Chapter 20
“Are you ready to explain what’s going on with you and Julian?” Darcy asks over FaceTime.
“He said I can crash here since he’s at the casino all the time and hardly home.” I look away, hating that I’m lying to her.
Lora might not know when I lie, but Darcy does.
“Bullshit,” she says, sitting in the living room of her parents’ Paris home. “You want to stay there.”
I lower my gaze to glare at her. “You’re so wrong.”
“My door is always open.” She holds up a finger. “And before you complain about lack of room , stay at my parents’ then. They have fifteen guest rooms.”
Darcy’s condo is in the city, but her parents have a sprawling estate in the suburbs, where I could easily stay. Her parents adore me. Julian would lose his shit if I did because of her brother, Lewi.
Lewi is harmless.
Something men like Julian don’t understand is that it’s okay to be playful. Your entire personality doesn’t have to be brooding and murderous.
Kick off your designer loafers, crack open a beer, and relax.
Switch it up some.
Live a little.
I also haven’t told her about Dima and how I’m pretty much unsafe anywhere else. Julian told me it was too dangerous, and I’m also embarrassed about the entire situation. It sucks because Darcy and I have always told each other everything.
Julian calling interrupts our conversation.
“Crap, let me call you back,” I say, forcing a chipper tone. “Love ya!”
“Love youuuu,” she sings as I switch the call to Julian’s.
His is a regular call.
Not a FaceTime.
I can’t imagine him FaceTiming.
I can hear him now, already saying FaceTime is risky.
“Yeah?” I answer, imitating his standard answering greeting.
“Pack a bag,” he demands. “You’re having a sleepover.”
“A sleepover with who?”
“Gigi. Pippa. A girls’ night.”
“You arranged a sleepover for me? What am I, ten?”
“I arranged for you to do something that’ll keep your misbehaving ass out of trouble. Now, pack a bag. Emilio will take you.”
The jerk hangs up.
Emilio drives me to Pippa’s dance studio, The Ballet Studio, where we’re meeting for girls’ night.
When we walk in, ballet students are huddled around Pippa, dressed in tutus and tights. She reminds them to practice their routine, and they hug her goodbye before dashing to their waiting parents. Emilio inches away from me, standing near the door, as I walk to Gigi.
“Hey, girl,” Gigi says, wearing a fluffy coat and diamond earrings. Her thick hair is halfway pulled back into a bun, the rest of the strands down in curls, and her plump lips are red.
She fits the look of what you’d imagine for a New York Mafia princess.
Even though I knew of Gigi, I didn’t officially meet her until she got involved with Antonio and started hanging out with Pippa. I was Pippa’s plus-one at Gigi’s wedding.
Her and Antonio’s love story gives off Romeo and Juliet vibes, minus the whole dying thing. Their families were at war while they were trying to fight their attraction to each other.
Cristian is a no-mercy man, and I thought Antonio would end up dead. But Monster Marchetti now plays nice for the sake of his daughter. It was funny; there were so many bets on whether Cristian would shoot Antonio at their wedding.
Pippa and Amara—Antonio’s daughter and Gigi’s stepdaughter—head in our direction. Pippa has a zip-up sweatshirt on with the studio’s name in glitter on the chest, and her dark hair is pulled back in a tight bun.
“Babe, I’m so sorry for what you’re going through.” Pippa wraps me in a hug. “I’ve told Damien I don’t know how many times to bring me to Julian’s to visit you. I even went on a”—she lowers her voice, so Amara doesn’t hear—“S-E-X strike.”
“Are you still on the strike?” Gigi asks.
Pippa rolls her eyes. “That’s irrelevant.”
Gigi tries to keep a straight face but fails.
Pippa flips her off, using her free hand to block Amara from seeing the gesture.
“Really sticking it to him, huh?” I raise a brow.
“He didn’t make it easy to say no.” Pippa’s cheeks burn red. “It was like my threat was a challenge for him. Every morning, he’d join me in the shower, S-T-R-O-K-E himself, and if I tried touching him, he’d remind me of the stupid S-E-X strike.”
Gigi laughs.
“I didn’t know if I wanted to smack him or F-U-C-K him,” Pippa adds.
“I hate when they do that,” Gigi says around a groan.
I sigh, a hint of jealousy hitting me.
I’ll never have that with Julian.
Never have a husband obsessed with me.
Our relationship will be purely transactional.
“Ready to go?” Amara asks, sliding on a pair of pink Gucci sneakers. She jumps to her feet and smiles. Her hair is in two tight French braids, finished with pink bows.
“Your dad should be here any minute.” Gigi pulls her phone from her handbag and checks the screen. “He’s taking you out for ice cream.”
