Secret Seduction (Tempting Love #4)

Chapter 1

Lorenzo

One-point-two million.

That’s how much the mother of my son stole from me.

I was warned that she would fuck me over, but my bleeding heart didn’t listen.

So, when she showed up at my door with a baby in tow, I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Lorenzo, how do you want to go about handling this?” Eddy—the tech genius I keep on retainer—asks over the phone just as the woman in question flits through the door, dressed head to toe in Saint Laurent.

Her hair is freshly dyed, and her nails and toes are a different color than they were when she left this morning.

“Leave it there—for now—and send me proof,” I tell him.

I hang up and glance at Hillary Sparks—the woman I was once upon a time engaged to. She showed up in Harbor Point, batted her long lashes, and convinced me that we were meant to be.

I didn’t think twice about moving her into my condo in downtown North Harbor Point.

Putting a massive ring on her finger—she’d picked it out, of course.

And when she offered to be my assistant after my previous one quit unexpectedly—who I later learned was paid off to leave—I was grateful to her.

But what I didn’t know was that she was working with my enemy, Enrique Rothschild, to take over and destroy my family’s multibillion-dollar real estate company.

Enrique was the son of Joseph Rothschild, my father’s childhood friend.

Joseph slept with the woman my father was in love with years ago, resulting in her getting pregnant and causing a permanent rift in their friendship, which ended with my father killing Joseph and Enrique seeking revenge for his father’s death.

Hillary was paid by Enrique to extract information out of me.

And she succeeded.

Enrique had everything he needed at his fingertips to tear the company apart.

But he didn’t stop there.

He screwed over my sister, Dani, by claiming to love her.

Had me and my best friend and business partner, Matteo Antonov, arrested and thrown into jail.

He gained control of the company and almost destroyed it.

Thankfully, he failed.

Matteo handled the Hillary situation for me—while I was still in jail—ensuring she was out of my condo and the locks were changed.

Then he saved my sister from the asshole—while putting a bullet in his skull and ending his miserable excuse of a life.

Matteo and Dani fell in love, and when I got out from behind bars, I gained a brother-in-law and lost a fiancée.

“Lorenzo,” Hillary coos, bringing me back to the present, “is everything okay?”

I stifle a laugh at her loaded question and take a sip of my whiskey, craving the burn as it slides down my throat and calms me.

Everything was okay.

I might’ve been heartbroken and a bit jaded from Hillary fucking me over. But I was moving forward, focusing on the business and my sister, who was getting ready to give birth to my niece—until Hillary appeared back in my life.

I look over at my son, Leonardo Sparks—he doesn’t even have my last name because the bitch gave him hers or a middle name because she didn’t want to be bothered, both of which are already in the works to be rectified—but I can’t regret everything that happened because it led me to having my son. And I’ll never regret him.

But that doesn’t change the fact that once again, like the fucking chump I am, I allowed Hillary to come back into my life and fuck me over.

Only this time, it’s going to end a bit differently.

“Everything’s okay,” I tell her, forcing my tone to remain neutral when the sight of her alone makes me want to throw up. “Did you have a good day?”

She has several bags in her hands—all designer, of course, since she looks at me like I’m her personal ATM.

When she begged me to take her in, claiming she’d lost her job and apartment when she gave birth to our son and couldn’t go back to work right away, I let her in.

She told me she wanted to be a family.

Wanted to raise Leo together.

So, I gave her a roof over her head, a credit card with no limit, and a luxury SUV for her to drive around in, and what does she do? Steals one-point-two million dollars from me.

“I did.” She beams. “I bought Leo the cutest onesie.”

She saunters through the room without so much as a glance at our son. He’s merely an accessory. She claims she has postpartum depression, which prevents her from caring for our son. Yet I’ve never actually seen her depressed.

But you know what I have seen? Her fucking her lowlife boyfriend, Jimmy, at the motel one town over. When I had Eddy bug her phone, wanting to see if she really was suffering from PPD, I found out more than I’d bargained for.

She had been dating Jimmy when she found out she was pregnant. He was pissed the baby wasn’t his, but when he learned that I was rich, he convinced her to show up at my condo with the plan to steal from me so they would be set for life—his words, not mine.

And since she knew how my business accounts worked, from when she had been my assistant, she played her part until she could transfer the funds from my business account into hers.

I don’t know if she thought I wouldn’t notice or she assumed she’d be gone by the time I did.

But I noticed immediately, and now I’ve got her right where I want her.

“I have a business meeting I need to attend,” I say. “Can you watch Leo for about a half hour?”

“I already told you that I’m not in a place to watch him,” she insists with a fake-as-hell pout.

No, she’s not in a place to watch our son. But she’s in a place to spend hours shopping. To get manis and pedis every other day. To go tanning several times a week. To meet up with her boyfriend daily …

When I tried to talk to her about her PPD, suggesting we speak to someone, she waved me off and told me she just needed time. What she really meant was she needed time to steal my fucking money.

“Where’s the nanny?” she asks, concern etched on her features—not over the nanny or our child’s well-being, but at the thought of actually having to parent our child.

“She had an emergency,” I lie. The truth is, I excused her early, not wanting her to witness what was about to go down in my home.

Hillary nods and then strolls out with her bags in tow.

But before she can get far, I call out her name. “I was thinking we could have dinner tonight. Just the two of us.” I nod toward Leo, who is sleeping soundly. At eight months old, Leo’s a good baby. He sleeps all night, eats like a champ, and for the most part, is happy. “I’ll have Dani watch him.”

Dani’s daughter, Alba, is almost six months old, and while they’re not old enough to play together, they love to lie next to each other and babble.

