca!” Mamma scolds. “Sei impazzito?”
Yes, I have absolutely gone crazy. There’s no denying it. But right now,
I need to get Stella away from my mother before she starts planning our
wedding. “I’m sorry,” I say to Stella and loosen my grip. “I just want to
show you something before we go.”
“Go already?” Mamma rises and wrings her hands in her apron.
“Si, soon. But first I want to show her my old room.”
She nods, that happiness sparking in her weary eyes. “I’ll wait for you
down here and get the leftovers ready.” “Mamma, remember we only have the motorcycle so please, don’t give
us too much.”
“You have to feed this girl, she’s wasting away.” Mamma pinches
Stella’s cheek, and despite the faint wince, she seems happy too. Happier
than I’ve seen her since she moved in with me.
Dio, that sounds like we’re together. Since I took her hostage, I amend.
Fantastico, I’m having internal arguments on the status of our relationship
now.
My hand closes around Stella’s, and I tow her down the hall and up the
stairs to my old bedroom. It’s not in fact my old bedroom, as this beautiful
house is a far cry from the little shithole we grew up in. But when I bought
Mamma this home, she recreated it to the most elaborate degree. Every
single detail of my childhood bedroom came to life in this new version. She
said it gave her something to do, a way to remember the past.
I pause at the door, wary to let Stella in on this intimate detail of my
life. The closer we get the harder it will be for us to let go. I’m fully aware
that bringing her up here was my idea because I’m not only a monster but
also a masochist.
“So are we going in or what?” Stella peeks over my shoulder, her chin
brushing my shirt.
I force my hand to turn the knob and reveal my childhood.
Two twin beds line the back wall, my side of the room covered in
posters of Italian calcio—soccer legends Totti, Maldini, and Del Piero. I
nearly choke as my gaze lands on the framed picture by my bed. Shit. I’d
almost forgotten that was there. I’d already had to remove all traces of
Vinny in the penthouse. I race to the nightstand and pretend to bump into it,
knocking the frame over. Instead of picking it up, I shove it underneath the
bed. “Oops, I’ll pick that up later,” I say lamely.
But Stella barely notices. Her eyes are fixed on the desk in the corner,
the one covered in my art. “You drew these, didn’t you?” She picks up a few of the scattered
pages.
“A long time ago.”
“They’re beautiful.” She steps closer, admiring the old charcoal
sketches.
It’s almost painful for me to look at them. They bring back too many old
memories of when we first came to New York without a dime. Of watching
Ma struggle to make ends meet, of being forced to color with charcoal
because it was the only thing I could get my hands on, of being the new kid
who spoke broken English and the son of a man the other kids called a
gangster. And the things I was forced to do as a result ….
Stella’s eyes meet mine as if she senses the raging turmoil I’ve fought
so hard to hide behind the icy mask. No one can touch Luca Valentino.
Never again.
Except for this woman.
One look and those walls crumble.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice is too soft. She’s too soft, too perfect to be
with me. But I’m a selfish bastardo, and I can’t stay away from her.
“Nothing,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
The worn paper she holds slips from her grasp as she closes in on me.
Her hand lifts to my cheek, and her soft thumb caresses my bristly jaw.
Beneath her touch, it loosens, softens until I’m seconds away from spilling
words that would ruin us.
“Why did you bring me up here if it was only going to upset you?” The
fine line between her brow puckers.
“Because I’m a sucker for punishment I guess.”
“What did you want to show me?”
All my dark, broken pieces. I shake my head, trying to force her gentle
touch free, but it only tightens. Her fingers curl under my jaw, and she
frames my face with both hands now. I breathe her in. I can’t get enough. “I just had to get you away from Mamma,” I finally force out, “before
she falls even more in love with you.”
She pauses, nibbling on her lower lip. “Right, and we can’t have that
since this is only a temporary arrangement.”
“Precisely,” I bite out.
Her hands linger on my face, eyes scrutinizing as if she could pry the
truth from my dark soul. “Kiss me,” she breathes against my lips.
It’s so far from what I expected her to say that my mouth moves on
autopilot. I claim her lips, like they’re my only hope of salvation. But
unlike by the pond, I take my time, tasting, exploring, nibbling. Last time
was fueled by lust and a raging desire to possess her.
Now I just want to revel in her touch, in her taste. My fingers weave
through the soft hair at her nape, fisting the dark locks. I deepen the kiss,
tilting her head so I can take all of her. Her hands slide down my chest and
settle around my waist. Her thumbs dip beneath the waistband of my jeans
and remain there, perfectly tucked in.
Much too soon, she pulls away, and it takes every ounce of my
willpower not to keep her locked in my arms and never let go. “Now that
was a kiss,” she whispers, a heart-stopping smile on those swollen lips.
“And I didn’t even have to beg.”
A laugh spills out, shaking my shoulders. I’m certain no one has gotten
so many lighthearted chuckles out of me in years. “Stop gloating.”
“I can’t help it.” She rises to her tiptoes and brushes her lips against
mine once again. “I’m staking my claim on virgin territory.”
A deep roar of laughter bubbles out this time, and I nearly buckle over.
“I hate to break it to you, princess, but you’re not my first kiss.” My
teenage years were wild ones.
Her lips pucker into an irresistible pout.
“It’s just been a very long time,” I finally admit. She remains quiet for an endless moment before she summons the
courage for her next words. “Who hurt you, Luca?” Her hand cradles my
cheek again, and for a second, I’m that insecure thirteen-year-old boy.
“Why do you feel the necessity to create these rules to protect your heart?”
I heave in a breath and lower the wall I’ve fought so fiercely to build.
“Because I know real pain, real struggle, Stella, and once I survived it, I
vowed I would never let anyone hurt me like that again. And the only way
to accomplish that is to never let anyone in here.” I press my hand to my
chest, over my heart and the numbers tattooed to my skin.