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

Nico De Lucci was driving me crazy. He didn’t last overnight as my security person and Trevor was back as my bodyguard the following morning. What he did leave me was a super-sized serving of mind-fuckery.

It had been three days since he and I had sex. I saw him once in the elevators and he acted like he hadn’t fucked my brains out at my loft. All he gave me was a monotone “Miss Wu” greeting, and a nod so brief I doubted a motion detector would have registered it.

Did he think I was going to become clingy after sex? That I was going to be one of those women who said they didn’t want more and ended up becoming a Fatal Attraction-type psycho?

We both agreed that we were a bad idea, so why couldn’t we go back to our regular mode, which was to snipe at each other?

I really shouldn’t dwell on Nico because I had enough to deal with given our upcoming event and all the issues that came with it.

I entered our third-floor studio and surveyed the bustle of activity. Models, makeup up artists, wardrobe specialists. Xander was talking to our trio of size-zero models, the CENs, also known as Claudia, Elektra, and Nora. Aspiring to be the next trinity of supermodels, they perfected the runway scowl with diva personalities to match. Amazing qualities to have on the catwalk, but they were also a pain in the ass when it came to makeup, wardrobe fittings, and dietary restrictions.

But they weren’t our only models. Being the boss had its drawbacks when dealing with personnel conflict and clashing personalities. Even when I could be diplomatic, there would always be a problem of taking sides. Katie had enough on her plate running the business side of things, so she didn’t need the girl drama that usually came with these types of events. And although we had an HR department at Wheeler Corp, Xander and I handled the artistic hiring like the models.

Bianca looked up from where she was talking to Katie. I grinned at her and waved her over. She was a godsend.

“Thank you for being the referee between Tracy and the CENs.”

“Tracy likes to tease them to live a little.” Bianca shook her head in amusement. “I don’t blame her. Elektra almost fainted during the shoot yesterday.”

Apparently, Tracy told her to eat a donut.

And Elektra responded she didn’t need for it to show up in her ass like Tracy.

Claudia and Nora flanked Elektra to give Tracy more shit.

And that was when Bianca had stepped in.

I watched Tracy walk over to Elektra. I didn’t hear what they exchanged, but a hint of a smile touched Elektra’s lips.

“They seem to be getting along this morning,” I noted. “So, what did you tell them?”

“It helped that I could see the issues from both sides. I love to eat like Tracy, but I struggle to remain slim like Elektra. The root of the problem is our different relationships with food. By the way, Tracy has thicker skin. She could take more straight talk, so I told her to give the CENs more time to adjust to the schedule and not be a biatch.”

We both snigger-snorted at this.

“She could have left off the sarcasm when she told Elektra to eat,” Bianca continued. “Now, Elektra’s sensitive. I told her Tracy didn’t mean to be snarky, only that it was obviously low blood sugar that made her almost faint and a donut would have been a quick fix.”

“I should create a Donateka HR department and put you in charge,” I said.

“Xander said I can be the model whisperer,” Bianca quipped.

We laughed.

Katie approached us, phone to ear, with a serious look on her face. “Marie Pierre is at reception.”

And this was exactly why it had been critical for all of us to present a united front this morning.

Edward had come through with Glamourique’s editor.

I exhaled a fortifying breath. “Showtime.”

I took Edward’s advice and stood back when Marie Pierre swept into our studio with her entourage and let Xander and Katie handle her. Edward tipped me off that Miss Pierre wasn’t a fan of my fashion and lifestyle social media accounts. That I mixed it with everyday tribulations like water retention and zits, and they diminished the illusion of perfection that was Glamourique’s brand.

It was the European influence, according to Edward.

I didn’t fully agree, but it was enough that we had Marie Pierre in the house.

So, I stood by the sidelines with Bianca.

We had eight core models for the catalog. A dozen more were planned for fashion week. And with Marie Pierre finally doing a look-see into our brand, we had to straddle the line between our vision and what was mainstream. Still, I’d love to get plus-size models on the runway. Tracy had recommended several and I was checking their social media right now.

“How are you holding up in the shoot and fittings?” I asked Bianca.

“I’m a bit puffy,” she said. “Too much of Mom’s cooking. Xander told me to reduce sodium intake. Nico told me he could teach me a few tricks to maximize leanness when fashion week arrives.”

“You’re not in a fitness competition,” I told her. “We’re not going for vascularity.”

“True.”

My phone pinged. It was Sera. She and Matteo were back from their honeymoon.

They were so cute together. Who knew Matteo could be so sweet.

Hmm. Bianca had mentioned her mother’s dinner. Even Xander was going. That meant Nico would be there, too. I wasn’t sure socializing with him around was a good idea. But I had an alibi, even if it was lame.

If there was someone who was persistent, it was Sera. My phone started ringing. I was about to step out of the room and swipe answer when Bianca nudged me. Xander was waving me over to their huddle, a barely suppressed smile on his face. Definitely a sign of good news. I declined Sera’s call and messaged.

