Scorned Love: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Scorned Fate)
Scorned Love: Chapter 6

I didn’t think this through. Too brazen in my choice of outfit after our encounter in the hallway, but defiance flickered in me like an angry flame. I was wearing a button-down pinstripe shirt and deliberately left the top three buttons undone. I tucked it into a saffron-colored A-line skirt that hit mid-thigh. A lot of skin exposed. A lot of legs. And a lot of sass. Sass I strutted into the kitchen wearing school-bus-yellow platforms. All three men were already waiting for me. All three men turned in my direction the second my shoes announced my arrival. And all three men awarded me with varied reactions.

Nico’s eyes darkened and his mouth thinned. Xander was trying not to appear gleeful. As for Trevor, he looked away. No doubt to hide his amusement, because I didn’t imagine that flash of teeth just before he averted his gaze. My eyes returned to Nico and the heartbeat of silence sunk heavily with the challenge in my eyes, daring him to make a comment about my clothes.

He did not.

His answer was a grunt before he walked past me. “Let’s go.”

We all took the elevator to the lobby and then to the underground parking. I didn’t know how Nico managed to park when I only had two parking spaces assigned to me.

He bleeped the locks to a Dodge Charger. I’d been expecting the Maserati SUV, but obviously this was his fun weekend car.

“You’re not allowed to park there.” I gestured toward a spot belonging to another resident. Nico’s answer was to put his hand at the small of my back and lead me to the passenger side. He opened the door and waited patiently while I struggled to get into the vehicle. He wasn’t going anywhere until I had my ass firmly planted in the seat. My short skirt rode up my thighs. Nowhere in my payback plan had I anticipated flashing Nico with my white panties.

After closing my door, he rounded the car. I was thankful for the few seconds that allowed me to tug my skirt and dignity back into place. He told the rest of the guys that we’d meet them later.

When he slid into the driver’s seat, I said, “Why couldn’t we just do this later when Xander and Bianca are available?”

“I’m a fan of saving time.” He revved the engine. There was no question it was a souped-up car. I wondered if he raced? I thought about how Matteo wrecked his Jaguar to save Sera.

“I see your point,” I said. “But you really didn’t have to trouble yourself if you had somewhere else to be this weekend. And I certainly didn’t want you deprived of your sleep.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, backing the powerful car out of its illegal parking.

“Excuse me?”

“You have no idea…” he said in measured tones. “What deprives me of sleep at night.”

I thought about this for a second. “True. I just don’t understand why Trevor couldn’t go with me.”

“He has no access to the third floor.”

“Oh.”

“It’s the weekend and you’ll need a security card to get in. We’ll get everyone access on Monday. For now, I’m your ticket to the third floor.”

“I really appreciate your help.”

He gave an irritated deep exhale. “You’re Daniel’s sister.”

Nico was telling me it was his duty. Fair enough. I wasn’t getting in between their bro-code. I knew Daniel would step up if Bianca was in trouble and he could help.

We made the rest of the trip in silence, but I couldn’t help feeling that something had altered between us. Maybe because we’d never been in an enclosed space with just the two of us.

Last March, Nico went to Europe supposedly for De Lucci Transnational business. When he returned in June for Matteo and Sera’s wedding, a cloud of grimness had settled around him and he’d grown icier, more remote. I wondered if something had happened during that time.

I never asked Sera about it, especially since he’d been an ass just before the wedding when he made the fence-post remark. We’d always sniped at each other, but it was never personal like this. And although I tried to play it off as Nico being protective of Bianca, it certainly built up my walls against him.

Sera knew about an incident between us, but neither Bianca—who was present when he made that comment—nor I revealed what Nico said. I didn’t want any friction so close to the wedding. I didn’t care what Nico thought of me anyway.

Who was I kidding?

Sometimes it grated. It grated because it was an insecurity I had to overcome. The scars on the inside of my leg itched.

I would never put myself in a situation like that again.

