Scorned Love: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Scorned Fate)
Scorned Love: Chapter 14

My sleep was fractured. Too consumed with anger that I debated sleeping on the floor, but weirdly, I felt better when Ivy was in my arms. More weirdly, I’d never had a woman this close to me while I slept. I’d never been a cuddler. I would detach right away when any of my girlfriends did this after sex. And we didn’t even have sex. We were simply sleeping together. With Ivy, it was soothing and it baffled me. Because here was a woman who had historically annoyed the fuck out of me, but somehow seeing the rise and fall of her chest, being assured she was alive, kept the rip-roaring rage in check.

And pity was the least of what I was feeling for her. Empathy, yes. But I saw the gash on her forehead and the bruises on her body as the marks of a warrior. She’d become one of us. The Arrows. She fits in my world.

And therein lay the problem with what I was feeling for her. Our attraction exploded into hard fucking. Her words peeled off the scab from my insecurities. Insecurities that I thought I had overcome, and it threw me into a tailspin.

She was right. I had played mind games. While I dug into Edward Sinclair’s background, I avoided her, and tried to hate her, lumped her back in with those who used people to gain status. But I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to pick at my scabs until they’d scar again and I’d become immune.

But I really wanted her at Mom’s birthday. I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe I wanted to get back into our hating game.

After hearing her attack on the phone, I didn’t want to be that helpless again.

After what happened to her, I was done with games.

After seeing her struggle in her sleep, I wanted to be her number one protector. Admittedly, it was after watching that fight tape when my feelings started to change. I also used that point as my benchmark. Because if she’d been hurt then, I doubt I would have rushed out in a panic like I had tonight.

My phone on the nightstand buzzed. Sunrise had already peeked between the slats of the blinds. I was going to have to take a few days off from work and rely on web meetings.

My phone buzzed again, so I grabbed it.

It was Matteo.

I ground my molars. I was sleep deprived and my brother was pissing me off.

Bubbles appeared and disappeared.

I sensed an incoming call and got out of bed and went to the bathroom. My phone flashed Matteo.

“It’s six in the morning,” I grumbled.

“Sera has been up all night,” Matteo shot back. “She feels terrible that she’s not Ivy’s person.”

“She is, okay…but you don’t want Ivy feeling terrible that she’s intruding on newlyweds.”

“That’s a lame argument and you know it. It’s not like she has the flu. She’s been attacked.”

“I guess your wife gave you an earful.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have contradicted her.”

“Are you in the doghouse, bro?”

“Look, you gotta give me something, man, because whether you like it or not, Sera is going to show up there bright and early. She’s in the shower right now.”

“Shit. Ivy’s still sleeping.”

“Have you checked? Maybe she’s…”

“No, man, she is sleeping.”

Silence. And then…a whispered fuck.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Matteo said carefully. “And Sera is still not picking up the vibe between the two of you. She thinks you offered because Xander is there to take care of Ivy.”

“He was an option, but so was I.”

“All right, I’ll try to delay her. Just don’t take too long.”

After our call, I took a piss, gargled mouthwash, and splashed water on my face. Raking wet fingers through my hair, more from frustration than grooming, I returned to the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed to check on Ivy. She was awake.

“That sounded like Matteo,” her voice croaked.

“Yeah. Sera wants to come over. Do you want her to?”

“I feel terrible for not staying with her.”

“Why?”

“Because…she’s my best friend. I would want her to stay with me if she was in the same situation.”

“But what if Matteo insisted she stay with him?”

She tried to get up on her right elbow but thought better of it. I moved to help her, but she rolled out the other side of the mattress and stumbled up.

“What the hell are you doing?” I barked. She held up her left hand. “Morning breath.”

“You think I care?”

“Well, I do,” she spat. “So butt out!”

I reared back at the vehemence in her voice. “Maybe we should switch sides tonight?” My mouth twitched as amusement chased my initial surprise.

The room was still shadowed in darkness, and I couldn’t discern the glare behind the swollen eyes, but I could feel it slicing me into ribbons.

“I already look a fright, I don’t want to reek too…and before you tell me now is not the time for vanity, I’m vain, I own it, so sue me.”