I walked over to where my cousin and Katie were in a serious discussion with Marie Pierre and her team. They were holding up a few pieces against Tracy and Claudia.

Miss Pierre finished her conversation with Katie before acknowledging my presence. She looked me up and down. “Why are you not one of the mannequins?”

Taken aback by her statement, I managed, “I prefer to be on the sidelines for this. The runway is not my thing.”

“You have no problem when it’s social media.”

And that was why a lot of creators preferred to stay behind a camera. Keeping the smile pasted was a challenge. “I thought you wanted to keep it separate?”

“I never said that.”

I was about to mention that was what Edward had told me, but decided not to throw him under the bus. He came through for me.

“I’ll keep that option open.”

“I’m just saying.” Miss Pierre gestured to our makeshift runway, framing a circle with an index finger. “The optics would be amazing at the end of the show if you and Xander will make a bow. Make it a family brand.”

“I’ll consider it, but I really want it to be all about Xander,” I stated firmly. I didn’t want to say no, but I didn’t want to be pushed into a decision either. I was confused by what Edward told me and what she was saying.

“My assistant will contact you when to shoot Glamourique content.” She was already striding toward the door. Her entourage seemed to snap to attention and they immediately followed in her wake.

Xander, Katie, and I accompanied them to the elevators.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us,” Xander said.

“We look forward to seeing your complete collection.” She gave a small smile. And the three of us stood there until the elevator doors closed.

Xander and I turned to each other. There was a heartbeat of silence and then the excitement we’d been bottling inside erupted. We screamed, hugged, and jumped up and down. We grabbed Katie and included her in our hug.

Soon, Bianca and the models joined in and we crowded the hallway with our celebratory mood.

“We’re getting one of the prime runways,” Tracy said. “Not prime time.”

“Who cares,” Xander retorted. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Is it too early for champagne?” Bianca asked.

“No alcohol.” Katie put her foot down. “Fittings this afternoon.” She looked pointedly at Elektra. “No skipping lunch.”

“What’s for lunch, anyway?” I asked, walking alongside Katie on our return to the studio.

“We have to deal with different lifestyles and caloric intake, so we decided on a meal service.”

“And they’re fine with it?”

“Yes, Carlos is picking up the first order because it was last minute and a trial basis. If the girls don’t like it, we can try another.” Katie leaned into me conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, I ordered us fully loaded nachos.”

I stared down my front. “Oh, I don’t know, Katie, it seems I might be catwalking.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Xander said, coming back to us. He was on a high, and I didn’t want to deflate it with my negativity. “It’s all about the ruching and the boning.” He looked over to where the models were getting their hair done. “Tracy is my new muse. But don’t tell her that. Her head is big enough already.”

“She loves her curves,” Katie agreed.

“Positive body image no matter what size you are.” And I sure as hell was going to ascribe to that motto. Forget about my small boobs and embrace my strong gams. Insecurity comes and goes, but that’s life. Ups and downs. Sometimes on the same day.

When Carlos walked in with the food, everyone crowded around him. The look on his face made me laugh. He was like a kid in a candy store.

“You’re blushing, Carlos,” I teased.

“I don’t mind bringing these beautiful ladies their lunch every day.”

“Well, now the folks in the workroom will miss you.” My phone dinged again. If it was Sera, maybe we could grab that coffee this afternoon.

It was Nico.

My phone rang and Mr. Satan flashed on the screen, identifying the caller as Nico. Should I answer it? Might as well find out what he wanted. He didn’t even say hi when I answered.

“Bianca and Sera said you’re not coming tonight.”

“Furniture is getting delivered.”

“So after.”

“What, just drop and leave?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll come get you.”

I didn’t know why that pissed me off. Katie was looking at me with interest while Xander had his brow arched. Not a soul knew Nico and I had slept together. I walked to the window and hissed into the phone. “Are you messing with me?”

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, don’t give me that, De Lucci. You ignore me for three days and now you want me at your mom’s birthday party.”

“Why, Poison Ivy, it looks like you missed me.”

“Missed you? Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t like these mind games.”

There was a breadth of silence, and then, “That wasn’t my intent.”

“Well, I don’t care what your intent was. Stop calling and stop texting me unless you have to. Also, if I go to your mom’s birthday, Trevor can take me.”

“Gotcha.”

He ended the call.

That pissed me off too and made me want to hurl the phone.

My eyes went to Bianca. She was looking at me and then at her phone. I narrowed my eyes at Nico’s sister and stalked toward her. She grinned. A guilty one. “I guess that was Nico you were talking to.”

“Did you put your brother up to inviting me to Ava’s birthday?”

“Not really. We were in a family group text and I mentioned it. Sera jumped in and said I should try to convince you more and then Nico offered to do it.” She searched my face and shook her head. “And failed spectacularly. It looked like he pissed you off some more. Will you two ever get along?”