When we arrived at the De Lucci Transnational offices, Nico drove the vehicle to the back of the building and tapped his wallet on an external reader. The gates opened. He drove through. Parking space was a premium in Manhattan. Newer buildings even had those robotic parking garages with costs as much as three hundred thousand for a space. Of course, his parking spot was near the elevators.

Not waiting for him to cut the engine, I opened the door, stepped out, and swept imaginary lint from my skirt. I’d never been this awkward around Nico. It was as if, in the absence of other people, he became a stranger.

When we stepped into the elevator, I said, “I can’t stand this version of you.”

His body froze. “This version?”

“This.” My hand shot out and did an up-and-down motion. “Not once today have you called me Poison Ivy.” He called me princess. “And I’m not sure if you resent babysitting duty—”

He let out a laugh that held no trace of humor, only mockery, which pissed me off, but before I could react, I noticed we passed the third floor.

“I think you picked the wrong floor.”

“I need to get the keys to the area.” Before the elevator reached the twenty-second floor, he punched the stop button.

The elevator jarred, and I gripped the elevator rails, leaning against them. “What the hell, Nico?!”

He was in front of me. All heat and clean soap, all man and worn leather. A hint of cigarettes, not in a gagging sort of way, but in a rebel-without-a-cause charisma.

“What are you doing?” I whispered. The words barely scraped past my lips because my heart clogged my throat and my lungs squeezed tight.

Nico’s face was scant millimeters away. One could even say we were sharing the same oxygen, except I wasn’t sure I was breathing. Stares locked, lips hovered, and I realized we were on the verge of no return.

“Damned if I know.” He cupped my ass. I inhaled sharply and forgot my exhale when he brought my hips forward. He was hard. The ridge of his cock made a single stroke against the layers covering my pussy. The stroke felt like a branding iron. Wet heat exploded between my legs. I’d been a trigger all morning, and Nico knew exactly what to do. My core was throbbing for release. It would be so easy for him to take out his cock, shove up my skirt, push aside my panties, and drive inside me.

Oh, God, I’ll be damned before he finds me soaking wet. That one self-preserving thought had me saying, “Does that mean you think I’m a little sexy?” I matched his mockery from earlier. Whatever was happening between us was too fast and too weird. I was equal parts aroused and wary.

His gaze grew tortured. It pierced straight into me. A pained chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Your short skirt is driving me nuts, and this pink bottom lip.” His thumb brushed my lower lip and his mouth came closer.

We were panting against each other now.

“This is crazy,” I blurted before his mouth touched mine. I think it already did, but my words jolted him from whatever trance he was in.

I lost his heat and he was at the opposite side of the elevator, cursing, muttering an apology. He punched the red button so the elevator could resume its ascent.

I was still plastered against the wall with my fingers in a death grip around the bars. My breathing came in ragged, short bursts.

“I’m really sorry, Ivy.” It was a rare occasion he called me by my name without “Poison” attached to it, but why did I feel like we lost something? “That shouldn’t have happened.” He was staring at a spot beside my shoe, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“I agree,” I said. “But does that mean we won’t find each other annoying anymore?”

His eyes whipped to mine, narrowing. “On the contrary.”

“What?”

The elevator doors sliding open saved him from answering, and he exited without even waiting for me. Yup, the asshole was back. Not that I was waiting for gentlemanly gestures. I wasn’t his girlfriend. Technically, he was my bodyguard and, as of this moment, landlord.

Nico’s lengthy strides ate up the distance to his office. Even with my five-six height and long legs, I had trouble catching up with him, probably because of my platforms. I’d been to this floor before and knew the lay of the land. By the time I reached the reception area to his office, he was on the return trip.

He strode past me with keys in hand. “You should’ve waited for me by the elevators.”

“Duh, I know that,” I told him, even when I only realized it belatedly. Nico flashed me his familiar arrogant smirk, and that gave me a bit of relief. I didn’t want things to get awkward between us, especially now that we’d be working in the same building short term and God knew how many times I’d be running into him.

