Chapter 11: Enemies in London

Luca’s POV

She was still there.

Her bare arm curled over the pillow, her hair a mess of wild curls on my chest. One of her legs had slipped out of the covers sometime during the night, and it was hovering over mine. 

Her mouth was slightly opened, her eyes shut peacefully. She was still deeply asleep.

I didn’t move. I just watched.

There was something about the way she slept—like all her fire was on pause. As though the same woman who argued with me like a storm could also fold so effortlessly into my sheets, into my space, like she belonged here.

And maybe she did.

I smiled gently to myself, tracing the line of her shoulder with my eyes. Her skin looked softer in the morning light. She shifted a little, her body coming closer to me. Like we weren't already close enough.

But I didn’t move.

I only watched her some more. Inhaling her scent.

Because if I touched her now, I wouldn't be able to stop.

My phone vibration broke the quiet atmosphere. I reached for it carefully, making sure not to wake her.

"Fabby," I said quietly.

“Boss. I’ve got something for you.” His voice was sharp, alert. “The attack on the shipment—I think it's somehow related to someone in London.”

London? I don't remember having any enemies there or making one. Unless is trying to one out of me.

“Names?” I whispered.

“Not yet boss. The location is the only thing I could determine. I traced a certain chip and had it tracked by one of my guys. He said the GPS allocated to it could come from…”

“London, yes. I understand.” I interrupted him before he starts talking to me like I'm a fellow IT expert.

“Yes boss.” He replied, he must have figured out my impatience.

“Have you informed Emilio?”

“Yes boss, I believe he's on his way to you soon. He thinks it's one of your distributors.”

Emilio. He can be careless sometimes but he seems to be understanding this business little by little.

“I believe he's right.”

“May I ask how sir?”

“No, you may not. Thanks for your help, Fabby. If there's anything else, get to me immediately. Do you understand?”

“Of course boss.”

I ended the call without another word.

As much as I'd like to send a deadly message, I can't afford to draw attention to myself. Besides I don't know what these Londoners have that gives them the balls to attack my shipment.

I wouldn't want to start a war I'm not sure of. That would be foolish.

Sliding out from under Maria carefully, I left the bed and headed into the bathroom. The mirror greeted me with the same hard eyes. I was obviously worried about these Londoners but I was also in a good mood.

I guess that's the effect of having Maria by my side. Nevertheless, the world didn’t care if I’d slept well. And it certainly didn’t care that the softest woman I’d ever held was still asleep on my sheets.

I needed to get to work.

I went into the cold shower and let it run down my body. When I stepped out, I paused by the small monitor tucked inside the mirror frame. The one that let me see into Maria's room.

I should probably get rid of it but not now. I need to be sure she's mine first.

If Maria ever asked, I’d tell her it was some old security thing, nothing important. I could definitely come up with something that would stir her away.

Back in the bedroom, the bed shifted as Maria stretched awake, blinking into the light. She rubbed her eyes like a child, then she saw me.

“Good morning, Mr. De Rossi,” she said, her voice dried from sleep.

I leaned in, kissed her slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Good morning, little doll. Sleep well?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

I sat beside her and ran a hand gently down her arm. “Good. That’s all I want.”

But she narrowed her eyes, sharp like always. “Something’s bothering you.”

“No.” I looked away.

“Don’t lie to me, Mr. De Rossi.”

I turned back to her, lips twitching. “You always talk to your elders like that?”

“Only the ones who think silence makes them charming.”

I smiled softly. She was something.

“It’s nothing actually,” I finally said. “Just… business stuff. Boring, really.”

“Then why do you look like you’re planning a murder in your head?”

“Because sometimes business needs… creative solutions.”

She studied me for a second. “So, what’s the problem?”

I leaned back, playing with the edge of the sheet draped over her thigh. “Let’s just say I have a little… obstacle. Someone’s moved something of mine. And I don’t want to make too much noise getting it back.”

Maria tilted her head. “So… why not sneak in quietly, take what’s yours, and leave a note that says ‘Thanks for keeping it warm’?”

I paused. 

Then I laughed—a deep, rare sound that even surprised me.

“That’s… actually not bad.” I said.

“But first I need to find out where they moved it to.”

“Yeah.”

“That's a good one, Maria.”

She looked pleased with herself, even smug. “Glad to be of help, Mr. De Rossi.”

I smiled at her again, getting myself dressed.

As I reached for my jacket, she slid out of bed in nothing but her thin nightgown. I tried not to look, but failed miserably. She walked up to me barefoot, and when I turned to leave, she leaned in.

“You’ve just given me the best idea,” I murmured against her ear. Then I let my hand trail down her lower back—down to the soft curve of her ass. I gave it the gentlest, most sinful squeeze.

She gasped, just slightly.

I pulled back with a smirk. “Now I need to get to work.”

And with that, I left her standing there—half flushed, half confused, completely stunning.

Whatever happens next… these Londoners should consider themselves lucky I'm trying to avoid trouble.