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“I wouldn’t consider you anything more.”
My jaw drops at his absolute certainty. “You are such an arrogant, entitled prick. Do you know that?”
He charms a smile that would knock most women off their feet. “A prick you were begging only thirty minutes ago to fuck.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks.
He taps his knee again.
I sigh, pushing up from my chair and circling the table. Because despite his ridiculous demands, unless I’m willing to jump overboard, I know this man won’t take no for an answer.
I sit on his knee and try to ignore the heat and spicy cologne that radiates from him. He snaps his fingers, and within seconds, the butler reappears. He picks up my plate of pasta and places it in front of me. With efficiency, Luca twirls a forkful.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to not eat a dish served in somone’s home,” he says as he hovers the pasta in front of my mouth.
“This is a boat,” I say dryly.
“This is a boat house I own. Therefore, it’s a home.”
We could go around like this in circles for hours. I sigh and push back part of my hair as I take a mouthful.
Flavor explodes in my mouth. He smiles knowingly.
“Okay yes, it’s good.”
“Good now that’s done.” He clicks his fingers. Seconds later, the butler walks up the staircase of where I imagine the kitchen to be downstairs. A candle and sparkler light a small white cake. My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I look at Luca.
“What is this?” I ask, my voice barely audible. Because suddenly, I remember what day it is.
“Happy Birthday,” Luca says as the butler pushes aside the main meals and places the cake in front of us.
Luca’s hand rests on my knee, his thumb casually rolling over it. I stare at the sparkler as it dwindles down to nothing.
I forgot it was my birthday. More specifically, I forgot because I haven’t celebrated it for sixteen years.
“Happy twenty-eighth birthday. It’s good luck to make a wish,” he says matter-of-fact. He leans into my ear, his hot breath flushing over my neck. “Don’t bother wasting your wish on me losing interest any time soon.”
My heart slightly fractures. For the memories buried deep in celebrating my last birthday with my mother when I was twelve. For my avoidance of it ever since. Luca surely couldn’t know that. He’s not a mind reader.
Even so, why would he go so far as to do all of this when he knows I’m targeting his family?
The sparkler fades leaving only the flickering candle.
“Leave us,” Luca commands when he notices my hesitation. The butler and Lorenzo make haste. “Make a wish, Ara.”
A lump is lodged in my throat and I can’t seem to push past it. “Why did you do this?” I ask confused.
“Well, I’m not a complete monster,” he says, but I can tell even he doesn’t believe himself.
I consider him for a moment. If my reluctance is too evident, it’s something he can use against me.
I push my hair back and lean over the candle. What should I wish for?
The only thing I’ve wished for over the past sixteen years.
I wish to kill the man who killed my mother.