“Don’t count on it,” I muttered. “I’m going to try to come this evening, but I’m excited about the furniture. If they’re on time like they said they would be, then Trevor and I will be there.”

“You don’t want to deprive Trevor of Mom’s cooking, do you?”

My narrowed eyes turned into slits. “That’s blackmail.”

Bianca shot me an innocent smile.

“Ugh, they’re almost an hour late,” I told Trevor. It was already past six. The furniture was coming from their New Jersey warehouse.

Furniture shopping was a chore. I probably should have gone to a showroom and tried to at least test them out. Bianca sent me recs from her aunt, who had worked as an interior designer and gave me the company’s number. They furnished a lot of high-end residences in Long Island.

I chose cream leather couches for the living room. King-sized beds for the bedrooms. Different styles. Mine was more contemporary.

“That’s fine.”

“But you’re missing Ava’s cooking.” Nico’s mom was an excellent cook and restaurant maven. Talk about not only having lucky genes in the looks department but a business sense too. And they were such a great family. I didn’t know where the brothers’ broodiness came from. At least Sera set Matteo straight. That meant there was hope for Nico, but good luck to the woman who was going to be stuck with him. A twinge of regret speared me in the chest. Ugh, why? Did I want to be that woman? No. And I didn’t want to rock the relationships I already had. He was my best friend’s brother-in-law and we were still repairing the fallout between Daniel and Matteo.

I received a text from the delivery driver. “Their guy is at the loading dock, but the building’s operator is giving them a hard time. Probably because it’s past their office hours.” I picked up my purse.

“I’ll take care of it,” Trevor said. “I’ll bill you later.” He winked at me. Late deliveries always incurred a fee with building administration, but I paid a premium for my loft. The annual fees were obscene. Still, I doubted they paid their staff enough, so I’d rather tip them than go through proper request channels. That was the bill Trevor was talking about. I was glad he knew exactly what I intended to do.

While I waited for Trevor to return, I brought up the store’s website. I exited the living room onto the balcony. There was an outdoor teak set that I liked, but I wondered if it would vibe with the rest of the interior. Not that it mattered because it would suit my morning meditations, create my zen garden—

The back of my neck prickled. My eyes caught a flash of movement from the reflection on the guardrail. I didn’t hesitate, but tucked and rolled to the left. My phone went flying behind me while I ended with my knee cocked and ready to spring. A steel pipe bounced against the guardrail where I’d been standing a split second ago.

Three black-clad intruders stood before me. All wearing masks. None of them fitting the build of the Scavo brothers from what I could tell.

My heart pounded.

“Man, wouldn’t I want a piece of that.” The taller of the men, the one who swung the steel pipe, clutched his balls and gave them a tug. Ewww! The intruder was very similar in size and height to Nico.

“Is this going to be a fair fight?” I asked through clenched teeth. My shoulder took the brunt of my evasive maneuver and a knee throbbed.

“Oh missy.” The smallest of the three came forward. “We never fight fair, but we’d hate to break those pretty legs.”

“I’m under the De Lucci’s protection.”

“Means nothing to us. We’re not mafia.”

“Even if you’re not, obviously the Rossis hired you.” I fished for information and stood. Fight or flight flooded my system. A heavy concrete planter stood between us. We were facing each other, and on my right was the entrance to the living room.

My phone vibrated on the concrete flooring and flashed Mr. Satan.

Steel Pipe man chuckled. “Who’s Mr. Satan?”

“None of your goddamned business.”

Was Nico calling me because of Trevor? My mind scattered. I couldn’t think of him right now. Trevor, shit. Where was he? And how did these men gain access to the loft if not through his keycard?

“Your bodyguard is dead.” And as though Steel Pipe read my mind, he held up Trevor’s access card to my loft. “He’s not very good.”

“What do you want? Money? I have ten grand in the safe.” My thoughts ping-ponged on my next move.

“Money’s not why we’re here.”

“Oh, really. You guys are Rossi associates.”

Instead of confirming, Steel Pipe said, “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna kill you.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.” I edged closer to the loft. My phone beeped with a message.

“That we’ll leave you alive?”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll go to the police?” I debated taunting them with this, but I needed them to know they couldn’t bluff me.

“You didn’t go the first time.”

The middle man stepped forward with hands up in a boxer’s stance. “We just want to teach you a lesson. Some respect.”

My phone rang again. Decision made. I dove toward it and was ready.

I tucked and rolled and grabbed the device and was sprinting toward the living room. My knee and hips screamed, but I hoped to lock myself in one of the rooms. I wasn’t stupid to take them on. I was alone. Outnumbered. Not a hundred percent.

I was just crossing the living room when I swiped to answer, not planning on talking, but to have Nico at least know I was in trouble.

Something hit my back and I was falling. I landed on pillows.

The phone flew out of my hand.

I flipped myself on my back just in time to see the pipe heading straight for my head.