Committed

by Penelope Sky

  Sexy.

  She was one of those women who spent a great deal of time perfecting her features, wearing the perfect makeup, styling her hair every morning even though she had to get up at the crack of dawn, and clearly hitting the weights to have an ass like that.

  Fuck, I needed to focus.

  She approached my desk with her black purse hanging in the crook of her elbow. “Damien, Annabella.” She stuck out her hand to shake mine.

  It took me a second to process her professionalism because I’d already made an assumption about her character based on how fucking pretty she was. I expected her to be stupid…shame on me.

  I got to my feet and took her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  She smiled before she dropped my hand and sat down.

  After the initial high passed, I sat down again and tried to pretend she was a man. “How can I help you?”

  She crossed her legs and set her purse on the table beside her. Her dress rose slightly as she crossed her legs, and the outfit was provocative in those boots. The skin of her thigh was lightly tanned and clearly toned. “An apartment that I love has opened up, and if I want to secure it, I need to wire the money tonight. So, thank you for seeing me at the last minute. I appreciate it.”

  Why was she buying an apartment? “I treat my clients like family. I’m happy to help you.” I turned back to my computer. “How much money are we wiring for the transaction?” I found it odd that her husband wasn’t here and that she didn’t mention him, but my clients came here because of our discretion.

  “Fifty thousand euros.”

  I wanted to raise an eyebrow, but I kept my expression stoic. “Alright.” I looked through her various accounts. “Which account are we using today?” I picked the one with the highest amount of funds, which totaled over a hundred million euros.

  “Those accounts aren’t mine.” She spoke in a calm manner, her voice subdued and slightly quiet.

  “I see Liam De Luca and Annabella De Luca. That’s you and your husband, correct?”

  It was the first time she didn’t seem as in control. She fidgeted slightly and broke eye contact. “No. That’s my ex-husband. I’ve asked him to remove me from the account, and he still hasn’t done it.”

  I was never interested in the drama of my clients’ lives, but I was curious about this. And I was a bit intrigued that she was single.

  “If you bring me the settlement from your divorce, I can separate the funds into different accounts and get you off this one.”

  “I don’t want his money.” Her tone was suddenly stern, like a button had been pressed with a fat thumb.

  I tried to remain indifferent, but it was getting harder as the conversation continued. “According to law, you’re entitled to a fair percentage of your joint assets. If you—”

  “I’m fully aware of what I’m entitled to.” Without raising her voice, she somehow commanded the room by simply changing her tone. It was obvious she was passionate about the subject. “I didn’t want his money when I married him, and I certainly don’t want it now. Please remove me from the account.”

  I tried not to stare at her, tried not to be transfixed by the sternness of her gaze. “As you wish. Do you have another account?”

  “Yes. Annabella Lazio. Your assistant must’ve used my married last name.”

  I typed in her name and saw her funds.

  She was broke.

  She had enough money to complete the transaction she was asking, but very little on top of that. I never reacted to my clients’ incomes because they were all multimillionaires and billionaires. Honestly, she shouldn’t even have been a client of mine because she had no need for my services. She didn’t need money laundering or government assistance. But I wasn’t going to be an ass to this gorgeous woman. “Where am I sending the funds?”

  She pulled out a document from her purse and set it in front of me. It contained the wiring directions to send the funds to the escrow company. There was usually a fee to do this kind of transaction, but I decided to waive it because if I didn’t, she might not be able to eat. I worked on the computer in silence.

  Minutes passed, and she didn’t make small talk. She didn’t talk shit about her husband or gossip about the details of her divorce. People were usually so bitter, they aired their dirty laundry to anyone who would listen.

  But she was tight-lipped.

  I finished the task then printed out the confirmation code. “Done.” I set the paper on the desk.

  She grabbed it with her painted fingernails and read the details before she folded it up and placed it in her purse. “Thank you.” She rose to her feet and extended her hand to shake mine.

  I took it and felt my fingers automatically squeeze her wrist. I looked into her blue eyes and felt compelled to give her some kind of advice, to help her when I didn’t even know her. She’d only been in my office for ten minutes, but I felt some sort of connection to her. “I understand you are angry and stubborn right now. But his money was your money, and you are fairly entitled to half of it.” I didn’t want this beautiful woman to stress about money every single day, to take the hard way just because she was stubborn. After a few months, she would regret that decision.

  Her blue eyes slightly narrowed in offense. “I don’t need your pity.” She dropped her hand and stepped away from my desk. “I’ll be just fine.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder then strutted out of my office like she was still a billionaire.

  I arrived at the lab and got to work. When I told Hades I didn’t need him, it was a lie. I was working a hell of a lot more now than I used to. That meant more hours for me, but since I didn’t have anything else to do, it wasn’t the end of the world.

  When I was home, I just drank.

  One of my four men came up to me before I went to the office. “Damien.”

  I didn’t bother to look at him. “What?”

  “We’ve got trouble.”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face him. Maddox had only been dead for a few months, and I wasn’t ready for more drama. With him out of the way, I was at the top of the food chain, so I shouldn’t be afraid of anybody. I just didn’t want a pain in the ass. “What?”

  He looked hesitant, as if telling me this news would result in his neck being snapped. “The Skull King stopped by…said he wants to talk to you.”

  Hades and I had managed to escape the clutches of the Skull Kings because they had so many other projects to worry about, including a war on Lucian and something about a woman. They were too busy to care about us. But now that Balto was gone and his twin Heath replaced him, it looked like things had changed. “God-Fucking-Dammit.”

  I was working in my office when my curiosity got the best of me.

  I went into Annabella’s account to snoop.

  I had no idea why; I would never see her again. She was newly divorced, so why would I want to get involved in something like that? There was just something about her that intrigued me, the way she started over with nothing so fearlessly.

  The way I had to start over.

  I looked at her recent paychecks to see where she worked.

  She was a waitress.

  That only made me feel worse. How was she supposed to support herself in Florence on a salary like that? Maybe she had a side hustle that was paid under the table. If she really got desperate for money, it would be easy for her to be a stripper…with a body like that.

  “How are you?”

  I nearly jumped out of my chair because I got caught red-handed doing something I shouldn’t. “Shit.”

  Sofia walked inside in leggings and a loose sweater and approached my desk. “What? Looking at porn or something?”

  I shut my laptop. “What do you want?”

  “Someone’s in a bad mood…”

  I cast her a cold gaze.

  She continued to stand there and stare at me expectantly, like she wanted me to say something. “Everything alright?”

  I considered telli
ng her about Heath, the new Skull King who wanted me to pay my business taxes. I knew that conversation wouldn’t go well, and there would probably be stab wounds as a consequence. But then I realized my problems weren’t her problems. They weren’t Hades’s problems. I was on my own now. “Just a long day…” I ran my fingers through my hair and relaxed in the chair.

  She was quiet for a while before she kept talking. “Well, I have some good news to share.”

  My temper flared because of my bottled-up frustration and my deep depression. “Look, Hades and I don’t speak. And if we don’t speak, why the fuck do we have to speak?”

  Her eyes immediately dilated in offense.

  “Our only connection was Hades, and now he’s just a piece-of-shit bastard, so there’s no point in us continuing whatever the fuck this is.” It was cold, harsh. No, it was cruel. But seeing her only reminded of the person I never wanted to think about again. I wanted to move on with my life and forget he ever existed.

  She gave me a pained look of disappointment as she stood with her hands on her hips. She stared me down a long time before she took a step back. “You don’t want to be my friend? Fine. But I’ll always be yours.”

  31

  Annabella

  I got lucky that Damien helped me at 4:59 PM because if he hadn’t, I would’ve been on the street for the night. My lease had ended at my other place, and I was going to get kicked out unless I got this apartment.

  I also needed this apartment because it was the only decent place I could afford. The owner had been relocated for work and needed to sell it as quickly as possible to use the money as a down payment on his new place

  So I got a deal.

  I needed as many deals as I could get…

  I spent the evening with the TV on in the background while I unloaded and unpacked all the boxes that comprised of my life. It was all my clothes and personal possessions, and when I saw it all packaged up, I realized my life was just a small accumulation of junk.

  I spent my best years with my ex-husband, filling my life with memories that made me feel rich. Losing him made me realize I’d lost everything else too. I lost my friends, social acquaintances, relationships…everything. He was the rich and powerful one, so even though our divorce was entirely his fault, they chose him over me.

  What a fairy tale.

  I tried not to feel bad for myself because I knew I would pick up the pieces and come out stronger in the end. I could start over. I’d done it before. I’d do it again. Getting married, though…not sure if I could ever do that again.

  It’d been six months since we signed the divorce papers, so it was still raw but there had been a good amount of time for us to move on.

  But he continued to call me.

  As if he could read my thoughts, my phone lit up with a phone call from him.

  I watched it ring on the table, the light filling my dark apartment. I was never enticed to answer. Damage was done. I’d already moved on.

  It went to voice mail.

  I kept unpacking.

  A minute later, my screen lit up with a text message.

  It was Liam. Talk to me.

  I ignored him.

  Anna.

  I had gotten a new phone and changed my number, but he still tracked me down. I blocked his number, but that only made him show up on my doorstep instead. He hadn’t moved on, and he had this ridiculous notion in his head that he might be able to win me back.

  Never.

  When his text messages kept coming in, I turned off my phone so I wouldn’t have to see or hear it.

  I worked at a bistro in the city, a casual place with a couple tables in a small restaurant. It wasn’t a fine-dining experience, mainly a common place for lunch. The menu mostly consisted of sandwiches and salads, and our very delicious tiramisu.

  I knew it was delicious because I ate it all the time.

  I’d just finished delivering food to a table when a previously empty table was taken by a new customer. I pulled out my notepad and pencil and smoothed down my apron before I approached the stranger.

  When I was almost there, I lifted my gaze and looked into the eyes of someone I already knew.

  Masculine features, intense eyes, and a rough jaw all made up the man looking at me. With his Omega watch on his wrist, his arms out on the table, and his shiny shoes noticeable next to his chair, he made the restaurant stink of cash. He looked at me with fearless eyes, ready for whatever reaction I was about to have to him.

  It took me a few seconds to process what had just happened. It was the suit from the bank, the guy who helped my transaction go through. He pitied me, which was obnoxious. He probably thought I was some poor, weak girl who would be impressed by his fat wallet.

  I was only impressed by a fat dick.

  I held the pencil to the notepad. “What can I get you?”

  He glanced at the menu for a second before he turned back to me. “Coffee. Black.” He handed the menu to me. “And the seasonal salad.”

  I tucked the menu under my arm and walked away.

  “I know you recognize me.”

  I should keep walking and not give in to his comment, but I was a temperamental woman who became irrational quickly. I turned back around and approached him with one hand on my hip. “No, I don’t.”

  He smiled in an amused way. “Come on, I’m a handsome guy.”

  “It’s nice that you think so.” I turned around and walked away again. I tended to my other tables and pretended he didn’t exist. Even though he’d caught me off guard, I managed to appear indifferent to his visit.

  When his coffee was ready, I grabbed it from the barista and carried it to his table. I leaned down as I set it in front of him. “Here you are, sir. Your lunch will be ready soon.” I straightened next to the table and continued to pretend to be unaffected by his surprise visit. After I’d walked out of his office, I hadn’t thought about him again. Yes, he was a good-looking man, but it took more than that to catch my attention.

  He spoke before I walked away. “It’s Damien. You can drop that sir bullshit.”

  “I call all my customers sir.”

  He smiled. “Even the chicks?”

  I perfected my posture and held myself rigidly as I looked down at this arrogant man. He was witty and smart, like being good-looking wasn’t enough. The man had everything…which was annoying. “Do you stalk all your clients?”

  “Having lunch constitutes stalking?” He grabbed the mug by the handle and took a quick drink, the steam rising past his face before he licked his lips and returned it to the saucer. When he moved his arm, his fancy cuff links were noticeable, looking more expensive than all my jewelry combined. He was another rich pretty boy, the kind that thought he could get away with anything…just like my ex-husband.

  “If you aren’t here to see me, I’ll get back to work.” Before he could say another word, I walked off and took care of the rest of my tables as if he didn’t exist.

  I hooked my apron on the back wall and clocked out. My hair was pulled out of my ponytail so my strands could be free. One of the things I hated about working with food was having to keep my hair back. Most of the time, the restraint was too hard, and it gave me a headache. So, the second I could, I let my hair go free…even if there was a crease in it.

  I left the room with my purse over my shoulder and headed to the door.

  Damien was still there. His eyes followed my movements, and when he saw me focused on the door, he rose to his feet and got to the entryway first. He opened the door wide, acting like a gentleman. When he was out of the chair, it was clear how tall he was. I’d never noticed because he was sitting behind the desk during our first interaction. With one hand on the door, he stared at me as he waited for me to cross the threshold.

  In defiance, I stopped and stared at him, annoyed by the chivalrous act.

  My annoyance seemed to amuse him because he gave a slight smile that reached his eyes. He had very strong, masculine features, eyes full of
warning and a jawline so sharp it could cut glass, but when he smiled like that, he had a boyish innocence.

  I stepped outside and joined him on the sidewalk. “Thank you.” I forced out the sentiment because it would be unacceptable to be impolite. I was annoyed that he was following me around, but at least he was being a nice guy.

  Damien moved beside me and joined me on my walk to my apartment. He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks, sticking out compared to all the casual people on the sidewalk. He looked like a man who didn’t walk anywhere because he had a private driver at his beck and call. “Want a ride home?”

  I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. “Damien, how can I help you?” I had only had one interaction with him that was strictly professional, and now he was trying to take me home. “I used your services at the bank under the assumption you would respect my privacy. Instead, you come to my place of work, and now you’re walking with me as if we know each other. It’s inappropriate.” Maybe I was being harsh, but he’d abused his power.

  With his hands still in his pockets, his body pivoted toward me, and he stared at me with a cold expression. His boyish charm was gone, and now there was a terrifying coldness about him. His eyes didn’t blink as they looked into mine, and he held the silence like he thrived in it. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  He slowly raised an eyebrow, and that serious expression deepened into a terrifying one. “I can get a woman anywhere, anytime. I don’t need to follow a client like this to get a date.”

  “So, I’m supposed to be flattered?” I asked sarcastically.

  “A little.”

  I rolled my eyes before I started to walk again.

  Instead of that being the end of our conversation, he caught up with me. “Annabella.” My name rolled off his tongue so well, so elegant when spoken in his masculine tone.

  The sound got me to stop walking, but I didn’t know why. “It’s Anna.”