Donovan (Face-Off 3)

I flicked my fingers under my jaw and smirked at the asshole. “Vaffanculo!”

Most of the time, I cursed in Italian, sort of a habit I’d picked up while growing up at Rinaldi Manor. Swear words sounded better in another language.

Luca laughed, shaking his head at me, intrigued. I stomped off toward Silvia. She was waiting for me with an impish grin, her back resting against a flagpole, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Wow!” Silvia’s mouth dropped open in awe. “That was pretty crazy, huh? And, now, Luca Marchese is over there, defending your honor. Never thought I’d see that.”

I turned around to see Luca with his fists full of the boy’s shirt, and I gulped. Because of my insane outburst, this stranger now had Luca’s fraternity brothers surrounding him. Damn it.

I sifted through the group just in time to hear Luca threatening him. The two of them were going at it in an attempt to counter the other. I had a feeling Luca was not used to anyone challenging him.

“That’s enough.” I touched Luca’s forearm.

He glanced at me. “Not until he apologizes.” He released his shirt and stepped back. He pivoted his foot, half-facing the boy and me, as if torn between where he wanted to be.

At the murderous look in his eyes and the heat behind his words, a strange pulse of electricity situated itself between my thighs. I wasn’t sure if my hands were sweating from the heat or the nervous energy shooting through my entire body.

The fountain girls watched him and studied me, their arms folded across their chests. I felt as though I were under a giant microscope. The vicious daggers these girls shot at me made me wonder if they would tackle me to get to him.

Well, they could have him. Rich assholes like Luca were a dime a dozen at this school. And I’d had my fair share of drama over the years. I didn’t need any more.

When I refused to respond, Luca said, “Bella, he owes you an apology.” He shot the guy a pained expression. “Don’t you? Now, tell her you’re sorry. Nod your fucking head, and spit it out.”

“Don’t call me Bella,” I said, my jaw tensed in anger. “You lost the right years ago.”

“You’re beautiful. I’m just stating a fact, gorgeous.” Luca winked, one side of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile.

He pulled the same Greek-lettered shirt his brothers wore from the waistband of his black basketball shorts. As he wiped his face with it, I couldn’t help but stare.

“Sorry,” the boy grumbled.

Luca folded his arms across his chest, engaged in a stare-down with the crazy person in front of him, before turning toward me. “What kind of man would I be if I let him talk to a woman like that? You shouldn’t settle.”

“I’m not,” I snapped back. “I know how to choose my battles, and this isn’t one of them.” I waved my hand at the stranger. “Apology accepted. Just go!”

Luca cocked an eyebrow at me. The guy might have been an ass for almost running me down, but he did not deserve anything Luca had in mind. I knew all about his family and their connections. If the guy had even a hint of who Luca was, he would have kept his mouth shut. Nobody stepped up to a Marchese unless they wanted to end up at the bottom of the Delaware River. By shooing him away, I might have saved his life without him realizing it.

Smart enough to leave this time, the boy started walking toward his car.

With wide-eyed curiosity, Luca took a step back. “Looks like you owe me now, princess.”

At the sound of his husky voice, I stopped in my tracks. I wasn’t about to owe the son of the most dangerous man in Philadelphia a thing.

His brothers didn’t even pretend not to stare down my shirt, but that wasn’t what angered me.

“I don’t owe you shit.” I crossed my arms over my chest, deciding whether I wanted to walk away. But I could not let him win on principle alone. “How much did you give him? My wallet is in my car.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, unaffected. “You can find another way to show me your appreciation.”

“Che schifo!” I damn near spit on the ground, throwing my hand out at him in disgust.

“Babe, I’m not that bad.” He stared at my thighs and flashed a panty-dropper grin. “Trust me, I don’t repulse you. Not even a little bit.”

I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out my nose. “Think whatever you want. I don’t need your charity. I’m good for it.”

He smirked. “I know you are, princess, but I don’t want your money.”

“Fine,” I huffed, not the least bit entertained. “I guess I’ll have to find another way to pay you back. Come by Mickey’s. I’m going there with some friends later.”