LUCA {Full Book}

2

My phone buzzed again, tenth fucking time in an hour. It was only eight here, which meant the sun wasn't even up in Cali. Dammit, Gav.

I slapped my laptop screen down, stood while tossing the phone to my ear, finally answering his call. "It's not fucking snowing!" I didn't bother with a hello because I knew exactly why he was calling. "Can't Sadie get you some pills to calm your ass down? Some weed?" As I said it, I caught sight of Nora and Vinny in the frame, staring right at me with eyes identical to Gav's. And suddenly, I saw him, little Gav's eyes on me in full-blown panic when the snow started. The snow killed our parents, so obviously, it would kill us too. He'd plead with me not to leave when the storms rolled in, and like the dick I was, I would make some shitty fucking joke before leaving him alone in that apartment. Half the time, I only left to fuck with him.

I took it too far a few times, not fucking realizing it, and a few years ago, he left New York. Left his nightmares behind, landed in Cali, and found his dreams, first Sadie, then the twins. But that was the problem with finding the light—it made it that much harder to return to the darkness. A decade after that blizzard and Gav was still haunted. Only it wasn't us he was worried about, it was them. He was bringing his new family to the place that destroyed his old one. Honestly, I didn't fucking blame him, but he had nothing to worry about. I, hell, we would protect Sadie and those babies with our lives—no fucking storm would touch them—accident or otherwise.

"It's okay, Fratellino," I assured the silence on the other end of the line. "No storm in sight. Get the family on the plane tomorrow. We'll be waiting."

He huffed before the line went dead.

I dropped the phone into my coat pocket on my way to the balcony door, staring out at the darkening sky and the shadow it cast over the park across the way. Thirteen years ago, that sky unleashed, sending cars into chaos, one of them taking out our parents. Two weeks later, twenty-six-year-old me was handed over the custody of twelve-year-old Gav. I'm not sure what fucked him up more—losing our parents or gaining me.

A glass was already in my hand, the heaping shot of whiskey burning down my throat. Focus. I shook off the memories, slid my jacket on, grabbed my briefcase, and was out the door, out the building, and en route to the triple espresso I needed to start this day.

You could smell the brew as you walked in, the scent alone bringing me some fucking peace while I strummed through the thousand emails that came in since last night. Fucking Jameson. You always want to tell me how to do my job! I'm the fucking CEO, asshole! I deleted that email, then the next. Ah, Richards, you bastard. Always wanting to fucking micromanage his investment. You know what—Gav can have you. I'm done.

"Hey!" some chick snapped.

I recognized the attitude, then the body before landing on those lips and the smug ass smile they formed. Fuck—that chick from last night. I should have grabbed a coffee at work. This was why I had a fucking assistant.

"Drunk bar guy!" she rattled off, smiling, very fucking pleased with herself.

"Buy my own drinks, chick. Too morally righteous to accept a free drink."

She laughed, swiveling those hips towards the cashier. "My usual, please." She then stepped aside, watching as I followed to order.

"Triple espresso." I tossed the cash, refusing to meet the ridiculous face staring at me.

"Too morally righteous," she repeated, forcing my stare. "You were trying to get laid."

"That's not why I offered," I lied. It was obviously why I offered. "I'm just a fucking gentleman."