Chapter 4 - Max

I wasn’t back from the mini emergency in the kitchen for ten seconds when I saw my woman tangled up in the arms of another man. And not just any other man, but fucking Luca Ross, who I’d been butting heads with since college. Some might have called him a rival, but he wasn’t on my level, nor would I ever sink to his, so I didn’t consider him that. Not really an enemy, either, but someone I didn’t trust as far as I could throw the bastard.

Back when Luca was still Luca Rossi, and just another starving actor, I was learning the ropes of the family business. While I was making contacts all over the place, he was weaseling his way into any role that was up for grabs. He used any means necessary to get what he wanted, and before I saw what an actual scumbag he was, I used some of my newly formed contacts in the industry to get him one of his first important breaks.

I respected anyone who worked hard for a living and obviously couldn’t get on a high horse about what means they used to get ahead. Shady Dealings was my middle name. But Luca wasn’t just shady in his dealings, he was a monstrous narcissist who threw temper tantrums when he didn’t get his way, stepped on everyone in his orbit, and, worst of all, in my eyes, disrespected women to the point it might be considered abusive. No one had yet come out with a big tell-all story, but the women who’d been unfortunate enough to get into and out of relationships with him had the look in their eyes of old Vietnam vets.

It was only a suspicion, and I didn’t have proof, but I still had plenty of other reasons to hate the guy. We stayed cordial and acted like friends because that was how things worked in this town. I had a lot of dealings with people in the lucrative film industry, and it was better not to rock the boat.

I wasn’t thinking about any of that when I saw that smarmy asshole’s hands on my girl’s waist, pulling her close like he was trying to sniff her or something. My first instinct was to shut the whole place down, stop the music, and burn the dancefloor. Thankfully, I went with my second, which was to storm over and wrench him off of her, flinging him toward the bar. It was only my long-practiced self-control that kept me from breaking his famous nose.

Brooke looked flustered, upset, and embarrassed as she scrambled off the dancefloor. The crowd was only mildly curious, too caught up in the live music to care much, and too used to scuffles like this breaking out due to the constant high drama of being surrounded by huge egos.

Brooke gave me a look that made me worried she was going to demand that I do something that might make me puke, like apologize to Luca, so I took her hand and hauled her through the kitchen and out the back, where my car was waiting.

I hadn’t even gotten the motor running when she turned to me with slightly glassy eyes and a stern downturn to her lush mouth. I leaned back in the seat and waited for her to let me have it.

“That was completely uncalled for,” she said. “How dare you do something like that to—”

“There are things you don’t know about him,” I said, cutting off her defense of that cretin. “And you don’t need to know, so don’t ask. But you should stay away from Luca Ross.”

To my surprise, her anger seemed to dissipate, and her eyes lit up with that morbid curiosity everyone seemed to have about super famous people. “You have to tell me after acting like that,” she demanded.

“I told you not to ask.”

“I’m not asking. You owe me after that scene.”

Oh, I liked her fire; I liked everything about her. I rolled my eyes at the adorable, stubborn set of her jaw. “Well, if you know what my family does and that doesn’t faze you, maybe nothing will.”

Her eyes got even bigger. “I don’t know what your family does. Tell me.”

It was clear she was more than a little tipsy, but she honestly seemed intrigued, so I told her, curious to see if it would put her off. Curious and a little apprehensive, not that it would stop my interest in her if it did.

“So, that’s the Bratva in a nutshell,” I finished after giving her a very brief outline of what my family and I did to gain our vast fortunes and power.

“Wow, organized crime.” She seemed fascinated.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve seen some things during my time in foster care. Plenty of crimes, believe me, though they weren’t usually all that organized.” She snorted at her little joke, but I didn’t find it funny.

“How long were you in the system?” I asked.

“My whole life,” she answered, her eyes seeming to look inward. “I was taken from my mom because she couldn’t stay sober or keep a job, and she ended up leaving me in a car unattended. Don’t know who my bio dad is, or was. I almost got adopted when I was six, but that family had a financial crisis and lost their house, and I was back to bouncing around.” She looked up, saw my grim face, and smiled. “Sorry, am I being a buzzkill?”

“Not at all,” I assured her, wanting to erase all those bad memories and replace them with new, better ones. Of course I couldn’t do that, but I was sure as hell going to make sure her future was brighter than her past. Stunned by this realization and how certain I was about it, I frowned hard at her. “Since you know how bad guys operate, you should know to stay far away from Luca from now on.”

“As if I’ll ever see him again,” she snorted, back to her sunny self. Her face softened as she looked at me, her eyes intense. “Shouldn’t I stay far away from you, too? Aren’t you a bad guy?”

She leaned closer. Was she flirting for the first time all day? It certainly seemed like she was, and I was there for it.

“Very bad,” I agreed, making her laugh.

I stopped the laughter with a long, searing look, and she bit her lip and dropped her gaze. I kept my eyes locked on her until she raised her chin, that plump lower lip still tight between her teeth.

“Yes, you seem very bad,” she whispered, edging closer.

The neon lights from the street side of the diner cast a glow into her side of the car, almost giving her a halo effect around her shiny, loose hair. I reached out and ran my fingers through it, tightening my grip at the nape of her neck. Very slowly tilting her head back until her lips parted and her eyes closed.

A second later, my mouth was on hers, both of us groaning with satisfaction as our lips collided. My hand slid down her smooth neck to her shoulder, her hot skin under her dress burning my palm and setting my blood on fire.

She tugged at my shirt, then ran her hand up my chest to grip my shoulder, twisting in her seat until her seatbelt locked. I would have laughed if I hadn’t been so inflamed, but only reached to unclasp it. This wasn’t the LA summer night; this was pure passion heating us up to the point we were both gasping.

As soon as she was free from the seatbelt, she launched herself at me, her soft curves pressed against my chest and her arms locked around my neck. My tongue met hers, and she moaned softly, lacing her fingers into my hair. She was so soft, so giving, and my hands couldn’t get enough of her flesh hidden beneath that damn silk dress.

Just like that, she pulled away, blinking in the dim, pink light. She twisted back into her seat, patting her cheeks and clearing her throat.

“That was, um… It’s really late…”

“I better get you back,” I said, unable to take my eyes off her blazing cheeks. I had the whole week, there was plenty of time.

“Yes, that,” she said, staring straight ahead, fighting the smile that tried to curve her lips.

We drove home in charged silence, and I could only speak for my own thoughts, but I wanted more. Much, much more. I wasn’t sure a week was going to be enough.