Luca's Dilemma (18 page)

“Annndd, what does all this have to do with the price of pasta?”

“What I’m trying to say, man, is even though what we do is dangerous and I could easily be killed, undoubtedly taking my mom’s heart with me in the process, hitting was just something I had to do. Just like you.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Drago shrugged, gesturing toward the ceiling with his palms.

“Tyler deserves to meet his father, even if said father is a complete asshole. It’s up to us to help our loved ones achieve the goals that are important to them… sometimes even when they conflict with what we want for them. We’ll always want to protect them. But times like this call for our support, not necessarily our protection.”

“Oh, I get it,” Drago said, nodding. “Just like the situation between you and Sheila, huh?”

Luca bit his tongue. He knew his face was turning red by the mischievous grin slowly forming across Drago’s sardonic mug, that blond eyebrow reaching toward his hairline.

“Relax, Lulu. I get what you’re saying. I don’t have to like Steven being here… in my aunt and uncle’s house… with my brother,” Drago continued, gripping the now empty water bottle so it crinkled loudly in his large hand. “However, I do have to support Tyler. I’ve waited too long to be a part of his life. I’m not going to ruin things between us now.

“But, seriously, you need to take your own advice,” Drago stated, once again bringing the conversation back to Luca’s love life. “And speaking of Aunt Hilde being upset about your career choice, how does Sheila feel about it?”

“She doesn’t know yet. I am to her as I am to everyone else, the horse whisperer slash graphic designer next door.”

“Are you gonna tell her? I mean Evy knows about the family business, of course, and respects it because Tyler doesn’t really play much of a role in it, and Rie is just as much a part of it as we are. Not only do you run the risk of Sheila not liking it, you also have to decide whether or not to enlighten her about the bounty on her head. You’d be taking a risk by telling her, but it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to continue a serious relationship or start off a marriage with less than total honesty.

“On top of all that, you have to swear her to secrecy if you do tell her. Remember, many know of us, but few know who we actually are for a reason. We can’t have her blabbing about the
Tenshi Ansatsusha
, even to her family. Do you think this woman is ready to handle all that, or am I wasting my breath? You haven’t mentioned anything long term.”

Luca chewed over Drago’s words. “You’re right. I haven’t mentioned marriage, if that’s what you’re getting at. I do plan on marrying her. I just haven’t asked her yet.” He failed to mention that Sheila hadn’t vocally returned his declaration of love. Intuition told him that wasn’t an issue. Deep in his heart, Luca knew he didn’t deserve her, but he’d be damned if he’d give her up.

“I have no doubt she could handle my career, or should I say my somewhat past career since I rarely go out on assignments anymore,” he stated with confidence. “But I’m not gonna put her through the dread of knowing some asshole wants her dead. Right now she’s fragile. Between her ex and her old job, she’s been through enough bullshit lately.”

Drago nodded. “Is that why you believe she’s innocent in all this… because you feel sorry for her?”

“No,” Luca answered, shaking his head indignantly. “It’s the way she talks to me. Sheila’s a very private person, but that’s just a manifestation of her upbringing, not any deviousness or treachery. Once I gained her trust, she opened up, told me all there is to know about her. Nothing led me to believe she would voluntarily piss someone off to the degree of viewing her as a threat. I have no doubt she’s clueless about the whole thing. That’s why I think it best to keep her in the dark for now. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my suspicions about what might be going down.”

“So if you think she’s not ready to know about that side of you now, what makes you think she’ll be able to handle it later?”

Luca ran a hand through his hair, not sure if he should confess his latest slip–up to his cousin. “I got a little carried away when her ex showed up at her house last Saturday. The bastard had the audacity to put his hands on my woman in
my
house.”

“Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid… like kill him in front of her, maybe?” Drago’s brows knitted together as he eyed Luca suspiciously.

“Almost,” Luca answered honestly, his lips puckered into a pout. “I sure as hell wanted to. Actually, I’m still considering it.” He fisted and rubbed his hands together, recalling how good it had felt being so close to ridding Sheila of the arrogant bastard.

“Dude! You can’t go around ridding the world of every boyfriend she’s ever had.”

