5. Luca
LUCA
Dear Diary,
Today I ran into the guy I almost hooked up with… Turns out he works for my future stepmother. Because of course he does.
At forty-seven hours and fifty-nine minutes since my father made his demand, I pulled my truck into his driveway.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of returning any earlier than that, even though I’d stayed in Saint View last night, a mere five-minute drive away from his mansion in Providence.
I’d slept in my truck, too broke for a hotel, and no friends with couches I could crash on.
But stuffing my long legs into the back seat and getting cramps in my calves and shoulders was preferable to coming back here and sleeping between one-thousand-thread-count sheets.
I stopped the truck in the middle of the driveway, hoping it would spring a leak and drip oil all over the perfectly cleaned pavers.
Petty, sure. But that’s where I was at. Complete and utter resentment for the fact I was here filled me so thick and heavy it felt like I could barely pick up my feet.
But I did. I dragged them to the front door, which opened as if automatic.
Virginia, the housekeeper who had worked for my family for as long as I could remember, beamed up at me, tears shining in her warm golden-brown eyes. “You’re home, Mr. Guerra.”
I smiled down at her, which was probably the only genuine smile I’d get to give beneath this roof. I bent and kissed her cheek. “You wiped my snotty nose when I was a kid, Virginia. You held my hand when we crossed the street. You do not have to call me Mr. Guerra.”
She took my hand and squeezed it affectionately. “You’re not that little boy anymore.”
Didn’t I know it. The weight of my responsibilities crushed down.
How long until my father put me back to work, helping him run the various businesses that made up his kingdom?
How long before I was back to barking out orders, making demands, doing shit that made my heart sink because he demanded it?
And I would do it all.
Because Isabella’s happiness and my father’s promise to keep her husband away from her was all that mattered. I’d failed her once. I wouldn’t do it again.
“Where’s my father?”
Virginia shook her head. “He sends his apologies. He’s been caught up on business and couldn’t be here to greet you or Miss Matish on your arrivals.”
“Who?”
“Nyah Matish? Your father’s fiancée?”
My mouth dropped open. “He’s marrying a Matish? He hates the Matishes? Is he insane?”
Virginia twisted her fingers nervously at my inadvertent shouting, and I instantly felt bad.
I lowered my voice. “Why would he marry her?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I’m not sure, sir. Perhaps he loves her?”
I snorted. “Yeah, okay, and I’m Santa Claus.
That truck I parked out there is actually a sleigh, and I’m gonna magic up some red-nosed reindeers to smoke a pipe with.
” I winced again at the sharp tone I used and hugged Virginia to me.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a jackass.
I swear, I’ve actually been a nice person for the last twelve months.
But there’s just something about this house that makes me want to murder people. ”
Or myself.
I might have considered that if I could have been sure my old man would keep his word and leave Isabella out of all of this. But I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.
But there were people I trusted less. The Matishes being at the top of that list. The old man had lost his ever-loving mind.
“Do you have bags to be brought in?” Virginia asked. “Can I help?”
The woman was too good to be working in a hellhole like this one. She was probably at least seventy, and I knew she had a hip that ached when there was dampness in the air. I was absolutely not going to have her carrying in my things.
“No,” I told her. “I didn’t bring much with me.”
That was the truth. Other than the clothes on my back and a phone to keep in contact with Isabella, I hadn’t brought much at all.
I no longer had use for the high-visibility work shirts and khaki shorts that had become my uniform for the last year.
The dusty work boots were all I had left of the life I’d just walked away from.
When I took them off tonight, it would be for the last time.
Luca Simpson, the fake name I’d used for the last year, was a laborer who worked an honest job, in the dirt, with his hands.
Luca Guerra wouldn’t be seen dead in anything cheaper than a thousand-dollar suit. He was the mob boss’s son. Cold. Ruthless. Didn’t care about anyone but himself.
“Do you want food?” Virginia asked. “I saved something…”
But I shook my head wearily. “No thank you. I just want to go to bed.” I tried to stretch out the crick in my neck that had been there all day. “I didn’t sleep well last night so I’m exhausted.”
She nodded. “Of course. I prepared your old bedroom with towels and a new toothbrush for you as soon as your father told me you were coming home.” Happiness sparkled in her eyes.
Virginia was the closest thing I’d had to a mother for as long as I could remember. And I hadn’t even said goodbye to her when I’d left with Isabella. It was only now I realized how much that must have hurt her.
I hugged the small, soft woman then trudged my way up the stairs.
