Chapter 27 Chiara
Chiara
Loneliness and I are intimate acquaintances. Once Vivian came along, my father stopped paying much attention to me, and our home was so unwelcoming that I gave up inviting school friends over.
Books became my refuge.
I’ve been relying on books and the TV to entertain me since Kane brought me here, but today I’m not in the mood for words. Or much of anything.
Sleeping with Luka has left me with an almighty emotional hangover. From the moment I woke up, I had regrets.
Luka’s bad for me. Not only is he Angelo’s brother, but he’s also a born flirt. I have enough problems right now, and falling for a man who treats women as expendable fucktoys is a terrible idea.
The kitchen is empty when I wander in around midday. There’s a chicken pie in the refrigerator, but pie doesn't appeal. What I really want is something greasy and calorific. Something to take the edge off my bad mood.
Waking up to discover my period had arrived was not exactly an amazing start to my day. Thank fuck someone had filled the bathroom cabinet with feminine hygiene products or I’d have been throwing plates around by now.
A car pulls up outside, but I’m too busy stabbing buttons on the coffee machine to bother looking. If it’s Angelo, he better not piss me off because I’m pretty sure being on my period would be a valid defense in a murder trial.
The front door opens, and I hear footsteps.
“Something wrong?” Kane asks from the doorway. Today he’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a tight tee. The man always looks ready for a tactical black ops mission. I sigh. Why can’t he be ugly with a dad bod? It would make it so much easier to ignore him.
“Low blood sugar.”
“Would greasy food and chocolate help?”
“Maybe,” I pout.
“Then come with me. Your chariot awaits.” I glance down at my loose sweats, baggy tee, and sliders, and then shrug. If he’s offering to take me out of this mausoleum, who am I to object?
Once outside, Kane opens the door for me. For an asshole, he’s surprisingly chivalrous when he’s not drugging innocent young women in parking lots.
Thirty minutes later, we pull up outside a small diner.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
“You’re hungry.”
“So?”
“So I’m taking care of you.”
I’m temporarily stunned into silence as he takes my arm and escorts me inside the brightly lit diner. When I look back, a second SUV has arrived with two of Angelo’s men, but they stay outside.
“I’d have made something eventually,” I tell Kane. “Dominic usually leaves food for me to eat.”
Kane ignores me and leads us to a corner booth at the back. No sooner have I picked up a menu than a woman with frizzy red hair appears with a notepad and pen. She chews the pen while tapping her foot.
“The usual?” Kane nods. He must come here often. “And you, honey?” She smiles at me, but I can tell she’s curious.
“Um, what do you recommend?” The question is for the server, but Kane orders for me.
“She’ll have a cheeseburger with fries and coleslaw and a chocolate milkshake with cream and all the extras.” I’m about to complain about him ordering for me without asking, but he’s right. A cheeseburger and chocolate shake sound perfect.
“Be back shortly, folks.” Our server hustles away.
“Come here often?” I ask Kane when the silence between us grows awkward.
“Most weeks, yeah.”
“You need to be careful.”
His brow quirks up in confusion. “Why?”
I smirk. “Eating too much fatty food will make you fat.”
He scoffs and lifts his tee. “See any fat here, kitten?”
I peer over the table and inspect his abs. Holy shit. The man has zero percent body fat.
“Um, I hate to break it to you, bud, but that looks like the beginnings of a dad bod to me. How old are you anyway? Like forty?”
He growls. “I’m thirty, three years older than Angelo.”
That shuts me up for a second. I thought Angelo was way older. He sure acts older.
“Still old enough to be my sugar daddy.” I wink, and he laughs just as the redhead brings our drinks.
“Wow,” she marvels, passing me a chocolate shake with cream, sprinkles, and lashings of chocolate sauce. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh.”
Kane grabs his soda and rolls his eyes. “Not much to laugh about in my line of work, Janice,” he deadpans.
My stomach feels full to bursting, and I could do with a nap. In fact, on reflection, I might soak in the tub and then have an early night.
Kane steers the car through Angelo’s huge metal gates with our two stooges close behind. Aside from some surface-level chat while we ate, he’s not said much, although I’ve caught him staring at me a few times.
“Thanks,” I say when we stop outside the house and he switches the engine off. Thanking that man for anything feels wrong given he’s fifty percent of the reason I’m here, but I can’t deny it wasn’t nice to sit in a diner for a short while and eat good, plain food.
A pleasant vacation from my shit-show of a life.
“You’re welcome, kitten,” he replies. His usual smirk is missing, and I’m not sure why. He went quiet after Janice commented about never hearing him laugh. What’s that about? He has a sense of humor. I heard him laugh when I behaved badly at the gala.
“Do you kill people for Angelo?” The throwaway comment about his line of work being nothing to laugh about has stuck in my head like an irritating pop tune.
His hand freezes on the door handle. “Why? Would it bother you if I did?”
I think about that for a moment and am surprised when I realize it doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.
“Not if they’re bad people,” I admit.
His lip quirks up. “There are no good or bad people in our world, Chiara. Only shades of gray.”
“So that would make you morally gray?” I like books with morally gray MMCs. Which says a lot about me and my fucked-up head.
“Been reading mafia romances, kitten?” Kane winks, and I blush. He must have seen my latest reading material on the nightstand. Fina dropped off some books the other day. All of them filthy as fuck.
“I prefer smutty cowboy romances. Can’t beat a sexy dude in Wranglers and cowboy boots.”
“I see,” Kane says while trying not to laugh. “Did you meet many sexy cowboys when you landed in Texas?”
Now it’s my turn to smirk. “I met lots of sexy cowboys, Kane. Sometimes two at a time.” Aside from the bull rider, I met precisely zero sexy cowboys, but it’s amusing to let Kane think otherwise. He might tell Angelo, who will then lose his shit.
“Two at a time, eh?” To my surprise, Kane’s eyes darken and he leans in. “Color me shocked.”
Despite recently demolishing a greasy burger, Kane smells like black pepper and musk with a hint of citrus. My hormones go into meltdown, and it becomes a matter of mind over body not to jump the sexy bastard.
I shouldn’t be interested in Kane. Not after being so thoroughly fucked by Luka last night. But it turns out I’m a shameless hussy at heart. One man isn’t enough.
“What a shame I have no interest in morally gray assholes with small dicks.” I pull a sad face. Kane snorts.
“I’ll bear that in mind. Now get your sexy ass out of the car. I have shit to do.”
“People to murder?”
He chuckles. “No murdering tonight, kitten. Meeting a friend for a drink.”
My hackles rise. “A female friend?” Why I’m asking is a mystery because it’s none of my business, and I hate Kane almost as much as I hate Angelo.
“Jealous, kitten?” The bastard smirks.
“Nope,” I lie. His grin widens like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, but before I say or do something I might regret, I yank my door open. “Gotta go. I have an itch to scratch and a sexy cowboy book that will help smooth the way. Bye!”
Kane’s laughter follows me all the way into the house where Horatio is waiting with his usual sneer.
But I ignore him because I wasn’t lying to Kane.
I’m so fucking horny right now that if Angelo walked in glowering at me while wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, I’d fuck that man without a moment’s hesitation.