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“I bet you could have,” the man said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a perfectly folded handkerchief.
With hesitation, Layla took it and wiped her mouth.
“I’m Gabbriello, Gabbriello Deluca.”
“Layla Bancroft.”
Shit, I gave him my real name.
Too late to take it back now.
As the man reached out a hand toward her, she reluctantly grabbed his palm and, like before, she felt the energy surge between them as their hands touch. Despite his hand being larger than hers, it was like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. His hands were massive, and she wondered what it would be like having his hands on her body. Would it be pleasurable? Would it be painful? Or, better yet, would it be both? She imagined him pushing her up against the wall and using one hand to grip her leg and the other gripping her ass so tightly, she would have bruises marking where he had been. The thought made Layla flush.
After a few seconds of silence passed, Layla realized she was still holding his hand. She forced herself to let go. His eyes peered into her soul as he held her stare. Could he tell what she was thinking? What would it be like to touch him? To kiss him. To fuck him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Gabbriello said, interrupting her thoughts. “Look, I’m sorry about the behavior of my employees. I promise you, they will be reprimanded.”
I’m going to personally break their jaws or hand or both for attacking a woman without just cause. He thought.
“Please allow me to pay for a new outfit.”
Layla looked down and saw her white button-up shirt and her dark brown blazer covered in dirt, blood, and vomit, and the top two buttons were missing. She felt a wave of discomfort pass over her. Even though she knew there was an active investigation on Gabbriello Deluca, she wondered if all the rumors she heard were true.
This man helped her out of a fight and now wanted to buy her new clothes. It seems like a far cry from the relentless monster everyone said he was. The one thing she learned over the past five years of being an agent is that no one was ever what they seemed. “Thanks, but no thanks. I can take care of myself,” she replied.
“Please,” Gabbriello pleaded. The corner of his lips formed a half smile as one of his eyebrows raises curiously. Suddenly, his dark eyes turn from dangerous intensity to a kind stranger only wanting to help. “I want to do this. My place is right across the street.”
Layla shut down any seductive thought about him and allowed her anger to rise out of the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t a charity case, and she needed to get more information about her cousin. “Thank you, but I don’t need your help. I appreciate what you did, but I’m fine now.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Gabbriello’s expression was emotionless. “I insist. My hotel is just across the street.”
“Your hotel?” Layla asked, surprised.
“Yes, the Deluca hotel.”
That’s right, she knew they owned a hotel. It was in the file they had on him.
Gabbriello turned around to the entrance of the alley and walked toward the sunlight. Layla followed him and heard the vibrant life of the city as she approached the main street. Gabbriello stopped as they approached the end of the alley and looked up at his large hotel standing tall across the street. It was several stories high, and the intricate architecture reflected the high-end luxury of the Center City District.
Layla immediately recognized the building as the Deluca hotel. Every time she passed the beautiful skyscraper, she always wanted to go inside. It was the kind of hotel for wealthy people or someone wanting to spend an evening there for special occasions.
“That’s your place?” Layla asked as she tried to act surprised.
“Yes,” Gabbriello responded, as he looked at her. “My family owns it.” He paused before continuing. “Layla, I want to apologize again for those men’s behavior. You are more than welcome to shower, change into some new clothes, and stay as long as you like here.”
As much as Layla wanted to refuse his request because she knew there would be hell to pay if her boss found out, but she struggled with passing up the opportunity. After an altercation like that, she felt the need to clear her head before dealing with her family. Besides, it may be the only time she would ever see the inside of one of the Deluca Hotel suites. Would one hour be so bad?
Gabbriello led the way as Layla followed close behind. The elderly doorman, dressed in traditional bellhop uniform, quickly opened the door for the two of them.
“Mr. Deluca, good to see you,” the doorman said, giving Gabbriello a bright smile.
“Good morning, Ronnie.”
Layla walked through the glass door. “Wow, very nice,” she said out loud, unable to contain her surprise.
Gabbriello smirked as they continued to walk.
The hotel lobby was filled with people wanting to check in and those who needed to check out. The administrative staff were all wearing professional attire as they helped the guests. To the left of the lobby was a lounge area with chairs and couches, as well as a refreshment area with a full bar. In the center of the lobby sat a large spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. Layla looked up to see a huge glass chandelier made up of diamond cut glass. She became painfully aware of how she didn’t fit in. Her clothes were dirty and ripped. She pulled her jacket tighter to cover the missing buttons.
