She slammed her hand against her cherrywood desk and rose to her feet, almost knocking her chair down in the process.
“Don,” Luca whispered harshly, cutting right into her words.
“To them you’re a Don because of me! You remember that shit and watch how the fuck you speak to me, Di Lucas Dontrell Bonetti!” She spat his entire name out nastily.
“I paid lots of money for you to breathe freedom! I sat in rooms feeling like I was licking the dirt off the bottom of niggas shoes just to?—”
“Fuck that…” He whispered out painfully. “And fuck you too… If you got to mention what you did, then you shouldn’t… have done it.” He finished his words then went back to silence.
Luca hadn’t exercised his voice box like this in years. It was painful to say the least. He needed tea, pain medication, and to close his eyes and rest for a proper reset.
“Luca,” Lucille’s voice softened.
She needed to reel her son back in and bring him down to her level of understanding, but it already was too late for that. She licked her lips and started to speak but stopped abruptly when the door cracked open slowly. Luca instinctively reached for his gun at his waist then turned toward the hushed sound of the door. Lucille’s eyes flicked in the same direction of her son without an ounce of surprise.
There was only one person she trusted enough to enter her office space without making an appointment to speak with her. La’Nova Reign. Lucille depended on her in her absence and in her presence. She made things easier on the queen, and whenever her plate tipped over, La’Nova kept it afloat.
La’Nova gave Lucille her eyes, unaware and unbothered by Luca’s presence. She didn’t acknowledge him, nor did she give him her eyes.
“Boss lady, I need you to speak with one of your special guests about his conduct with some House of Angel women,” La’Nova’s words came out rushed.
She had meetings to go to, women to check up on, and payroll to look over. Lucille’s jaw clenched out of annoyance. Luca’s heart beat stuttered. La’Nova’s appearance hit him in the chest and put a pause on all of his different internal emotions. He took histime to take in the confidence that reeked from La’Nova down to her swollen feet that rested on top of wedged heels.
The House of Angels collar shirt hugged her just right, crisp and white against her toffee skin. He eyed the way she perfectly rolled up her sleeves, exposing her wrist and gold Apple watch. Her scent reached his nose; he frowned as he inhaled her again. She smelled sweet and soft like vanilla layered with a smoky spicy smell.
He took in her well-rounded figure. Luca’s eyes gazed at the curve of her stomach the way it rested above the top of her thighs conveniently. Her kinky brown hair was in twisties stopping right at her shoulders. La’Nova turned her head to glance at Luca, causing his mouth to fall slightly ajar.
Beautiful heart-shaped face… Luca thought.
He took in her big doe-shaped eyes and light gray eyes. Then his eyes landed on her scar. He took note of how long and deep it was. Starting from the middle of her hairline and running straight down to the bridge of her nose. It was like her aura reached him before her body did, and it wrapped around his chest in a way that made him inhale deeper than he had in months.
He replayed the sound of her voice in his head. It was authoritative but soft. Luca couldn’t deny the way La’Nova’s presence calmed the rage that coiled in his chest. He didn’t understand what she was doing to him and that bothered him. He couldn’t stop studying her. She felt like a dose of medicine that offered a temporary relief to the pain he felt inside of him.
Lucille shifted uncomfortably in her seat then cleared her throat. She could see and feel the chemistry that radiated between herson and assistant. She placed her focus on Luca and couldn’t believe how his dominating aura softened at the sight of La’Nova.
Not possible…Lucille thought with raised brows.
“La’Nova, this is my son…Di Lucas Bonetti.” She smiled in her best professional voice.
La’Nova wanted to roll her eyes but resisted the disrespect and acknowledged Luca with a small smile and nod of her head. She then took him in and the same way she took in everything else. He didn’t look like money, didn’t even smell like cologne. No tailored suit or polished shoes. He just stood still, looking at her like a creep in pressed Dickie pants and a plain white shirt. His dreads fell forward, shadowing most of his face, only revealing his full beard. There was a roughness to him; he looked dangerous and well in shape with muscles that he couldn’t conceal if he wanted to.
This was the brother that Kentrell hated, the one that remained behind bars that she never got to meet. She wondered would he become a regular visitor at House of Angels and what was his story since Kentrell had so many fucked up things to say about him.
The way he stared at her made her skin tingle though. She felt his assessing eyes like she was a problem to him that he hadn’t yet solved. La’Nova shifted her weight slightly, crossed her arms over her chest, guarding herself. They had a silent stare off, eyes locked on one another for seconds that felt like hours until the intensity of his eyes that peeked through his thick matted dreads made her uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t immediately name.
Something wrong with this nigga…must run in the family.She thought, inwardly rolling her eyes a thousand times. She uncrossed her arms, then stuffed her shaky hands inside of her pant pockets. She licked her lips, took her eyes off of Luca then focused back on Lucille. She was ready to get the hell up out of dodge to smoke a cigarette while taking care of the business that paid her.
“Boss lady.” She cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I have?—”
Luca lifted his hands, never taking his eyes off La’Nova as he signed quickly and decisively.
“She. Will. Be. My Wife.”
Lucille stiffened as she looked at Luca with disbelief.
“What?” She asked aloud.
Her brows knitted together as she looked between them in confusion. Luca refused to repeat himself. He finally took his eyes off La’Nova and offered his mother a pensive stare that she couldn’t really see because of his locs.
