The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

“My therapist says drugs don’t fix problems, they only prolong them.” Now, I only used blow when the loneliness seemed darker than the guilt of a high.

“He did, did he? Just how much are you sharing with him, Gianna?”

“Just all the sordid details of your life.”

He grunted. “Must keep him entertained.”

“Or nauseous,” I retorted.

He made a noise of amusement and then hung up.

I pulled my legs to my chest, rested my head against the wall, and once again waited for a man to save me from a problem another created.

Luca stepped off the elevator twenty minutes later, large form, crisp gray suit, and all. I didn’t look at him as I stated matter-of-factly, “There are two-thousand-twenty-two bricks in that wall.”

He was amused. “If I wasn’t wondering that exact thing myself, I’d say you live a sad life, Gianna.”

“Ha ha.”

While he changed the bulb, I flipped on every light in the apartment for simple peace of mind. “You want a beer?” I asked.

“No.”

I got one for myself and plopped onto the couch. As I went to take the first drink, the beer was ripped from my hands. I sighed.

“Really?”

Luca took a pull on the bottle and sat beside me. He was a large man and didn’t care how much space he took up. Rather than feeling like a sardine in a can, I stretched out my legs, resting them across his.

“We need to have a chat.” He rested an arm across my thighs, his eyes coasting around the living room.

“About?”

“Well, first off, your marriage—or lack thereof—with Richard, and your ever-growing relationship with Vincent Monroe.”

I sighed, knowing I was in trouble. “I would love to discuss that with you, but, gosh, I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” I tried to jump to my feet, but he grabbed one of my thighs, making me choose to fall back to the couch rather than awkwardly to the floor.

“People are talking, Gianna.”

I stole my beer back. “Why do you care if people talk?”

“Ace is getting married, and we need to keep up appearances with the Abellis.”

“Oh yeah. Poor Adriana.” I pouted my lips and took a sip.

“You will attend the luncheon this Sunday with Richard.”

“Yes, sir.” I rolled my eyes.

“And this thing with Vincent needs to cool down. Fast.” His gaze went hard. “Or I will cool it down for you.”

“I promise you, there’s no fire where Vincent is concerned.” A part of me wished there was—to be swept up in an intense affair, one in which we’d both rather die than be without each other. A part of me ached for it, while the other didn’t believe in fairy tales.

“Where there’s Gianna, there’s fire,” Luca muttered, pushing my legs off him and getting to his feet.

“Thank you, Luca.”

He made a noise of acknowledgment and shut the door behind him.