She limped past me and I fought the urge to assist her because her body language was anything but welcoming. I moved aside so she wouldn’t have to take a longer route to the bathroom.

Ivy braced her left hand against the sink, leaned in, and stared at her reflection. “I’m glad they didn’t knock out a tooth.” She gingerly touched her cheek. “Does it look better to you?”

“The swelling appears less, but the color is darker. How’s the forehead?”

“It’s like one throbbing gaping wound.” She proceeded with her morning routine.

My phone buzzed again. I didn’t look at it, but it was probably Matteo asking for a heads-up. “Sera wants to see you.”

Ivy spat out the mouthwash and looked at me. “That’s fine. I’m surprised she’s not already here.”

I leaned against the doorjamb, watching her gently pat her face with water, wincing when she hissed and again wishing there was someone I could kill for doing this to her. There would be time to figure this out. Right now, Ivy was my priority.

She looked at me in the mirror. “What? Are you just going to watch me go about my morning?”

“Yeah.”

She walked toward me and smirked. “Well, you haven’t gained the right to watch me pee yet.”

She slammed the door in my face.

Ivy Wu was not a morning person.

“I still need to put that liniment on you. It appears to be helping.”

“Got it. Now stop listening to me pee.”

Chuckling, I checked my messages. The last one was not from Matteo. It was from Bianca.

I sighed, resigned, yet determined to be the shield between Ivy and the inevitable invasion of my Italian-Irish family.

Dammit. I stilled myself. We do not need Bianca here too.

Another message pinged. This time, it was Matteo.

Bubbles and then nothing.

When a message came, it was from Mom. For Christ’s sakes.

Ivy opened the door to the bathroom. “You must be a popular person today.”

“The family wants to drop by this morning.”

She stilled. “Your family?”

“Yes. Bianca…Mom said she could bring breakfast from Eamonn’s.”

I swore I could see Ivy light up before she said, “Can I make a special request?”

“You’re willing to take on my family?” A strange feeling, a pressure, squeezed my rib cage. This woman had more courage than what I gave her credit for and I’d already thought she was the shit. I expected her to hide from people, wallow in self-pity. She said she was vain, but I was thinking it was the opposite.

“Why not? I’m hungry. And I love your mom and dad. They’re so cute together.”

I pinched my brows. “Are you sure you want them here because you can’t stand my company?”

She patted my cheek. “Don’t be insecure.”

Ivy made to move past me, but I blocked her path. “I need to apply that liniment.”

She made a funny if not resigned face. “But I’m about to have guests. Hey”—she cupped her face and screwed it up a bit—“that didn’t hurt as much.”

“Just goes to show, a little less vanity and more of the smelly shit. Come on, princess.”

Ivy

“I stink!” I held up my hands in warning when Sera arrived with Matteo, his parents, and Bianca. Renz and Liz popped in earlier, but had a bakery to run and promised to check back later.

“What is that smell?” Sera stopped short, gave me a sniff, before hugging me as though a skunk had sprayed me and I was contagious.

“Dit da jow. Literally translates to fall hit wine.”

Nico’s father came forward. “That sounds familiar.” He looked over my shoulder at his son. “You got it from the boxing gym?”

“Yeah. Daniel told me they have it. I haven’t used it before.”

“Good stuff,” Cesar said. “How are you, sweetheart? Looks like we need to pay someone a visit.” Nico’s father said this with a smile on his face, but the chill in his eyes made me shiver.

“I’m fine. You should see the other guy.”

He chuckled and told his wife, “She’s feisty, this one.”

“Don’t hog her. Go put the food on the table.” Ava appeared by her husband’s side. She gave my left hand a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay.” I was in awe when I met Nico’s mother. She had the type of beauty that was effortless. Her clothes were understated, but you knew she came from money and epitomized the current buzzword in haute couture—quiet luxury—giving preference to cut, quality of fabric, and eschewing logos.

“Ha, me too,” I said lightly. Though I was conscious of the bruising on my face, I’d been around them enough not to care. Bianca was the next to hug me. “Someone needs to die,” she whispered in my ear that was loud enough for everyone to hear.

I pulled back. “I thought you were the sweet one.”

