Even though the windows were heavily tinted, I could see Emilio pulling into an underground garage of sorts. I had been so lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the building until we were already entering the garage. I imagined it was probably as beautiful as its name implied. I had looked up Kratos and, apparently, she was the personification of strength in Greek mythology.
It made sense.
The car came to a stop, Emilio got out of the car, and I waited patiently for him to open my door. That was one of the non-negotiable rules he informed me about when we were getting to know each other. And by getting to know each other, I mean him telling me the rules. And one of those rules were that I was never to exit a vehicle on my own. The door was to be opened for me, and if it wasn’t, there was a good reason for it. He also told me he wasn’t falling into the hands of The Son because I couldn’t follow simple rules. I assured him I could.
Emilio opened my door and took my hand, helping me out of the car. I smoothed my blouse down, opting to dress casual but nice enough. I wore tan strapped sandals, a matching gypsy skirt, and white flowy blouse. I had wanted to wear jeans, but my body was sore and I didn’t need denim rubbing up against my crotch. Luca’s size was a masterpiece to behold and my body was paying the price today.
I followed Emilio to a set of elevators where two guards stood. Before going inside, Emilio rendered me stupid as he told the guards. “Remy Christian. Commit her face to memory because she belongs to Luca Benetti.” The guards had given him a curt nod, but Emilio had to gently prod me along because I was frozen in shock at his statement.
I guess I wasn’t a hook-up after all.
I glanced at the elevator and saw that the building was only eight stories high. When the elevator came to an end on the top floor, Emilio walked out first and then motioned me forward. We stood in a breathtaking lobby of some sort with cushioned benches and a couple of tables set on either side of the room.
Emilio pointed to a panel next to a door. “That’s the only way you can get into Luca’s penthouse,” he said. “It’s accessed through a biotechnology that scans your palm to allow you access. I imagine Ciro will be getting you set up today.”
I looked up at Emilio. He was a big guy with dark brown hair and matching eyes. He looked scary, but he spoke matter of fact and I knew we’d probably never be friends. I was his job and his job mattered more to him than us becoming friends. “Don’t you have access?”
He shook his head. “The only people who have access to that door are The Holy Trinity, The Church, and Mrs. Robbie Mancini. I was allowed use of the elevator today due to your arrival.”
Yep.
We were not going to become friends. The sheer fact that he didn’t even call them by name told me he wasn’t familiar with them beyond doing his job. Or maybe he just wasn’t high enough on the food chain to address them so informally. Who knew?
A few seconds later, the doors opened and out walked Luca Benetti.
God, he looked good.
He walked right over to me, leaned down, and kiss the side of my face. “Hey, baby.”
I blushed.
He was treating me with such consideration today when, last night, he had called me his good little slut while he slammed his entire length inside my ass. I guess this is what he meant when he said, in public he’d be the gentleman, but in private I’d be his property.
“Hey,” I awkwardly returned.
He chuckled and gave Emilio a curt nod. “She’ll be in for the rest of the day unless Francesca makes other plans,” he said, dismissing him.
“Very well,” Emilio replied before heading back towards the elevator.
Luca looked down at me and, this time, his lips found mine, and he kissed me like he hadn’t seen me in years. “God, I missed you,” he breathed against my lips. “If I didn’t think Francesca would kill me, I’d kick them all out of my house right now to be with you.” I had heard the rumors that Francesca Fiore was his best friend and his casual reference to her confirmed it.
He grabbed my hand and tugged me along. “Come on,” he said as we passed the threshold into his penthouse. “I’ll give you a tour later, but if I don’t get you into the kitchen soon, Francesca really will kill me.” He grinned and my feet faltered.
A smiling Luca Benetti was a beautiful thing.
“Why?” I said, my head swiveling all over the place, trying to take in his grand home.
“She’s been dying to meet you since I told her about you,” he replied.
“What did you tell her,” I whispered-yelled, wondering if I was meeting these people as his girlfriend or his mistress.
“I told her I found the woman I am going to marry,” he said, matter of fact.
“What?!” I screeched. It was one thing to talk about forever when passions were taking over and making you crazy but talking marriage while everyone’s clothes were on was something else entirely.
I’d only met this man last week!
I heard a thundering clatter of footsteps and when I looked over, I almost fell
