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And it made my skin crawl.
“You okay?” Luca asked, slow to sit in the same chair Damian had so recently occupied. “That was… did you get a weird vibe just now, or was that just me?” His normally easygoing demeanor was a little stiff today.
Shit. That meant I didn’t do a good enough job of pretending everything was fine. I managed a smile in his direction. “I’m fine. A little sore, but okay. And I think it’s just you.” I squeezed the teddy bear tightly, as if wringing its neck could be a replacement for me doing the same to Rocco.
Death would be too good for that man.
“Oh, well, that’s good, I guess.” Luca studied me, an expression of concern on his face. “When I heard about what happened, I was worried about you.”
“I don’t know why.”
“You got shot, Giselle.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean, I don’t know why you were worried.”
Luca ran a hand down his face, letting out a soft chuckle. “Because you got shot. Because I… I like you, and I don’t want to see you hurt.” When I gave him a look, he added, “What? I’m not lying.”
“You don’t even know me,” I whispered, because it was true. Luca didn’t know me. We hadn’t spent much time together, and we certainly hadn’t spent any time alone. Being alone with him was… not something I wanted. I knew I shouldn’t judge him for the sins of his father, sins which he seemed oblivious of, but it was more difficult than I thought it would be.
Looking at Luca, staring into those dark eyes, I was reminded of that night. My skin itched. Where were my gloves when I needed them? Oh, right. I’d left them at the Playground after running away from the dragon man.
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have to know you to like you,” Luca said, and as ridiculous and as cheesy as that sounded, he came off sincere.
I didn’t say anything for a while, wondering if that’s what my father had wanted all along. Me, getting close to Luca and the other heirs, making them fall for me so I could use their feelings for me to our advantage. And by our advantage, I meant my father’s. Get information from them, get them to do things they otherwise wouldn’t.
It wasn’t that far-fetched of a possibility. If my father was anything, it was manipulative; the wheels in his head constantly turned, never at rest.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but if I were you, I’d want to know.” Luca paused, his chocolaty gaze falling to the teddy bear. “They’re saying you were shot by someone who wanted to take your father out of the running for the Hand.”
I just barely resisted rolling my eyes. “I already figured that one out, thanks.”
“Yeah, well, I hear Atticus is looking into the Cunninghams—they’re a family of assassins, you know. Killing people is kind of what they do.”
As Luca spoke, images of Cade Cunningham flashed in my head. A man of thirty-two, he was slightly older than the other heirs, and more than ten years older than me. Tall, blond, and quiet. From the very moment I’d met him, I’d sensed something was off about him. I’d been too busy assessing the other heirs at the time, but now that I knew the history of his family, it made sense.
“If they’re assassins, then I’m pretty sure I’d be dead if one of them went after me,” I said, frowning to myself. That didn’t mean they weren’t suspects; perhaps they’d hired someone else to do the job so they could have some kind of plausible deniability.
“Yeah, that’s what my father said. I don’t know what he and your father are working on, but I think their top priority is finding out who tried to kill you.” Luca’s jaw tensed, and he ran his hand through his brown hair. “And getting on the Hand, obviously.”
“Obviously.” He stared at me, and I was slow to meet that stare and ask, “What?”
“I just… I don’t like seeing you like this. It makes me feel—” He gave me a sheepish smile. “—all sorts of things that probably aren’t smart.” He went to sit down beside me, rattling on, “Take the guy who tried to kill you, for instance. Seeing you in this hospital bed makes me think of all the things I would do to that guy if I ever got my hands on him.” One toothy grin was sent my way. “I might be charmingly adorable most times, but I can flip a switch.”
The way he said it made me laugh, even if it wasn’t a funny subject. “Oh, yeah?” I asked. “I think I’d like to see that.” The moment I said it, I realized how one could take it: flirtatious. I didn’t mean to flirt with him, and I hoped he didn’t think that I liked him back or anything.
That… that would be just too complicated. Kind of like whatever the hell was going on with me and Zander. Needless to say, I didn’t need any more complications in my life.
“Maybe you will,” Luca said, still smiling. His teeth were perfectly white and straight, and his smile was the kind of smile that made girls swoon and knees grow weak. If things were different, maybe that smile would’ve made me grab for the nearest stable wall to hold onto, but as things were now, with me laid up in a hospital bed, I didn’t swoon like some girl with a crush.
I didn’t have crushes. Sure, I could say a guy was objectively attractive, but that was about it. Just because I’d gone to the Playground and had sex with a stranger—twice—didn’t mean I was suddenly cured of my anxieties when it came to the thought of being vulnerable with a man and letting him in.
I was Giselle Santos, and therefore I couldn’t trust anyone.
I didn’t know how long Luca was there with me, how long we talked. It wasn’t as if we got into any serious subject, but Luca kept throwing me smiles, and I kept rolling my eyes at him. As much as I hated his father, Luca wasn’t bad. There were worse guys to be around. The way he stared at me, though, gave me an uneasy feeling in my gut sometimes, like if he was given the chance, he’d gladly take a night with me, too.
But maybe that was just something that was universal when it came to men. A pretty, young girl? Of course they wanted to fuck her. They were men. It was hardwired into their brains, into their bodies. Nature demanded it.
Anyways, it was a while. By the time my father returned with Rocco and Zander, Luca was talking about some party he’d throw once I got out of here. He must enjoy his parties. When you had money, having a job, doing things most normal people did, was out of the question. What was the point of having money when you couldn’t spend it on trivial shit, like parties for every single occasion?