Nothing had changed since I’d left. The same paintings hung on the wall.
The same thick carpet beneath my feet. With every step, my life with Isabella faded.
I could practically feel one skin shedding and a new one replacing it.
Or rather, an old one, that unfortunately fit all too well.
I turned down the bedroom hallway and gave a distracted nod to the man standing outside one of the guest rooms. And then did a double take as I recognized him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Lynx blinked sleepily at first, but then recognition dawned in his eyes. And suddenly they were wide as saucers. “I…” He glanced back at the door behind him. “I work here. I’m the new bodyguard for the future Mrs. Guerra.”
“Since when? Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
Lynx narrowed his eyes at the demanding, arrogant tone that seemed to instantly come back to me when I was beneath this roof.
“Since today, actually,” he said. “And why would I have told you last night? Why are you here?”
“I live here!”
He blinked again, this time in surprise. “You…live here?”
The attraction from last night slipped between us once more. Gaze connecting. Heat flaring. He was all broad shoulders and tattoos. A thug for sure, not the sort of guy you took home to your mama. But I had no interest in dating.
I’d been down on my knees for this man less than twenty-four hours ago.
And we’d been rudely interrupted.
I pointed down the hallway. “That’s my bedroom right there.” It was a response to his question about me living here, but I didn’t miss the heat that curled around the words, like it was an invitation for him to join me.
But his expression hardened. “That’s your bedroom? Right there?”
I nodded.
He swore under his breath. “You’re Mr. Guerra then?”
I groaned. “Did Virginia tell you to call me that?”
Lynx said nothing, but his lips were tight.
I couldn’t be bothered with the act anymore. I’d wanted him last night. I still wanted him. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had sex.
I was just going to bite the bullet. I walked backward to my door and rested my hand on the knob. “You coming in or not?”
He gave one slight shake of his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Guerra.”
Embarrassment heated my face. Fuck, why did I keep doing this to myself? I was always attracted to men who were completely uninterested. Considering Lynx had been into it last night, but now he wasn’t, I had to believe his lack of interest in me now was solely because of my last name.
Just another reason to hate my fucking father.
I hadn’t been with anyone since I’d left.
I’d been too scared to go out anywhere that wasn’t absolutely essential, too scared someone would recognize me as Carlos Guerra’ s son, snap a pic, and post it online, where Lenny, my father’s IT guy, would surely find it.
I regretted that now. When I’d been Luca Simpson, I could be my own person. No strings attached. Maybe I could have actually found someone to settle down with.
But Luca Guerra was destined to be miserable and alone.
Lynx’s rejection was a reminder of that. But it didn’t stop me wanting him.
I shoved the disappointment down and nodded, forcing myself not to add on something pathetic like, “Well, if you change your mind!”
Lynx wouldn’t be changing his mind. I was his fucking boss now, so he was probably right in not wanting to sleep with me. I could have fired him, so there wouldn’t have been that conflict of interest, but I somehow doubted he would like me any better if I lost him his job.
I hoped my father’s fiancée planned on being out of the house a lot. If Lynx had been hired to be her bodyguard, that would keep him away from me, so I didn’t have to constantly relive his rejection.
I could feel his gaze on me as I turned the knob, and I took one last glimpse at him before I slipped inside.
God, he looked good in a suit. It was ill fitted, to be fair. And probably cheap, but I suspected Lynx would have looked good in anything.
I slipped inside my bedroom and shut the door behind me. Then leaned back on it, groaning. I didn’t even bother switching on the light. I didn’t need to see myself in the mirror to know I had mortification written all over my expression.
Mortification and need. Fuck, it had been way too long since I’d been with anyone.
Well over a year. I hadn’t even jerked off during that time, because Mrs. Wilson’s little house was so small that I was fully convinced both she and my sister would know exactly what I was doing if I even thought about it.
That was not a problem in this house, with its numerous empty wings and rooms.
In the darkness, I unzipped my jeans and dragged them down with my underwear. My dick was already hard, had been ever since I’d taken one glimpse of Lynx standing there in a suit. I toed off my boots so I could get my jeans off the entire way.
But it was my cock that stole most of my attention. I yanked my shirt off with one hand, pumping my dick with the other, and stumbled across the room in the pitch-black, fumbling for the bed.
I caught my toe on the frame and swore. But at least I’d found it in the large room. I dropped down onto it, groaning as I rolled over onto my back and fucked my hand some more.
The soft female moan from the other side of the bed was the first inclination that I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought.