Page 10 of Paolo DeLuca
Chapter eight
Shecouldn’tbelievewhat he had offered her. Gino had said, Lyric would’ve had to work at the club for at least a year and a half to even step foot on the dais. Now, Mr. DeLuca offered her the position every night she worked. It was a great opportunity, but there was no way she would’ve accepted to work the VIP bar if she knew it messed with someone else’s livelihood. Lyric understood what it was like to live paycheck-to-paycheck, and with tuition due in a few weeks, this boost would give her the cushion she needed to not stress about it. She was surprised but also relieved he accepted her counterproposal. Lyric was beyond grateful, but she couldn’t help but think somehow accepting Mr. DeLuca’s offer would cost her in the end. She just didn’t know in what form of payment. But the way he perused her body earlier, she had a good idea of what he wanted in return.
Lyric should’ve been offended, but she wasn’t. She was sure it was because she wanted Mr. DeLuca as much as he seemed to want her. But Lyric had standards. There was no way she would get involved with her boss. That wouldn’t happen no matter how much she thought about how soft, full his lips looked. And whether the tattoo peeking out from under his rolled-up sleeves traveled all over his body.
She shook the sensation away.
“I need to get back out there.” She reached the door, but Mr. DeLuca stepped in front of her.
“You’re not going back out there. Not tonight. I’m taking you home. You’ve had enough of this place for one night.”
Anger coiled through her. Was she missing something? When did he become her keeper? He was not her father, and he most certainly was not her man. She never had a man tell her what to do, except for her grandpa, and she wasn’t about to have one start now. Her grandparents raised her to be strong and independent. She was absolutely done with all the goddamn testosterone floating in the air. It was time for her to go. Lyric’s hands moved to her hips, and she pierced Mr. DeLuca with swirling brown eyes.
“Mr. DeLuca, I don’t know who you think you are, but you are not my man.” Her breathing sped up; fire fueled her bravado. “You don’t tell me what to do.”
“Call me Paolo,” he said with a sexy smirk.
“What?”
“I said, call me Paolo.” He moved in closer to her, merely an inch or so separating them. His eyes left hers, briefly dipped to her lips, lingering there for a second too long. Lyric licked her lips in anticipation. His smirk shifted to a grin as he stepped back out of her space. “And who I am, is your boss.” He moved back behind his desk, dismissing her argument, “Go home, Lyric. Get some rest and come back tomorrow.”
Damn him.
He knew exactly what he did to her, but she wouldn’t go there. She’d made a promise to herself right then; there would be no lusty thoughts of Paolo DeLuca. Lyric watched him with determination in her eyes, satisfied with her decision, as he pulled out his phone. She shook her head as he ordered someone named Franco to his office.
Soon, a knock sounded at the office door, and a bald man with piercing blue eyes poked his head through the doorway.
“The car’s out back,” he said to Paolo.
“Good.” Paolo nodded toward her. “Take Lyric home.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Franco opened the door wider so Lyric could walk out.
“Franco,” Paolo called after him. The man moved back into the room. She didn’t hear everything he said to him, but it sounded like he said she was under DeLuca protection now. Whatever that was supposed to mean.
Franco nodded and walked out into the hallway where she waited, shutting the door behind him.
Twenty minutes into the ride home, Lyric couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So, Franco, how long have you worked for Paolo?”
He didn’t answer but peeked at her out the corner of his eye as he continued down the highway, following the GPS to her studio apartment. When she was absolutely sure he wouldn’t answer the question, she asked another one, “Why does that family have such a bad reputation? Gino is super nice.”
Franco snorted, like he was privy to information she wasn’t. It piqued her curiosity. “Believe every word,” he said, chancing a glance at her, then firmly planting his eyes back on the road.
Lyric sighed. Her grandfather had said as much, too. But her experience didn’t corroborate their sentiments. Gino hired her and did nothing but help her out when she didn’t know the first thing about bartending. With his guidance and friendship, she fit in with the staff at Night Shade. It was like one big happy family now.
“So, what about you, Franco? Should I be worried about you as well?”
She could see the smirk on his lips in the rearview mirror. It was dangerous, yet she wasn’t afraid of him either.
“It’s true then? Their name incites fear?” She wiggled her fingers in the air and made a ghost sound.
Franco didn’t answer one way or the other. It wasn’t long before he pulled up to the brick building of her studio apartment. Lyric went to open her door, but before she could step out, Franco locked her door.
“Hey!” she yelled. “What are you doing?”
Franco turned in his seat to face her. “You don’t get out of this car until I make sure it’s safe.”
“This is my apartment,” she protested. “My neighborhood. I know these people.”