It’s really fucking cute. I haven’t asked Dani to watch him yet, but once she knows what’s going down tonight, she’ll be more than happy to keep Leo for the night, wanting him to be as far away from Hillary as possible.

“What’s the occasion?” Hillary asks skeptically.

“I have some news I want to share with you.”

She freezes for a moment and then nods. “Sure.”

I pull out my phone and text my attorney, telling him what I need, and he assures me he’ll have it done in a couple of hours.

I spend the rest of the afternoon attempting to get work done while playing with Leo once he wakes up.

Since Hillary showed up, I’ve resorted to working part-time from home the past several months, wanting to spend time with Leo since his other parent doesn’t want anything to do with him.

I had a play area installed in the corner of my home office that keeps him safe and is a fun area for him to play in.

When the paperwork comes through from my attorney, I print it and then order Hillary’s favorite dinner from North Harbor Point Country Club. On my way to pick it up, I drop Leo off with Dani and Matteo, who wish me luck.

As I set it all out on the table, I chuckle at the irony. Not even a year ago, she helped to put me in jail. And here I am, preparing her final meal like one would for a death row inmate.

“Mmm, smells good,” Hillary says, strolling into the dining room. She’s changed into a formfitting dress and heels. “You got my favorite.” Her eyes light up in appreciation, and it only makes me hate her that much more. The woman should get an award for her Oscar-worthy performance.

She slides into her seat and starts plating up her food. I wait until she has poured herself a glass of wine and is about to dig in before I pull the rug out from under her.

“This is for you.” I hand her the manila folder, and her brows furrow in confusion.

She carefully sets her fork down and slowly opens it up.

“What is this?” she asks, glancing up at me, even though I know on the top—in big, bold letters—it specifies what the papers are for.

“Voluntary termination of parental rights. You’re going to sign the papers and then leave.”

“Excuse me?” She flinches like she’s been slapped. “You … you can’t take my son from me.”

“You don’t even want him,” I point out, keeping my anger in check. “He was simply a way to work your way back into my life.”

I slide the text messages I printed across the table, which prove she not only lied about having postpartum depression, but also outline everything she did, including stealing from me.

“You hacked into my phone?” she hisses, quickly losing her cool. “How dare you! That’s an invasion of privacy. I could sue you—”

I bark out a laugh and slide the second set of papers across the table.

“You could, but that won’t negate the fact that you stole one-point-two million dollars from me.

And since I have proof, I can sue you, and you’ll go to jail for five to ten years for grand theft.

” I tsk. “If you were going to risk jail time, you really should’ve transferred more.

One-point-two million?” I scoff. “That’s chump change compared to what I’m worth. ”

She splutters, shocked at the turn of events, and I wish I had set up a camera to record this to watch in the future. I’m sure Matteo would’ve gotten a kick out of it—he warned me about her from the beginning.

“So, I sign the papers, and I can keep the money?” she asks, adding to the reasons why I despise this woman. There’s no amount of money anyone could offer me that would have me willingly giving up my son.

“Sign the papers and get the fuck out of my home.”

She assumes that means she can keep the money—and that was intentional on my part—so she signs them and is about to head to her room to grab her stuff when I stop her.

“Everything in that room I paid for. You can leave with what you came with … your thieving fucking self.”

She huffs. “Fine. Have a nice life, Lorenzo.”

She stalks out of the condo, and I first call Ronald, the doorman who’s on duty, to make sure he notes that she’s not welcome back up here at any time. And then I text Eddy.

Me: Papers are signed. Make the transfer.

Eddy: Done.

I sit back down at the table and eat my dinner since I’m hungry and it’s delicious, knowing this isn’t over, but satisfied that even though she tried to screw me over, I got the last laugh.

It sucks that my son will grow up without a mom, but it’s better than having one who doesn’t even love him. And I’ll make sure that he’s loved enough for both of us.

I’m just taking my last bite when Ronald calls me.

“Miss Sparks is back. I explained she’s not on the list, but she’s throwing a fit.”

“Put her on, please.”

“Lorenzo!” she shrieks. “How fucking dare you! You said I could keep the money!”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort. Now, leave and be glad I’m not forcing you to rot in prison. Didn’t you once say that orange wasn’t your color?”

I hang up and text Matteo.

Lorenzo

It’s done. Can you please make sure she never comes back?

Matteo

It would be my fucking pleasure.

I take my plate to the sink and then head into the living room, dropping onto the couch and looking around as I wonder what the hell I’m going to do. I went from wanting to find a woman to marry and spend my life with to being a single dad.

When I was growing up, my parents were up front with Dani and me.

Their marriage had been arranged by their parents—something that was common in Italy between families who wanted to continue to increase their wealth and power.

And while I have no doubt that they cared for one another, the romantic in me always wanted to marry for love.

I once saw the way my dad looked at Maria—Joseph’s wife and the woman he was in love with before shit went sideways—and I could tell the difference immediately.

The raw emotion in his features. The want and desire.

The devastation of knowing they’d never be together.

Add to the fact that I’ve watched everyone in my inner circle fall in love—Peyton and Matteo’s older brother, Dominick; Matteo and Dani; and most recently, Kane and Brielle, Matteo and Dominick’s younger sister——and I told myself that I would have that one day.

My phone dings with an incoming text, shaking me from my thoughts.

It’s a picture of Leo grinning from ear to ear.

Dani

He’s so sweet.

I stare at the picture of my son for several minutes. Matteo always jokes that I wear my heart on my sleeve and let people in too easily.

And he’s not wrong. I not only let Hillary make a fool out of me once, but even after knowing the type of person she was, I let her saunter back into my life, only to make me look stupid again.

Well, that’s done.

Lesson fucking learned.

The only person I’m letting into my heart wears diapers, has a gummy smile, and won’t screw me over.