Matteo was next. He was carrying a dish, so all he did was give me a peck at the side of my head. “Don’t be fooled. She epitomizes sweet but psycho.”

“Hey, no character assassination to my boss.” Bianca tapped her brother’s shoulder.

“Should I rethink your appearance on the runway?” I teased.

“She’ll add color,” he told Bianca. “Come on, give Sera and Ivy a moment.”

My best friend had been waiting patiently in the wings and then dragged me off to the study the second I got free of all the greetings.

Nico called, “Don’t take too long. Food’s gonna get cold.”

“Call us!” Sera said over her shoulder.

I was controlling my smile when we got into the study. Sera closed the door.

“Are you seriously feeling okay?”

“I am.”

“Because I can kick everyone else out if you want to be alone.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“You’re so kick-ass. Matteo told me I should learn Wing Chun from you.”

I laughed. She had mentioned it after my encounter with the Rossi soldiers.

She leaned against the door and crossed her arms. I turned wary.

“You’re really all right?” she asked again.

“Yes. I’m sore as expected…and stinky, but I’m really glad Nico insisted I use that liniment.”

“All right, then, what am I missing?”

“About what?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t play coy with me, Ivy Wu. I was gone for three weeks. Suddenly, there’s some serious tension between you and Nico.”

“We’ve always disliked each other.”

She gave a pfft sound and pointed in the direction where her family was gathered. “That doesn’t look like dislike to me.”

“Well, we mended our differences. We just get along more.”

Her eyes were still slits. “I call bullshit.”

“And we slept together.”

Her jaw unhinged comically. “Oh my God. And?”

“And nothing.” I shrugged. If I had complete control of my facial muscles to arch my eyebrows, this teasing would have gone better. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the time you withheld all the juicy details between you and Matteo.”

She looked outraged. “What? This is payback?”

“You know, this could be a problem.” I tapped my lips, prolonging her torture. Not that I was going to share how Nico railed me from behind.

“What? Withholding the spicy details from your best friend?”

“No, dummy. Don’t you think it’s weird when we’re banging brothers and sharing intimate stuff?”

Sera gave this a few seconds of thought before saying with conviction, “No.”

“As if you share a lot about what you and Matteo do in the bedroom.”

“I told you about what he did during the honeymoon.”

“You gave me a CliffsNotes version.” These De Lucci boys don’t shy away from filthy and dominant sex. “You didn’t share everything, but what you alluded to was kinky.”

Sera’s color heightened as if remembering.

“Um, we’re not talking about me.”

“I have a headache.” I really did, but I took painkillers, so it wasn’t the reason I was evading Sera’s scrutiny. “I’m not in a sharing mood.”

“You know, yesterday, I would have been all over that excuse, but if you’re willing to face the De Luccis”—she leaned forward—“again, I call bullshit.”

This time, I crossed my arms. “It’s honestly none of your business.”

Sera gasped. “You did not just say that to me.”

“I sure did.”

“Are you getting irritated with me?”

“Not yet.”

She sighed. “Okay, it’s looking like you don’t know what’s going on between you and Nico, either. Otherwise, you’d be the first to tell me.”

“And that’s why we’re best friends.” I sank against the desk. “I don’t know what Nico and I are.”

“He’s not your type.”

“I know!” And I was thankful for my obscured expression right now. Because, technically, that was a lie. Sera only knew the type of men I dated after Edward Sinclair. Before Edward, dapper men in suits were very much my type. I went to the other extreme after my experience with him. I went for the artists, rough-around-the-edges rockers. I’d even dated a graffiti painter. I went for men whose first love was their art. I could be their muse, but their attention span was ephemeral. Most times, I was the one with the money. I patronized their art, gave them self-confidence in a way that helped me regain my own. I was in control. They didn’t mind. They joked I was slumming. I helped them, they helped me. I didn’t know if that was healthy, though.

Nico was a mix of both. Lethal both in and out of a suit.

“Maybe your taste in men is changing?” my best friend said, but I was still under scrutiny. She could definitely tell when something was up.

“Not likely.”

“Are you saying Nico is an aberration?”

“A one-off. We already agreed to be friends.”

