Page 37 of Paolo DeLuca
Chapter twenty
Dayslowlybrokeas Lyric stared out the window while Franco drove her back to Paolo’s. She didn’t want to stop by her place; she just wanted to get there, shower, and sleep for a long, long time. She couldn’t believe how stupid she was. None of this would’ve happened had she done what Paolo asked her to do. If she’d just gone to Franco and let him know where she was going, she wouldn’t have been vulnerable to Cali. She wouldn’t have been in so much danger. That bullet missed her by inches. Lyric thought for sure her ass was gone.
“There’s no use blaming yourself,” Franco stated, his hands firmly on the wheel, eyes straight ahead.
“I’m not blaming myself,” she retorted, but she was lying. Yes, she was because it was absolutely her fault.
Franco chuckled. “Yes the fuck you were. I can see it written on your face. Your body language is yelling what you’re not saying.”
Lyric finally turned to him. “So what, you’re an expert on body language now?” she snapped and blew a breath. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I don’t have a reason to be angry with you.”
Franco barked out a laugh. She didn’t see what was so funny, but Lyric could get used to his laugh. Especially after her first experience meeting him. He said all of three words to her then. She needed more laughter in her life, especially after the night she had.
“It’s alright, but to answer your questions, I am trained to read body language.” Franco had a straightforwardness about him she found refreshing. She didn’t doubt he was trained to do what he revealed to her. She had a feeling it was one of the reasons he worked for Paolo.
“Do you think he’s okay?” She couldn’t help wondering if Paolo was safe. Lyric never wanted to put him in that situation. There was one part of her, when she was tied up to that chair with the gun pointed at her head, that really wished he wouldn’t have come for her. And then another part was so overjoyed that Paolo thought enough of her to put himself in danger. She certainly wouldn’t be getting into any more situations warranting her rescue.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Franco answered nonchalantly, like everything that happened was an everyday occurrence. ‘Whelp, just another day at the office’ type thing.
With the DeLucas’ reputation, she assumed things like what happened tonight were commonplace. Could she get used to a life like that? Before she could answer herself, Franco turned into the garage.
“Are we going to wait?” she asked, not knowing if they should enter Paolo’s condo without him.
“Nah.” Franco got out of the car and jogged to Lyric’s side, helping her out. Her legs were still a little shaky, her body still in shock. Shit! Her mind was still in shock. She couldn’t believe how twisted Cali’s thinking was. Lyric grew up believing if a man said he didn’t want you—then believe it. He didn’t want you. And there was definitely not going to be any chasing. Not on her part anyway.
They moved as quickly as her legs could carry her toward the elevator. Franco placed his hand on a flat black square placed near the elevator. The last time she was here, she didn’t remember seeing it.
“This place has high-tech security,” she commented as she and Franco stepped into the waiting elevator.
“Has to have it. You’d be surprised the crazies around here.”
Lyric leaned against the far wall, biting her bottom lip. “Because of the things Paolo is into?”
Franco didn’t say anything for a while as the elevator rose. Then he faced her. “If you intend to be with him, Lyric, those are things you need to discuss with him.”
Sound advice. Lyric had a lot to think about. Damn it; she wanted the man. She wanted to be with him, but if it came at the cost of her life, she didn’t know.
“Talk to him before you make any decisions,” Franco advised like he read her mind. Who knew Franco Moretti was a guru at love advice?
Lyric nodded, then stepped out of the elevator behind Franco. She’d barely gotten to look at the place the last time she was here, but Paolo liked clean lines and modern décor. A picture hanging above the fireplace mantel drew her attention. She gasped. It was the landscape she painted and gave to the museum.
“I can’t believe he bought it.” Her hand covered her mouth as tears trekked down her cheeks. Lyric couldn’t stand to cry and quickly wiped her tears.
“Yours?” Franco asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“There’s another one in the hallway,” he informed.
Lyric quickly walked to the hallway and, at the end, hung her dolphins. Lyric shook her head. She couldn’t believe he bought those right under her nose. Franco retrieved his phone when a text notification sounded. He tapped out his reply, then put it back in his pocket.
“Take your time,” he said. “Make yourself at home. There’s no need to wait up.”
Not waiting up was his way of saying Paolo was doing criminal things, something she didn’t want to think about at the moment. She was just glad to be somewhere safe.
“A hot shower would feel good right about now.” She walked to Paolo’s room, throwing a small wave at Franco over her shoulder.
“If you need me, yell,” he told her, making his way to the kitchen.
She nodded, then closed the door behind her.
The shower felt excellent. The hot water penetrating her pores relaxed her tensed muscles from the ordeal. Once she was out, Lyric rummaged through Paolo’s dresser, looking for a t-shirt to sleep in. She pulled out a faded black shirt, which boasted, of all things, Al Pacino as Scarface.
“That’s so cheesy,” she rolled her eyes and slipped on the shirt. Lyric wasted no time settling into bed and under the covers. She wanted to stay awake for Paolo, even though Franco said it was no use to wait up. She wanted to lay eyes on him to see for herself that he was safe. They had a lot to discuss, but her body and mind knew what it needed. Sleep claimed her.
She didn’t know how long she’d been out before realizing his warm body was next to hers. He’d pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her, like a safety net. She felt safe in Paolo’s arms. Despite him being the dangerous man her grandparents warned her about, the Capo of Miami, a member of the infamous DeLuca family, and him revealing to her more than once he was a savage and the reason for her kidnapping last night, she was safe. Lyric released a deep sigh at the realization. There was no more contemplating where she belonged or whether she would stay. This was where she was supposed to be and, more importantly, where she wanted to be.
Lyric snuggled into Paolo’s body and let sleep overtake her again. All her other worries and other conversations could wait until the morning.
