11-Life with Emmett

Luca’s POV

Riding shotgun in an SUV, with my mate driving the busy streets of Atlanta, is a bit unnerving. He seems right at home and unbothered by the traffic. I prefer rolling hills, dirt roads, and no hint of people.

“So, my family business is nightclubs and retail space rental,” Emmett talks calmly, like two tractor-trailers didn’t just attempt to run us off the road. “What is the Lopez family business?”

“In our Realm, we train packs; in the human realm, casinos. We own four in Las Vegas.” I tell him, gripping the door panel, as he swerves to avoid a motorcycle going the wrong way. “Can’t people in Atlanta drive?”

Emmett laughs, “No, they can’t. You don’t drive do you?”

“We have a driver. Cliff drives me.” I answer, closing my eyes. “I’m usually in the back seat.”

Emmett laughs again. “Close your eyes, Babe, we will be at the building codes office in five, I’ll drop off this stuff for Thomas and then it’s twenty minutes to the club site.”

“Do you think you could teach me to drive?
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