Amara cheekily grins. “Yay!”
Gigi’s phone vibrates in her hand. “And perfect timing.”
Emilio walks out of the studio first, and we shuffle out behind him.
I stop in place, Gigi nearly tripping over me, when I see Luca standing in front of a black Escalade, identical to Julian’s, looking too confident. His lips twist into a wide smirk when our eyes meet, and he twirls the key ring around his finger.
“That’s my cousin, Luca,” Gigi explains. “He’s driving us.”
Oh shit .
Pippa covers her mouth, shaking her head. “Julian will lose his shit over this. I can’t wait.” She knows about my history with Luca.
Gigi? I’m not so sure.
Luca’s and Julian’s fingers earned me the nickname Finger Queen.
At least, according to Pippa, who loves reminding me of my hookups.
Julian knows about Luca and me. He made it clear at Gigi’s wedding that he wasn’t very happy about it either.
He texted me later that night, and I told him if he was so worried about Luca in my panties, he should’ve stepped up and touched me first. He never replied to that text.
I was almost positive the jerk had blocked me.
“Nope.” Emilio grabs my wrist to stop me from moving closer to Luca. “Not fucking happening.”
Welp. It seems Emilio also knows something.
Luca’s amused attention travels from me to Emilio. “Sup, man?”
“He’s taking us to my dad’s,” Gigi explains to Emilio, not catching on to the tension.
She and Amara walk away when a black Mercedes stops. The windows roll down, and Antonio comes into view. Gigi helps Amara into the car as Pippa slides into the back seat of Luca’s Escalade.
Luca opens the driver’s door. “Genesis, I’ll let you have the front seat.”
“You’re not leaving with him,” Emilio says, still holding me.
I break out of his hold, but don’t walk toward Luca.
Luca cocks his head. “She won’t be alone with me in the car. It’s not like I’m going to try to fuck her.” He immediately stops to add, “Unless she asks for it.”
I glare at Luca, trying my hardest to look scary. “Really?”
He throws out his arms. “I’m only helping you make your case, babe.”
“What’s the problem, Emilio?” Gigi asks, rejoining us after Antonio leaves with Amara. “Luca is a safe driver, I promise. Genesis is in good hands.” She hops into the back seat with Pippa.
“She’s most definitely in good hands,” Luca says, his voice smug with confidence.
“I’ll drive her,” Emilio states, tugging me toward his Mercedes. “We’ll follow.”
“No way in hell will Cristian allow you to drive onto the property.” Luca shakes his head. “If you insist on being a pain in the ass, you can drive her most of the way. Then I’ll pull over and drive her the rest of the way.”
Luca slides into the driver’s seat and slams the door shut.
“He doesn’t like playing chaperone,” Gigi shouts through the open window. “He’s always like this. Don’t take it personally!”
Right now, I’d rather agree to Julian’s rules than Luca’s.
Luca isn’t the one saving my life right now, and I doubt Cristian would let him anyway. From what I’ve heard, Cristian doesn’t like outsiders. The whole Emilio not allowed on his property thing further proves that point.
I follow Emilio back to his car that’s parked a few cars back from Luca.
As soon as we’re in the vehicle, Emilio tugs his phone from his suit jacket. “Did you know she’s going to the Marchetti mansion?” he asks into the speaker.
He nods a few times, listening.
My guess is, to Julian.
“Did you know Luca would be her Uber driver there?” Emilio stresses.
“So dramatic,” I grumble under my breath.
What does he think I’ll do with Luca?
Let him finger me in front of my friends?
I mean, I did let him watch Julian and me.
Emilio extends his phone to me.
I huff, taking it from him.
“Every time I let you out of the house, you cause trouble,” Julian says on the other end of the line.
“You’re the one who arranged girls’ night,” I argue. “It’s not my fault you have subpar event planning skills. Going forward, I’d suggest you allow me to arrange these.”
“I have a better idea. You don’t leave the house.”
“You caused this trouble. Not me.”
“Wrong,” he bites out. “You created this trouble when you caught Luca’s attention.”
“I can’t help it that my charm brings all the boys to the yard.”
Julian curses under his breath.
“Are you feeling a little insecure there, Julian?”
“Nah, I’m feeling a little murderous, and you’re making your way onto the list of possible victims.”
“Those aren’t words to get on my good side.”
There’s a brief silence before he says, “Being on your good side is of no concern to me.”
“I don’t care about being on your good side.” I end the call and toss the phone in Emilio’s lap. “Let’s go.”
He grabs his phone from his lap when it rings again, checks the caller ID, and answers while extending the phone to me.
Julian’s face is suddenly in front of me.
He glares into the screen like some villain.
I guess I was wrong there.
The man does FaceTime.