Our normal was antagonistic toward each other and not what happened in the elevator.

When the elevator car arrived, we both hesitated to enter it. A smile tugged at my lips and I stepped in first.

Nico followed more slowly. We stood side by side without addressing each other. I wasn’t sure if it was leftover tension from our mystifying encounter, but a gust of laughter escaped my lips before I could suppress it.

“You find what happened amusing?” he asked. His tone was deep and husky, as if he hadn’t used his vocal cords in a while.

“No. I was just thinking how in movies or TV, the most inappropriate encounters happen in an elevator.”

“Or the most grisly ones,” he countered.

We were back to fighting form. I considered myself the winner of this round, though. At least I wasn’t in denial of what happened.

A surge of satisfaction coursed through my veins. My short skirt and I weren’t done with him.

Nico

If temptation had a name, it would be Ivy Wu.

She opened a window and peeked outside. Her skirt rose to just below her ass, exposing those long legs that were so toned, I could probably bounce a proverbial quarter off them.

I groaned inwardly.

She’d hidden those legs in their boutique’s signature long skirts for as long as I’d known her. She chose today of all days to wear a miniskirt.

I’d bet my left nut it was to prove a point, make me choke on my words that she had no sex appeal.

I raised the coffee to my lips and probably swallowed my tongue when she twirled and gave me an eyeful of virginal white panties.

She flashed me a knowing smile.

The minx.

Then she raised her phone and crooked her finger with her free hand.

“No,” I growled.

“Oh, come on, Nico, be my videographer.”

“No fucking way.”

Her mouth twisted into a smile. I didn’t trust that smile. She pointed the camera at me and started talking. Fuck. She was making a video of me.

I stalked toward her and tried to grab the device out of her hands. Squealed laughter erupted from her and she sprinted away.

“Ivy.” I injected all the seriousness in my voice.

“Come on, Nico. Pretty please. You owe me.” I had no illusions that her sweet voice was for the benefit of the video because her eyes gleamed something else. Mischief. Payback. If her goal was to drive me out of my mind, then she was succeeding.

“Owe you for what? And you better not post that.”

I lunged, and she tried to escape me again. I caught her around the waist and hauled her against me. She wiggled that ass against my crotch. Of course I got hard. Since yesterday, every time I thought of Ivy Wu, I got hard. I couldn’t sleep last night because of it and it pissed me off.

It was as if seeing that video of her kicking ass was the trigger. My cock was like Pavlov’s dog where she was concerned, brainwashed to dominate this woman.

But it was wrong. So fucking wrong.

She was Daniel’s baby sister.

We were still repairing the fallout of Matteo falling for Sera. I was on my brother’s side on this. Daniel was a coward for putting Sera on the back burner.

I bent Ivy over. Hell, I could fuck her like this. Toss that skirt up, drag those panties down, and shove inside her. I reached for the phone. She was still laughing, holding it away. The phone clattered to the floor. I let her go and she dove for it.

I was fighting against the blood surging south and trying not to think of how it would be so easy to follow her down to the floor and have filthy sex with her.

I stilled and groaned.

Ivy Wu was definitely having her revenge.

She was on her knees, sitting back on her heels, lips twisting all directions in mirth, unaware that my mind had gone in an altogether different direction. “I should post this video in its entirety. Make your Ivy in the City debut.”

I invaded what personal space she had. Take out my cock and wrap those sassy lips around it. “If you post it, I’ll sue.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you won’t.” She looked up, and finally we were on the same wavelength. Her mouth fell open comically, but all I could think was open wider and take me down your throat.

I lost the battle with my erection, sporting a semi. I was thankful I wore dark military cargoes or it would have been painful.

“You’re not using this face for free,” I told her.

She tried not to look at the clear outline of my cock in front of her. “Are we talking about some form of payment?”

