CHAPTER 7
Nirah
MY HEART DROPPED as the huge black gates opened to a spacious front yard—lined with beautiful green plants and cars. Woah.
He went past security and drove down a lengthy driveway.
His house—more like a fucking fortress —was painted a off white color. The place exuded European elegance. It had multiple stories with tall, rectangular windows arranged in neat rows. A wide, winding driveway led up to the front entrance, bordered by low-cut grass and vintage-style lanterns.
This place was insane. I was stunned and partially afraid.
Slowly, I turned my head to look at him. “Are you in the mafia?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him in suspicion and he grinned, turning the steering wheel.
“Why? You scared?” he taunted, putting the car in reverse.
I swallowed hard, watching him turn back with one hand behind my seat as he reversed between two other cars. He turned the engine off and looked at me with a little devil behind his eyes.
“If you’re not I’m going to be very disappointed,” I mused, crossing my arms over my chest as I slightly turned to him.
“If I tell you, I’m going to have to kill you,” he replied with a hint of foolishness. Though, a large part of me feared that it was not a joke.
I placed one hand on the center console and the other on his thigh as I leaned in towards him. I dropped my eyes to his lips. “I know how to keep a secret,” I whispered. My fingers lightly grazed the inside of his thigh, and his green eyes lingered on my lips as he hung onto every word.
I pulled back with a timid smile, sinking into the seat and amusement flickered behind his eyes.
“And why am I at your house, Jack the stalker?”
“Because you have nowhere else to go right now. Or am I wrong?”
I looked back out at his house then at him. I shook my head and he got out.
With trembling hands I opened the door and stepped out—following behind him. He opened the front door and moved back with his hand still on the handle so that I could walk in first. The air inside was chilly, and a draft of cleanliness brushed against me.
Looking ahead, I was met with a huge foyer and two sets of stairs on either side, rounding as they lead upstairs.
To my left was a living room but I couldn’t see any further. To my right was a wall with two doors and further down a hallway. The place looked surprisingly good seeing as it was owned by him.
“No, Denver ,” a feminine voice seethed and my head snapped up to his assistant that I had met at the cafe, elegantly walking down the stairs.
“He wants them in tomorrow. What my boss wants, he gets. Make it work before I come in there and—” she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, seeing us staring at her.
“Just get it done,” she barked before ending the phone call.
“Wait. Don’t tell me,” she strutted towards us. “You knocked her up.”
“You didn’t tell me this was a hooker house,” I said, looking back at him and his assistant glared at me.
“Says the hooker he just dragged in,” she snapped back.
“Be nice,” he warned and I smiled at her.
“Yeah. Be nice, Tiffany .” I don’t even know if her name is Tiffany. She just looks like a Tiffany.
“You too,” he said to me and I looked him up and down before rolling my eyes.
“Not on your payroll, sweetness . Don’t tell me what to do,” I drawled, taking a few steps into the house as I glanced around the dark color scheme. “He has surprisingly good taste,” I murmured to myself.
“Thank you,” he said and I mentally kicked myself. He didn’t need to hear that. “Samantha,” he said and I whipped around.
“ Samantha ,” I almost laughed. “That would’ve been my next guess, God, you’re so predictable.”
“And you’re nothing but a hooker who I’m guessing got lucky. So please, keep that filthy mouth away from me or I’ll come over there and do it myself.”
“You sure, I wouldn’t want you breaking a nail or anything,” I crossed my arms over my chest. She scanned my outfit and smiled.
“Definitely a downgrade from the last one you brought home,” she turned to face him. Of course he’s brought other women to his house.
My eyes darted to the flower pot beside one of the tables and a huge smirk appeared on my face. As I picked it up he grabbed it from me and my smirk immediately disappeared.
“Don’t break my house down,” he lowered his tone and I sighed. “Show her to her room for tonight.”
“Yes sir,” Samantha smiled and turned on her heels. “Let’s go Judy Blume,” she headed to the stairs, swaying her hips in the process as her long blonde hair spiraled down her back.
“I’m surprised your knowledge extends that far.”
As she led me upstairs he walked in a different direction. Samantha opened a bedroom door and walked inside. Not bad.
She left for a while as I looked around the room. There was a queen-sized bed with milky white pillows to my left with a nightstand on either side. Across the bed were two huge rectangular windows with long cream colored curtains. Opposite the bed was the entrance to the bathroom.
