The Vatican - M.E. Clayton Page 0,10

Emerald. By all accounts, the man seemed on the up and up, and he knew who I was and hadn’t run off screaming in the other direction, so that was a plus. I’ve had a lot of people balk at the mention of my last name, and I’ve had dates who turned themselves into nervous wrecks wondering if they were going to get slaughtered in their sleep if they forgot an anniversary.

I didn’t suffer weak men easily.

I couldn’t.

I’ve been raised by the strongest, deadliest men around. Hell, even the males still in high school were deadly as hell. If I brought home a wimp, he’d be skinned alive.

My phone chimed with an incoming text, and when I opened it, it was Geno letting me know he was outside. Now, I might be ready to have him visit me in my home, but there’s no way he was getting access to the building. It’d be me getting skinned alive if I allowed that.

I fired off a text to let him know I was on my way down.

Our door guards saw me coming and stepped aside, so I could meet Geno. With Mica behind me, he explained that Geno’s been here before, and it was okay. I had no doubt one of them would contact my dad as soon as we got in the elevator, but Dad trusted me and my decisions.

I think.

“Hey,” I greeted, smiling to try to ease the tension in the guards. “Is that pepperoni and olives?”

Geno smiled. “It’s a combination with jalapenos,” he countered. “You can pick off what you don’t like.” I laughed. That was another thing I liked about Geno; he didn’t kiss my ass.

“Perfect.”

Mica stepped aside, making room for me and Geno to enter the lobby. All three of us got into the elevator and when we got off on the fourth floor, Mica patted Geno down before heading back into his apartment.

When the door closed behind us, Geno set the pizza down on the coffee table, saying, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.”

I laughed from the kitchen where I was getting the plates and napkins. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he called back. “I get it.”

Like we’ve done this a million times, Geno passed me, walking into the kitchen, as I walked into the living room with the plates and napkins. “What do you want to drink?”

“A Pepsi,” I replied as I set our plates up. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.” I almost cringed when I realized how that might sound.

“Pepsi, it is,” he said, ignoring my poor choice of words. Not that I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to have sex with him, but we weren’t there yet. This still felt like the friend stage, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable if he wasn’t ready to move forward-if he even wanted to.

Geno came back with two cans of soda, and we got comfortable.

Between mouthfuls of pizza, I asked, “What are you going out of town for?”

“We landed a client who is a jackass but has enough money to make the higher-ups cater to his whims,” he replied. “He wants us to secure him a property in Newstead.”

“You can’t work with a realtor in Newstead for that?”

“I can,” he chuckled. “But Mr. Strathmore needs to feel that we’re exclusive to his needs.”

I laughed. “Oh, he’s one of those. You’re going to be his realtor.”

Geno nodded. “Yeah. If we don’t handle it personally, then we’re just handing his business off as if he’s a bother.”

I shook my head. “People like that ama-” A knock at the door stopped me.

Geno’s brows shot up. “Expecting someone?” he asked. The continued firm knocks on my front door had me getting up instead of answering Geno.

When I got to the door, I looked out the peephole and saw my father standing on the other side, looking irritated.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“What?” Geno asked, already getting on his feet.

I turned around. “It’s my dad,” I told him.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled.

“Open up the door, Luca,” Dad demanded through the door.

“Luca?”

I grimaced. “It’s my name,” I confessed. “Luca Saveria Fiore.”

Geno’s eyes bugged. “Holy fuck. You’re named after Luca Benetti?”

“Luca!” Dad calling me Luca was a bad sign, so I opened the door and put the discussion of my name on hold for another time.

Dad stormed in, and I shut the door behind me. “Hey, Dad,” I said cheerfully. “What a nice surprise.”

He turned to face me and lifted a brow. “Is it?” he asked coolly.

I kept