#####CHAPTER 2

I ran my hand through my hair, gripping it, clearly angry at who dared to mess with me, DeLuca King. I clenched my fist, my anger simmering as I gazed out the window of my sleek, oak wood-accented office. The King Empire's headquarters, nestled in the heart of New York, was usually a symbol of my success, but today it felt like a trap.

Our company had been hemorrhaging secrets, our innovative ideas and strategies mysteriously ending up in the hands of our rival, the notorious Ryder Corporation.

I called my trusted ally and friend, Will, my tone laced with urgency. "I need you in my office, now." His concerned voice replied, "Is everything alright, Luca?" I growled, "Just get here, I'll explain everything."

As soon as Will entered my office, I blurted out, "I think we have a rat... no, scratch that, we have a rat, and I need to find out who it is that's giving our information out to our rival company." Will's expression turned grave, and he nodded. "I'll be on it, I'll send you a file by evening, and we'll get to the bottom of this betrayal," he said, his voice firm with determination.

I nodded, my mind racing with suspects and motives. My father's call interrupted my thoughts, his gruff voice demanding my presence at the family estate. "Luca, come home for dinner. There's someone you need to meet.” He said groggily "But Father..." I began, but he cut me off. "No argument, Luca." And with that, he hung up.

I summoned my driver to bring my car to the front of the building, bypassing the underground garage. As I prepared to leave my office, I gathered my files and organized my desk, double-checking for any overlooked documents. With a final glance around the room, I headed for the elevator.

However, my departure was interrupted by Rachel, my secretary, with whom I had a brief sexual affair. Though it ended, she continued to flirt with me, and I made it clear that our relationship would remain professional going forward.

As I approached the elevator, Rachel accosted me, her hands roaming across my chest. "Hello, DeLuca," she cooed, her voice husky. I stiffened, my irritation evident. "It's Mr. King to you, Rachel. Show some respect." Undeterred, she continued her advances, her breasts thrust forward.

My anger flared, and I grasped her throat, pinning her against the wall. "If you value your job, keep your distance, and refrain from touching me again, understand?" I growled, my eyes blazing with intensity. With that, I released her and stormed into the elevator, leaving her stunned and cowed.

As I stepped out of the elevator, I was greeted by my driver, John, who bowed respectfully. "Mr. King," he said, his voice low and deferential. I nodded in response, "Thank you, John." I slid into the luxurious leather seat of my Audi R8, feeling the softness envelop me. With a roar, the engine sprang to life, and I sped away, leaving the city behind.

Before long, I arrived at my family's estate, a grandiose mansion that rivaled a castle. The valet, awaiting my arrival, bowed and greeted me with a smile. I handed over the keys, and he whisked the car away. As I entered the mansion, the maid curtsied, and I nodded in acknowledgment. My eyes scanned the opulent interior, adorned with lavish furnishings and artwork.

My mother, the epitome of grace and beauty, stood in the kitchen, her brown silk hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her warm, tan skin radiated a gentle glow, and her kind eyes sparkled with love. "Oh, Luca," she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why don't you come home anymore?" She embraced me, her petite frame nestling into mine. I attempted to deflect her question, "Madre, how are you?" But she persisted, her gaze piercing mine.

I redirected my attention to the savory aroma wafting from the kitchen. "Hmm, I smell something delicious...is that lasagna I smell?" My mother beamed, her eyes shining with pride. "I knew you were coming, so I made your favorite dish." I kissed her forehead, and she whispered, "Your padre is in his office, dear. He's been waiting for you. You should go." A hint of worry creased her brow, but I nodded reassuringly and made my way up to the office, my heart pounding in anticipation.

As I approached the office, the murmur of voices grew louder, with one high-pitched tone standing out above the rest. I knocked on the door, and my father's hoarse voice beckoned me to enter. I hesitated, sensing a trap. Upon stepping inside, all eyes fixed on me, and my father's voice boomed, "Luca, my son, come sit." I knew he was feigning warmth for the benefit of our guests.

My gaze swept the room, landing on a man around my father's age and a young woman, likely in her early twenties. Her face was heavily made up, and her artificial curves seemed to defy gravity. I approached Gabriel, assuming he was her father, and shook his hand after a brief pause. He introduced himself and his daughter as Abigail, nudging her to stand. She offered her hand, but I merely nodded, my hands remaining in my pockets. Her eyes flashed with embarrassment as she sat back down.

"Padre, you called for me?" I asked, my eyes locked on my father. His smile broadened as he announced, "I want you to meet Abigail, your fiancée." My mind reeled in shock, my eyes darting between my father and Abigail, who seemed to be studying me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, my vision blurring and my mind reeling. "Father, you can't be serious! You can't just choose a wife for me," I protested, trying to process the shocking news.

My father's expression remained unyielding. "I can and I have. If you want to remain CEO of King's Empire, you'll marry Abigail." His voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

I felt desperation creeping in. "But Father, I don't even know her! How can I marry someone I've just met?" I argued, my voice laced with panic.

My father raised an eyebrow. "She comes from a good family, and I'm sure you'll make a fine couple." His tone was dismissive as if the matter was already settled.

In a last-ditch effort, I blurted out, "I have a girlfriend, Father." The room fell silent, the tension palpable.

My father's expression darkened. "A girlfriend?" he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Why haven't I heard about this...girlfriend of yours?"

I stood my ground, despite my inner turmoil. "I was going to tell you and Madre, but...this happened." I gestured to Abigail, who watched the exchange with interest.

My father sighed, his eyes flicking to Gabriel before returning to me. "Fine. I want to meet this girlfriend of yours by the end of the week." His tone was firm, brooking no argument. As he turned to leave, he whispered, "By the end of the week, Luca. Don't disappoint me.”

As soon as my father exited the office, I stormed out, my footsteps echoing down the stairs to the ground floor. My mother, sensing my turmoil, approached me with concern etched on her face. "Luca, dear, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

I shook my head, my anger and frustration boiling over. "Mamma, mi dispiace," I muttered, my words tumbling out in a rush. I couldn't bear to explain, couldn't bear to stay in that house a moment longer.

Without another word, I turned and strode away, leaving my mother's worried gaze behind. I collected the keys from John, the valet, and slid into the driver's seat of my car. As I sped away from the estate, I dialed Will's number, my mind racing with thoughts of rebellion and escape.

"Hey, I need to see you," I said, my voice low and urgent. "Where should we meet?"

Will's response was calm and reassuring. "I'll send you a location. Just get here, Luca."

I drove to the address he sent, my heart pounding in my chest. What would I do next? How would I escape the trap my father had set for me? I had no answers, but I knew I had to keep moving forward, no matter the cost.