“Here,” she handed me some clothes, interrupting my inspection of the room. “It’s his. I wouldn’t share my wardrobe with you even if you were naked.” She turned on her heels and strutted out, slamming the door shut behind herself.
It was a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.
I got cleaned up in the fully stocked bathroom—someone was either prepared, or he seriously got around, but thankfully, everything was sealed.
I slipped into his t-shirt that fit me like a dress. His sweatpants on the other hand was way too big, especially around my waist even when I folded it over. I decided the shirt would have to do.
I plopped down onto the bed, melting into the soft sheets.
I ran my palm flat over the material, glancing around the room.
It was surreal to me that people lived like this.
Don’t even think about it, Nirah. I was not —yes you were.
Shut up, little voice in my head. What do you even know?
More than enough. Well, maybe he has a hotter, less of a pain in the ass brother.
Nirah. Okay, fine. You win, little voice.
With a sigh, I dialed Silvia’s number and I fell back, lifting my cellphone to my ear. During my chit-chat with her, three of the workers knocked and I let them in. Two women and one male. They brought me trays of food and drinks. My eyes grew wide in shock.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Rosalia. Mr. De Luca wants you to eat. He wasn’t sure what you’d like so he told us to make as much as possible.”
They carefully placed three trays of food down in front of me, the fourth tray holding drink options.
“Thank you…” I smiled, trailing my eyes over the warm meals.
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
“No, call me Nirah,” I insisted.
The younger one subtly rolled her eyes at me and left the room with the other gentleman. “Forgive Bianca. She does not like any of the women my boss brings home,” Rosalia grabs my attention again.
After she left, I looked down at the mouth watering food.
* * *
I was woken up by a cold breeze brushing up against my bare arms, and I noticed the window had been slightly left open.
I sighed, climbing out of the warm bed and the cold air sent goosebumps over my arms and legs. I tiptoed to the window and closed it. I stared out at his property and it was breathtaking. I chewed my bottom lip as the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Everyone’s asleep, right?
Carefully, I crept out of the room and quietly closed the door. After almost getting lost I finally found the kitchen. I stopped right as I was about to walk inside. You don’t know where the light switch is, Nirah. But I’m sure his fridge has a light inside. Right?
With my arms out in front of me, I felt my way through the darkness and knocked my leg twice. Fuck me, that hurt like a bitch.
I finally got to the fridge and opened both doors at the same time. I was confronted by a bright light and cool air. It was like food heaven.
“What are you doing in my fridge?”
I immediately grabbed my knife strapped to my thigh and pointed it at the person behind me, aiming straight for their throat.
“Seriously?” I whispered as I held the knife towards him.
He wasn’t even fazed by the fact that I could’ve easily slit his throat—by accident, of course. He simply stood there, hands behind his back. Wait… was he in here the entire time?
“And why aren’t you wearing any pants?” he suddenly questioned, drawing me out of my head.
He placed his hand on my shoulder, shoving me out of the way and I stumbled, almost falling.
“Cause yours wouldn’t fit,” I replied, trying to shove him back—with my shoulder—but he didn’t budge.
He was like a huge mountain. I only ended up hurting my shoulder. He raised a brow at me as he grabbed a water bottle.
“I think your ass is too fat,” I grinned, looking him up and down. “Gimme a little twirl, let me see,” I nudged him on and he stared down at me— appalled .
“You just—” he cut himself off with a little head tilt. “You’re a troubled little girl, aren’t you?” he mused, twisting the cap of his bottle of water.
I smiled. “So I’ve heard.”
I grabbed some strawberries, grapes, diced pineapples and an apple from his fridge and headed over to the kitchen island with my hands and arms full.
I plopped down onto one of the kitchen bar stools, setting the fruit down.
My feet were freezing, so I lifted them and placed them on the metal footrest—as if that would be any better.
“Hey,” I slowly said in thought as I picked up a strawberry and he twisted the bottle cap back on.
“I just realized that I still don’t know your name, yet, you know mine. ”
“You know my last name.”
“No, I don’t…” I trailed off.
He nodded. “Yes you do.”
I paused in thought for a second. “Oh yeah, De Luca,” I smiled. “But, I still want to know your name.”
“And why is that?” he asked taking slow steps towards me.
“So that I can address you, obviously.”
“Mr. De Luca will suffice.”
“I’m not on your payroll so I don’t have to ‘ mister ’, you anything.”