Page 3 of De Luca: The Sinister Game

Instantly, I see red. Who the fuck would do that to her? Drake mirrors my rage and barks, “Who?”

With a shrug, Benji says, “I don’t know. The police took her statement, but all she knew was it was a man in dark clothing wearing a ski mask. After the attack, she was placed on a psychiatric hold, the first of many.”

I clench my jaw but grit out, “Why?”

His eyes dart between mine and Drake's before he answers, “I don’t know, but I feel like there’s something with this family. Something isn’t right. I hacked into the psychiatric records, and I don’t know if she still does, but she was a cutter.”

Glancing over at Drake, I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. Dalia was a cutter for a while after our mom died. Dalia was a little kid and watched our mom get raped and beaten repeatedly until she passed away in captivity. My sister was also raped brutally. When we rescued her, she began dealing with the emotional pain by cutting her skin. We never understood it. Our way of handling pain is frequently to inflict hurt, but not to ourselves. She once explained to me that the physical pain for a few moments makes the emotional hurt subside. ‘When I cut, I don’t hear her crying,’ she told me.

“I’m sending you a picture of Natalia’s senior prom.”

I glance down at my phone when the image appears. Natalia stands in a light blue dress, tears running down her face and the word pig in what seems to be spray paint on her chest. Three other girls hold her hands behind her back.

Benji says, “The blonde on the left is her sister, Nicole.”

This is fucking confusing. I don’t understand it. My family has always been close. Even when Domenic was pissed at me, he wouldn’t have ever hurt me. I still would’ve had his protection had I needed it.

CHAPTER 3

NATALIA

Dating sucks. Anthony never showed, but I’ll be damned if I let my black dress go to waste. In preparation, I got ready, did my hair and makeup, and even shaved, just in case. I have not had sex in six months and three days. I will not turn it down if a one-night stand presents itself tonight. Well, as long as it’s not a troll offering. I’m not that desperate.

I miss going out with Giada, but a club isn’t enjoyable when pregnant. Besides, I doubt Papa Bear would allow it. Most women would say Domenic De Luca is a red flag, and I suppose he is a little crazy about his wife. He’s not trying to control her, he just wants her to be safe. After she was kidnapped for a year, I got it. That year was terrible. None of us wants to go through that again. If he can prevent it, nothing like that will ever happen again.

After pulling up to the Valet, I park, grab my purse, and step out of the vehicle, “Be good to Norma Jean,” I say to the attendant, who stares at me in confusion.

“My car is Norma Jean.”

Did I name my Mazda Miata after Marilyn Monroe? Of course, I did. How could I not? She was quoted once as saying she was insecure her entire life. I can’t imagine a woman like her having a single insecurity, but she did. I think that part of her has always called to me. It made her seem incredibly human and somehow made me feel like I had something in common with the most beautiful woman to have ever existed.

I hand him my keys, and he chuckles uncomfortably. “I promise to be careful with her, ma’am.”

“Gross. Don’t call women ma’am. It makes us feel old.”

I giggle when the young man blushes, too cute, and I walk away when I spot Talia standing at the entrance waiting for me. After the door attendant scans our ID, we grab a table before they’re all taken. The server brings our first and second round of drinks—a shot of tequila for both of us and a margarita.

“What are the rules tonight, Nat?”

I laugh because I always have rules about if I get drunk. Don’t let me do something I’ll regret because I haven’t wanted just to have sex. I’ve aimed far too high, thinking my soulmate is looking for me somewhere. He’s not. Reality has sunk in.

“No rules. I’m getting laid tonight.”

She holds up her shot glass, and I do the same. We clink our glasses together as Talia says, “Cheers to finding someone to make the kitty purr.”

After we down our shots, Talia declares we need to dance. My surgeon was right; I never danced again professionally. This is as close as it gets. I rise from my chair, join Talia on the dance floor, and let the music seep into my soul as I’ve done a million times before. I sway my hips to the music as my friend does the same. The song started with a drum beat I’ve never heard, but I know it well as it continues. I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift. We continue to dance and sing along loudly when Talia moves closer to me and shouts in my ear, “A hot man is staring at you!”

I turn around slowly to a penetrating gaze I know well.

Dante De Luca. Dangerous, delicious, and hot as sin. Talia whispers in my ear, “Jesus, Nat. He’s hot. If you don’t fuck him, I will.”

He holds his hand up and motions for me to walk over to him, so I do. I’d like to blame it on the alcohol, but after one shot and half a margarita, I really can’t. My heart pounds as I approach him. I’m trapped in his stare, like some physical force pulls me to him. Leaning down, he speaks directly into my ear, which quickly travels to my core. “That’s my girl.”

He takes my hand and pulls me out of the club area down a hallway; I glance around and realize we’re outside the bathrooms.

Pushing me up against the wall, his eyes drop to my lips. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

---