“Why the hell not?” Luca shouted, causing Drago to laugh. “But that is one of the interesting things about her,” he continued, feeling a smile cross his face. He hadn’t missed the way Sheila’s eyes had glazed over with lust when he refused to stop choking the shit out of that dickhead. “She wasn’t afraid of that side of me at all, or anything else about me for that matter. For goodness sake, man, she didn’t even bat an eye when she kicked me out of bed this morning. Damn, it was cold in that house!”

“Oh, man up and stop bitching about how cold you were. I can’t believe you.” Drago shook his head in amusement. “Gotta say, she sounds like a keeper, bro. But what’s your plan to get back in her good graces?”

Chapter 15

The bountiful sunny skies of Southern California greeted Sheila as she debarked from the small plane resting on the private runway. She inhaled deeply, sucking in the warmth of the climate, which contradicted the arrival of Thanksgiving Day, yet aided tremendously in pushing all thoughts of one Luca Moriatti to the back of her mind. Such a task had not been easy. Lately, it seemed every last thought was of the gorgeous Italian and that sinfully fine body of his. She’d spent four days going over every inch of taut muscle and golden skin while giving in completely to his wonderful ability to play her body like a classical instrument.

The elaborate tattoo had been a surprise. Although she’d seen him shirtless at the lab, his back had been away from her. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a Harley rider, but the image of him straddling one of the powerful bikes had only served to feed her passion. She’d traced the outline of the large wings with the tips of her fingers and mouth, immensely enjoying the way his muscles responded under her delicate ministrations.

Sheila felt her smile slipping away. For four glorious days and nights, all had been perfect in their private little world. They had cooked together, eaten together, showered together. It’d been so right, so nice. Then, just like that, her prince charming had morphed into a full–fledged Neanderthal. Why did he have to go and do that after she’d fallen so deeply in love with him? She’d never truly felt or said such words to any man outside the family and was grateful for at least being smart enough to have kept those feelings to herself.

“Dodged that bullet,” Sheila mumbled.

“Did you say something, Shi?” Mr. Kelly asked. Thick, white eyebrows pinched together over the bemused mahogany orbs staring at Sheila in the rearview mirror.

“No, sir. Just letting out a breath,” she politely fibbed, not meaning to disturb the man who had been chauffeur to her family ever since she could remember.

Sheila kicked herself after realizing the hunky pain in the ass had pilfered her thoughts yet again. Turning her focus on the passing scenery, she began to ponder what potentially lay ahead for the next few days. It had been awhile since she spent time at the Leigh’s vacation home, now her parents’ permanent place of residence, and she was actually looking forward to a break from the frigid temperatures of Maine.

“So how’s life treating you, Mr. Kelly?” she asked as a ploy to divert her thoughts from the man she missed more than sunshine.

“Oh, very well, thank you. Your parents have been so ecstatic about your impending visit no one can be around them and not be affected by their superb spirits.” A wide smile spread across his walnut–colored face.

She felt the warmth of the day anew with this tidbit of information, and Sheila readily welcomed the increase in the wattage of her smile. Throughout her whole life, her parents had been nothing short of loving. It was that love for her and their failure to comprehend her need to live her own life that had created a rift in their parent–daughter relationship and resulted in her avoidance. Perhaps Mr. Kelly’s summary was a sign things would be different this time.

***

“Daddy, please don’t kill him!” Sheila pleaded with her furious father. Her arms ached from embracing a weeping Thelma Leigh in one and supporting an unconscious Lacy Burnet with the other. The comatose woman was getting heavy. Sheila’s arm had fallen asleep a while ago, but all the other available hands were too busy trying to unhinge her father’s hands from around her ex–boyfriend’s throat to render aid.

This had to be the craziest Thanksgiving on record. Within seconds of entering her parents’ sprawling Malibu estate, the warmth of the weather had disintegrated into the icy bitterness inherent to upper–crust society. Sheila’s parents and the Burnets had greeted her in the massive foyer with obsequious hugs and praises for her conjectural engagement.

Dumbfounded, she’d shifted her gaze beyond the grown folk’ to the large open living room where, to her utter surprise, a boneheaded Ahmed lingered by the fireplace, wetting his audacious palate, no doubt with a snifter of her daddy’s finest bourbon. She was too stunned at his presence to completely comprehend the goings–on around her. Although separated by several yards, she could see the smug smile on his face.

