Chapter 15 Luka
Luka
My head pounds, and I’m genuinely concerned I might vomit all over the pristine tiled floor.
It’s been a long time since I got this wasted.
Turns out I’m a lightweight these days, which is why the shots I was dumb enough to accept while partying with a bunch of actresses and models went straight to my head.
I’m praying coffee helps. And if it doesn’t, then I might just raid Angelo’s drinks cabinet to test whether hair of the dog actually works.
Chiara glares at me from her chair, and I don’t have the energy to smile. She’s upset with me. And who can blame her?
Kane’s probably told her about my fuck up last night. Hell, TMZ may already have the story of how Luka Di Rossi fell out of a club, off his face, and ended up punching a photographer.
It was monumentally stupid, both for my career and also for our family.
My gaze slides over Chiara as I make my way toward the coffee machine. I note the bruises around her wrists and the dark shadows under her blue eyes. It’s enough to make me stop dead.
What’s happened to her? I take hold of her wrist and look more closely.
“Who hurt you? Was it Angelo?”
She snatches her wrist back.
“Why do you even care?”
“I care,” I whisper. “Tell me.”
“Really? If you cared, you’d have asked whether I was okay after being abducted, locked in a room, and then hunted by armed men in a forest.”
My jaw drops in shock. The fuck? How did I not know this? Then it dawns on me. I let my insecurities get the better of me and then disappeared on a work gig. And once that was over, I drank myself into a coma and never took the time to check in with anyone.
The only reason I’m here now is that I had our lawyer’s number on my phone and he called Angelo. Once Martin resolved my difficulties with the local police, he organized a flight home for me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I growl at Kane. The fucker shrugs, unrepentant.
“You weren’t answering your phone.” Shame washes over me. He’s right. I had a ton of missed calls and ignored them all.
Chiara shoves me back and jumps up from her chair. I watch in silence as she picks up her coffee and storms off, the little dog following in her wake.
“Fuck.”
“Yep, you’re a fucking idiot,” Kane agrees. He finishes making a double-shot espresso and hands it to me. “Get your shit together, Luka, or I’ll make sure you never set foot in this house again.”
Angelo has an unerring ability to make me feel like a little kid. He glares at me while I stare at a photo on the wall. It shows him and Fina on a beach as teenagers, grinning at the camera. His arm is around Fina, and they look as close as two siblings can be.
It’s yet another reminder of my outsider status. No matter that we’re related by blood, I will never be a full member of this family.
“Have you any idea how annoying it is for me to get a call from Martin to say you were in the lockup after punching a reporter?”
I shrug.
“No worse than it was for me, the one who got strip-searched by an overzealous cop,” I point out.
He grinds his teeth so hard it’s a wonder they don’t all crumble to dust.
“For fuck’s sake, Luka, you know better than to piss off the press. They’re like honey badgers once they get their teeth into a juicy story.”
I roll my eyes. I’m not a fucking idiot. Sure, I’d had a few drinks and smoked a few joints, but what happened wasn’t my fault, and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on.
“So you’d prefer it if I stayed here, under house arrest like Chiara?”
He huffs. “No, of course not. But be more careful! Thanks to your bullshit, Fina’s had to call in a ton of favors to bury the story. It’s lucky we had a contact there who paid off the cops to drop the charges.”
Knowing I won’t face charges is a relief. Martin said as much, but by the time he got me out of lockup, my head was about to explode and I could barely focus on tying my shoelaces.
“What happened to Chiara?” I ask once he’s finished ranting.
His fist clenches. “Someone took her on the way home shortly after the feds raided the office.”
Something else I was unaware of, and one more sign I’m not considered a member of this family. Not that I say so. What’s the point?
“Who took her?” I try not to let any emotions bleed into my voice in case he suspects how much I care. Angelo’s already angry that I slept with Chiara. Not that he has a leg to stand on since their marriage is bullshit.
“We don’t know yet.” He doesn’t elaborate, and when he glances at his watch, I realize I’m being dismissed like one of his minions. “Keep a low profile for now, Luka. I’d prefer it if TMZ didn’t splash us all over the internet.”
“I’ll do my best not to inconvenience you, brother.”
He rolls his eyes before dismissing me. I head to the bland guest room I use when I stay here.
I’ll crash for another day and then go back to my apartment, even though I hate it there.
The sad truth is I have nowhere to be for the next week, and there’s little point in hanging here when Chiara can’t stand to be in the same room as me.