“Sooooo,” Sera said with a tilt of her head and then did a downward circling gesture with her index finger. “This thing going on around here and him being concerned about you is because you’re now friends.”

“Yes.”

“And his feral panic yesterday was just because you are friends.”

“Yes. Come on, if you were the one who called me and heard what he heard, wouldn’t you be panicking too?”

“You’re right.” Sera’s shoulders slumped, and she looked so disappointed that I struck down her theory, I almost laughed.

“With you and Matteo gone, we’re all becoming closer. Look at Bianca and Xander.”

“As long as I’m still your best friend.”

I opened my arms. “Come on, give me a hug.”

Sera made a duck face but strolled toward me so we could do our just-because girl hug.

When she pulled away, she scrunched her nose.

“Don’t say it,” I groaned.

A knock sounded on the door and opened. Xander poked his head in. “Food is set and ready.”

“Great, I’m hungry.” I was thankful for the interruption.

“Don’t think we’re done with this conversation,” Sera said behind me.

When we returned to the kitchen, Bianca was beside Nico. “Come on, deartháir, just do it for your baby sister.”

“The man is an acquaintance. Not a buddy. I’m not going to ask for a Maserati so you can have it for a photoshoot. Just use mine.”

I leaned into Xander. “Is that your doing?”

“Absolutely not. It was Bianca’s suggestion.”

Bianca winked at us before she returned pleading eyes to Nico. “But yours is an older model.”

“A Maserati is a Maserati,” Nico declared.

The rest of the De Luccis were looking on with amusement.

Nico addressed Matteo, “You go get married and now Bianca thinks I’m in charge of spoiling her.”

“Hey, I’m not spoiled.” His sister pouted.

Sera leaned into me and whispered, “Oh, she’s totally spoiled. If not by her dad, then she works on her brothers. Less of Matteo now, so she’s transferred her puppy dog eyes to Nico. Mom is the one who keeps her in check.”

Nico was looking at me when he said, “Did you sic my sister on me?”

“Me?” I could win an Oscar award for my voice of innocence alone. Though I was actually innocent. “According to Xander, it was her idea and hers alone.”

“Potentially expensive idea,” Nico muttered.

“It’s good for exposure, elevates both brands,” Bianca argued.

“We’re not quite in league with Maserati yet, but…” I nudged Xander. “What’s our status with Glamourique?”

“That’s what the shoot is for. We’re giving them content for their website. No less than the fashion editor is including us in her edit.”

“So you’re all saying this all boils down to me?” Nico asked.

“Well, I or Katie can follow up and iron out the details with the Maserati dealership. We just need you to get our foot through the door. The whole shoot will be insured.” I went out on a limb. Xander coughed into his fist.

Nico’s eyes narrowed. “Somehow I think that’s the painkillers talking.”

“Don’t be a jackass,” Bianca groused.

“Sweetheart…” Ava admonished. This brought on a round of laughter again. Because it was well known that Bianca had picked up cussing since she was five. That was what happened when you grew up around three brothers and the mob.

“I’ll think about it.” Nico gave his dad and Matteo a withering stare. “Please jump in anytime.”

Cesar took his seat at the head of the table. “You’re handling her just fine.”

“Don’t look at me. She’s your problem now,” Matteo added, taking his seat beside Cesar.

We followed suit, and I found myself seated between Nico and Xander. Bianca was sitting across from Nico. It was a huge dining table that sat twelve, so there were empty seats towards one end.

“You all make me sound like an unwanted stepchild.” Damn, Bianca did puppy dog eyes so well, not to mention that the pout was cute, even I would give in. I pity the man who would get wrapped around her fingers. He didn’t stand a chance.

“The drama.” Nico spooned scrambled eggs onto my plate. “Will you have trouble chewing?”

“Not if I do it slowly,” I replied. “And no, you’re not depriving me of bacon. And bagels.”

“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of anything.” Nico shot me a grin.

I started to smile back when I noticed silence descended on the table. Everyone was staring at us, trying to read something between Nico and me. It was hard to tell if the burning in my face was from the swelling or embarrassment.

Bianca stared at us and said, “Did I miss something?”