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Chapter thirteen

Luca

I have to fight to keep my composure. My hands remain in fists under the wooden conference table as Cecily and her attorney quietly discuss their terms. She agrees to sign over parental rights but refuses to pay child support, which is fine by me as I never even asked her to.

I don’t want her money.

I don’t even want her involved after this. She wants to wash her hands of Gia so badly, let her do just that.

Because she is my kid, and even if Cici doesn’t want her, I sure as fuck do.

I plan to make sure she grows up knowing that. Every. Damn. Day.

Samara clears her throat beside me, drawing my attention back to the conversation. “As I was saying, Cecily St. James will sign the agreement in front of the judge. As soon as we’ve heard back about a court date, I’ll be in contact,” her attorney, a middle-aged man named Hank, says with all the authority he can muster.

“If that’s all, we’re done here,” Samara says, standing and effectively ending the meeting without another word. We each reach across the table to shake hands as Cecily’s big blue eyes stay cast downward, never once meeting mine.

This just feels so… off.

***

“Thank you, Samara,” I tell her as she walks me down to the lobby.

She nods. “You’re welcome, Luca.” She continues ahead of me until we’re at the front doors. “I’ll call you with updates. Have a good rest of your day,” she says before strutting off in the direction of her office.

I wouldn’t exactly call her shift in attitude warm and fuzzy, but it’s a positive improvement from the way she’s been speaking to me since we first met. Rome had warned me that Samara would see through all of my “pretty boy charm,” as he calls it, and considering at one point he had been the biggest player of the two of us, I can imagine he’s speaking from experience.

My eyes snag on her hips as they sway with her, that snug pencil skirt hugging against every one of her perfect curves.

If she weren’t my attorney and didn’t want to punch my lights out, I’d love nothing more than for her to come all over my tongue while she rides my face with those thick thighs.

Jesus Christ, I need a cold shower.

I haven’t gone this long without an orgasm since I was a fucking teenager.

I shake the thoughts out of my head, and instead, I revel in the relief of knowing that Gia, my kid, is going to really be mine soon.

Now, it’s just a waiting game.