Forever Lies

21

Before Luca answered, he switched the call from the overhead speakers to his phone for privacy. “This isn’t a good time,” he said brusquely, then paused as the caller spoke. “My gut tells me it’s him, but I need more time to be certain … Well, tell them to calm the f**k down—nothing’s going to change in the matter of a week … That’s what I thought.” The caller hung up, and Luca tossed his phone back into a dashboard compartment. Tension filled the car until I could feel the oppressive weight of it pressing against my chest. I wasn’t supposed to hear his conversation, that had been clear. Not only had I heard Luca’s end, a snippet from the caller rang clear in my ears. Venturi is demanding blood for blood. “Sorry about that—more work s**t,” he bit out, still radiating anger from his conversation. “No problem.” f**k, yes, it was a problem. Blood for blood? What the hell had that meant? In what other dimension did banking involve conversations where ‘blood for blood’ would be applicable? Was that code for something? There was no way I was going to ask for more information, not while he was angry, and certainly not while I was captive in his car. Both the subject matter and his emotional response created a deep-seated unease inside me. I had told myself I wouldn’t walk away just because I was scared he would hurt me, but the words I’d overheard changed everything. There had been no humor in the man’s voice and certainly none in Luca’s response. Both men had been dead serious about the subject matter, and in my gut, I knew I should have the same reaction. Thank God, my mother had instilled in me the crucial ability to maintain appearances. On the outside, I carried on as if nothing had happened, asking about his plans for the day and thanking him for the ride. On the inside, I was coming apart. As much as I wanted to ignore the faint smell of smoke and the warnings I’d received, the conversation had been a red flag I couldn’t disregard. Where there was smoke, there was fire. I had said I needed something more concrete—how much more concrete were angry phone calls talking about blood? Something about Luca made me wary, and now, I had a sound reason for that fear. He was captivating and alluring in ways no other man had been, but there was something more sinister lurking beneath that tempting façade —how sinister, I had no idea. It could merely be a bad temper, or he could be a psychopath. The problem was, I’d never know until it was too late. Luca told me he’d give me a ride home after work. I didn’t argue. He pressed a kiss to my lips, and I offered a warm smile in return before hurrying to my office, where I fended off a panic attack. I needed an exit strategy. How did you walk away from a man like Luca who didn’t take no for an answer? My concern wasn’t that he was going to attack me physically—quite the opposite. He’d lure me back in. Using the magnetic charisma he possessed, he’d whisk away my concerns until they were a distant memory. Luca was the most tantalizing dessert I’d ever seen. No matter that I’d been on a diet for weeks and didn’t want to ruin my good health, the moment I got a whiff of the rich, creamy decadence, every ounce of my resolve would disappear until I couldn’t remember a single reason why I should say no. The only chance I had of not giving in was to avoid him completely. I couldn’t eat the dessert if I was never near it. A finite plan would be necessary, but for now, I decided on simply escaping him for the day. I would figure out a more thorough solution once I was home. As the end of the workday rolled around, I texted Luca, explaining I had an unexpected late meeting and would have my driver take me home. Just text me when you’re done, I’ll pick you up. f**k. I knew that would be his response. I’m headed into the meeting and already have my driver lined up. I’ll text you later. I turned off my phone and gathered my things, not wanting to risk a surprise visit from Luca. I texted Leo to pick me up around the corner and used the service elevator to exit out the back of the building. The entire walk to the car, I fought the overwhelming urge to look over my shoulder. “Is everything alright, ma’am?” asked Leo as I slid into the black Cadillac. “Yes, I was just behind on my walking today—needed to get those steps in,” I replied airily, relieved I’d prepared an explanation for my change in pickup instructions. Leo eyed me with a hint of suspicion. He was close to me in age and attractive if you liked that meathead sort of look. I didn’t know what he did in his spare time to bulk up, but he obviously spent ample hours in the gym. His muscles had muscles. I raised my brows somewhat haughtily, reminding him he was paid to drive me, not act as my chaperone. He huffed out a laugh and pulled the car away from the curb. Not until I safely entered my apartment did I breathe a deep sigh of relief. Tension had crept into my shoulders, which now ached from being clenched tight all day. I set aside my purse and work satchel, then bee-lined for my bathroom, where I filled the oversized tub. The warm water was a balm on my sore muscles and even soothed my racing thoughts. As the anxiety melted off me into the steaming water, I was left with a resounding sense of sadness. I had wanted things to work out with Luca more than I’d realized. Walking away from him meant facing the loss of the fantasy I’d envisioned in my head. I had never gone out with a man who made me feel as special or beautiful as Luca did, nor had I dated a man who enchanted my senses the way he could. Whether it was his musky scent, the sight of his chiseled features, his masterful touch, or the reeling emotions brought on by his words, Luca was a masterful magician, using his tricks to bewitch me in every way. In a short time, I’d grown attached to the way he made me feel, and losing that was going to be agonizing. Just as painful, I would have to put on my big-girl panties and tell him I didn’t want to see him any longer. It would be a difficult conversation, but I was capable of doing hard things, or so I told myself. It would take a bit of time to scrounge up the courage, but I could do it. Tomorrow. After I’d had a chance to wallow in bed and spend the night eating ice cream. After the bath, I put on my favorite pair of pajamas—an oversized shirt from an old boyfriend and a worn pair of blue-plaid flannel bottoms from college. The outfit was atrocious, but a blanket of comfort wrap around me simply wearing it. I’d just sat on the couch with a pint of cookies and cream when a knock on my door resounded through my quiet living room. My muscles locked down in mid-motion. It couldn’t be Luca, I reminded myself.