My eyes gleamed. “I’m open to suggestions.”

She looked past me and grinned slyly.

“What the hell is going on?”

Bianca.

Fuck.

At least my back was to the door and my sister was definitely a boner killer.

“Your brother is asking for a blow job so I could post our video,” Ivy said, rising to her feet.

I heard laughter behind me. Sounded like Xander and Trevor. Great.

Still not facing the door, I said, “You always seem to find yourself in compromising situations.”

She smirked at me. “It seems to be my superpower.”

“Obviously.” I pivoted behind her and wrapped an arm around her chest. I dragged her against me, partly to give my erection more time to go down, but mostly to have her delete the video. “Do it, princess. Delete the video.”

She gave an exaggerated sigh. “There.”

“You better not undelete that.”

“For fuck’s sake.” She broke free and shoved me away. “You’re such a killjoy.”

She strutted her way to Xander.

All through this, I’d ignored the people in the room. I maintained a bored neutral expression even when my blood roared at the loss of contact. This was extremely disturbing.

I nodded to Trevor over Bianca’s head while my sister headed straight for me. “Is something going on between the two of you?”

“No.”

“Because now’s not the time to mess with her.”

“Are you worried I’m going to get my ass kicked?”

She looked at me strangely. “Now that you mention it. That didn’t even occur to me.”

“Then are you worried I might fuck up your chances of being in the show?”

“I’m not that selfish, but it’s related,” Bianca said. “Anyone can see she has a lot riding on fashion week. She doesn’t need the distraction.”

“You don’t have to worry there.” I looked up to where Ivy was gesturing around the space to Xander. “We’re back to our antagonistic selves.” I feigned checking my watch. “In fact, I need to be on a call with the UK.”

“You’re not leaving the country again, are you? You just got back.” Bianca hugged my torso. My arms came around her.

“No, not any time this year, at least.” I kissed the top of her head. “Gotta go.”

I stopped by where Trevor stood by the entrance. “Wipe that smirk off your face. It’s not what you think.”

He made a zipping gesture across his mouth. “I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s all over your damned face. They’re all yours. Drop Bianca off at Hell’s Kitchen if you can.” I checked on Ivy. As if feeling my gaze on her, she glanced at me briefly before returning her attention to Xander. “I’ll be in my office for an hour or two.”

Minutes later, I was in front of my laptop. I brought up the files on the Scavo brothers, but my target was the acting boss.

Over thirteen years ago, when I was fourteen, I’d been a scrawny kid. It took me three years to bulk up. For two of those years, I had a bully and his name was Joseph “Joe Lollipop” Rossi.

He’d been out of my reach for the past decade. He’d been in jail for a crime that was a less serious charge than the one I wanted to exact vengeance for.

Because of him, a friend was dead.

Someone else went away for that death, but I held Joe responsible.

Last March, he was released from prison and was tapped to be the Rossi crime family acting boss. Despite his incarceration, I always believed Joe had a lot of influence.

I had pushed for the De Luccis to go after him, but Dom shut me down. I wasn’t mafia. I was proposing to whack a made man and everyone was nervous I’d start a war.

The family held an intervention. Dom, Dad, Uncle Paulie, and Matteo wanted me to leave the country so I wouldn’t stew while Joe threw his weight around. They sent me to Europe for three months to cool off.

I returned for Matteo and Sera’s wedding. I stayed because finally, the family was seeing Joe the way I’d always seen him. Joe Lollipop’s method was still bullying, but he was doing it now on a grander scale and other crime families were noticing.

Dom gave me the go-ahead to gather intel. We weren’t going the mafia route, but Archers. I had information on Joe’s personal finances—but I needed to dig deeper. Last night, I was in their Brooklyn stronghold, connecting with my informants, but I may have found a way to get close to him.

It was tempting to use Ivy as bait.

But with the way I was reacting to her, I was compromised and could fuck things up.

For everyone.