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“Am I a hassle?”
This earns me a smirk. “Well, you’re already in danger.”
“So might as well?”
At this, the smirk disappears, his gaze locking onto mine with unwavering seriousness that makes my breath hitch. “You’re more than that, Lila, and you know it.”
I give him a playful grin as he leans into my palm. “Do I? It’s only been a few days.” Then I drop the one issue we’ve been skirting around. “Besides, I’m your stepsister.”
Luca doesn’t even miss a beat. “We’re not related by blood.”
“Doesn’t it feel a bit awkward, though? Mom married your dad.”
Luca chuckles. “Should’ve thought of that before you rode my cock and screamed my name as you came. A bit too late for awkwardness, don’t you think?”
I smack his chest, but it’s like hitting a brick wall. “Very ungentlemanly of you to say that.”
He stands from the slouch and begins stepping forward, forcing me to stagger back. “What made you think I was a gentleman in the first place?”
Luca grips the back of my thighs to lift me to him, leaving me scrambling for something to hold on to, and kisses me. Just like that, I forget everything else.
As someone with insecurities as deep as the Mariana Trench, knowing I affect someone like Luca this way is a huge ego boost. He loves the curves Mom made fun of. He doesn’t mind my soft belly or thick thigh. On the contrary, he spends so much time exploring my body with his tongue and mouth and cock that he has managed to bury whatever thoughts I have that drag down my self-esteem.
With Luca, I feel like a brand new woman. I feel like someone worthy of affection, of intimacy, of … love.
Is it too soon to think of that? For him, maybe or maybe not. But me? I can deny it all I want, but I know deep down, I’m falling for him … fast and hard.
5
LUCA
If there’s any indication that I’m getting more and more attached to Lila, it’s the strange tug in my belly after I close the front door behind me. The realization that I don’t want to leave her—not even for a few hours—has me questioning my entire existence.
Attachment has never been a problem, which is why this life suited me. I live in a suitcase, spending most of my time either in airports or hotel rooms, and that’s fine.
Or it was.
But whatever. I can dissect these feelings once I’m done with this particular errand.
Rule #1: Tie up loose ends.
That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve spent the last two days eliminating possible suspects, which isn’t easy to do given how many people dear ole Dad scammed out of their pension or retirement funds or life savings.
I’m left with two men, both involved in some serious shady shit.
The first one lost five million to Dad, but after going through his finances, lifestyle, and vices, he’s not the guy. He likes his money—his three mistresses do too—but he doesn’t use a lot of muscle, just three bodyguards he surrounds himself with.
The second one, however, piques my interest.
Darin Dalton. Thirty-two years old. Worth eighty million dollars. Dabbles in all things illegal—pretty much anything and everything that can make him north of a million. Has a compound full of private military contractors.
And Dad was stupid enough to scam him twenty million.
What the fuck was he thinking? He knew he would have a target on his back the moment he ran off with Dalton’s money.
Then again, that’s Dad. He never thinks, just does whatever he wants, and fucks off everyone else—even his own family.
Especially his own family.