With a raise of his glass, Ahmed winked at her.

That’s it! This fool dun lost his ever–loving mind.

No way was Sheila going to play this silly game, giving her no other choice but to enlighten the elders. As Sheila began her tale, the broad smiles and glee–filled eyes of those surrounding her morphed into gaping holes and eyes filled with disbelief and horror akin to Edvard Munch’s
The Scream
. Obviously the facetious smile Sheila managed to keep in place while recounting the happenings of the last year served to fool Ahmed, who obviously had not a clue as to what she was relaying.

Little had Sheila known the events to follow would leave her wondering if all the great men in her life had an affinity for Ahmed’s thick neck. A loud growl was the only warning issued before the male Leigh took off after the unsuspecting younger Burnett like a ferret gone mad. The younger man’s eyes widened to comical proportions upon realizing his life was in danger… again. At least this time the fool had sense enough to practice self–preservation. Ahmed actually got a pretty good run out of Sheila’s father before the older man cornered him in the large dining room where they were presently working to keep Ahmed alive and Calvin Leigh Sr. out of jail. Boy, could her dad move fast for his age and size.

“You trifling son–of–a–bitch!” Calvin Leigh’s deep voice boomed throughout the large room, causing all present to visibly flinch. The angry man refused to relinquish his stronghold around the younger man’s neck while simultaneously crushing him against the hard planes of the cherry–colored wall. “I’ll kill you dead, you lying little bastard!”

At the sound of her husband’s anger, Thelma Leigh wailed and swooned in Sheila’s arm, magnifying the arduous task of holding up both women. Sheila knew how much her mother detested cussing in her home, even when the situation warranted it.

“Calvin, please!” Ahmed Sr. implored. “Let me take care of this. I swear I hadn’t a clue my son had lied to us or possessed the capability to do such reprehensible things to your daughter.”

The elder Burnett, Mr. Kelly, and Charles, the head cook, worked fanatically to free his son, who was starting to turn purple. With the arrival of Shawn, the butler, the men were finally successful in freeing the scumbag, who fell on all fours, his body wrenching as he gasped for air. The whole scenario shouted “déjà vu” to Sheila.

“Let go of me!” Calvin Leigh thundered, the sound of his deep baritone ricocheting off the walls.

With fear–filled eyes, those who held him obeyed instantaneously.

Mr. Leigh righted his cream, custom–made suit before turning to the elder Mr. Burnet. “Get your shit… get your family… and get the hell out of my house,” he stated, jabbing one large, thick index finger toward the floor with each sentence. His voice was eerily calm, broaching no room for argument and bringing to mind the other alpha male in Sheila’s life.

Without a word, a gray–and–white pinstriped blur that was the junior Burnet scrambled from the floor and dashed from the room with a quickness. For such an intelligent person, that had to be the smartest thing he’d done in years. Sheila hoped he’d take the near–death experience more seriously this time and that she wouldn’t be seeing the jerk she once thought to spend the rest of her life with, ever again. Maybe she should’ve let Luca finish him off.

Mr. Burnet interrupted her vile thoughts when he approached with caution to collect his wife. “I’m so sorry,” he mouthed. The sincerity in his pleading eyes and the fine sheen of sweat on the handsome man’s bald head made Sheila tear up.

“How deplorable!” her mother lamented after the remainder of the Burnet family departed. “To think of what that Burnet boy put my baby through… put his own parents through.”

Sheila’s dad took over the comforting of his wife. “It’s okay, dear. We’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.” He turned sad eyes on Sheila. “Baby girl, why didn’t you confide in us sooner?”

The pain in her father’s amber pools instantly lodged a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I know how much you respect the Burnets, and I didn’t want to encroach upon that.”

The long lineage of Leigh bankers and Burnet entrepreneurs had been allies for ages. As two of the only African–American families in the world with billionaire status, they had forged a mighty fortress during times of racial inequality and the depression, expanding their individual dynasties from California to Georgia and everywhere in between. That conglomeration had helped both families maintain their elite status, especially in the south, where both dynasties had been targeted because of their success.