Page 38 of Ruin Me With Lies

“Luca,” I mumble sleepily.“Close the balcony doors.It’s chilly.”

He was dead to the world when I crawled into bed earlier, but it seems he’s up now, no doubt smoking his nightly Malbaro on the balcony before heading out to Black Gold.

When the chill persists, I groan louder, “Lucaaa.”

Silence.

Did that bastard seriously leave the balcony doors open on me?I swear, I’m going to punch him in the freaking throat.

Annoyed, I grumpily kick off the covers, get out of bed and shuffle toward the balcony, sleep still heavy in my limbs.

The sheer curtains billow inward as I reach for the brass handle…then I pause.

There’s a man outside.

And it’snotLuca.

He sits at the rattan table, bathed in moonlight, watching me.Wearing a well-fitted pinstripe suit.Legs crossed like a man accustomed to wealth and power.Cruelly handsome face half-shadowed under the crescent moonlight.

“I—uh, what—” I stutter.

His gaze drags over me, lingering on my cotton shorts and lace-trimmed camisole.“Hm.How comfortably you sleep,” he muses, voice smooth, almost amused.“Safe and sound within the protection of my walls.”

He dips a tiny spoon into a small jar.His favorite snack.

I fold my arms.“So, you dropped in to remind me how cold and unsafe it could be?”

His answering smile is full-fledged, dazzling under the night sky.“I heard you were quick.Looks like the rumors are true.”

He motions to the empty chair across the table.“Sit.”

When I do, he nudges a Tupperware container toward me.“Pasticcini.From Cora.”

Ooh, yay!

Giddy for treats, I pull the container closer and pop the lid.The pastries look and smell divine, scrumptious.But my excitement sours when I notice each one has a bite taken out of it.

Rude.

I shoot a glare across the table.“Looks like you helped yourself.”

“I christened them for you.”

“Cookie monster,” I murmur.

Unbelievable.Is he seriously this petty?

“You should be honored.”He gestures to himself with a flourish.“Look at me.I’m magnificence personified.”

And there it is.The self-absorbed narcissist in full form.

“Merci beaucoup, Mr.Magnificent.”I pluck up one of the mauled pastries and take a bite.Little does he know, for me, this is akin to kissing him.“So… are you here to torment me, teach me a lesson, or kill me?”

He licks dark chocolate from his golden spoon, slow and deliberate.“Do you think I just spend my days in some dark lair, twirling my mustache and plotting ways to kill you?”His voice drips with mockery.“Hate to break it to you, little liar, but you’re not that important.Inmysight, you’re nobody.Just a needy leech.”

“Yet here you are,” I counter, “in my room.At three in the morning.”

“Myroom,” he corrects.“I go where the fuck I please.You own nothing here but the skin on your bones.”