He Chose His Bastard Over Our Baby - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading He Chose His Bastard Over Our Baby, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of He Chose His Bastard Over Our Baby.
I strode into De Luca Enterprises like I owned the damn building. The familiar scent of polished mahogany and overpriced cologne hit me, stirring memories I'd tried to forget. But today, I wasn't Valeria De Luca.
I was Victoria Moretti now.
My stilettos clicked against the marble as I approached reception. The girl behind the desk barely glanced up from her phone.
"Here for the secretary position," I said smoothly, sliding my perfectly forged resume across the counter.
She didn't even make eye contact. "Appointment?"
I leaned in just enough to make her uncomfortable. "No. But tell Mr. De Luca his new secretary is waiting. He'll want to see me."
That got her attention. Her fingers froze mid-scroll as her eyes darted between me and the executive elevator. "I—let me call his assistant."
While she fumbled with the phone, I took in the office—same gaudy chandeliers, same floor-to-ceiling windows, same power play decor. And somewhere up there in his penthouse office sat Lorenzo.
The man who had no idea he was walking into my web.
Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting across from him.
Lorenzo lounged behind his ridiculous mahogany throne, fingers steepled, looking bored as hell. "Name?"
"Victoria Moretti."
His gaze snapped up—just for a second—before that mask slid back into place.
"Experience?"
"I make powerful men's lives easier," I purred, crossing my legs slowly. "Among other things."
The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.
"Why here?"
Because I'm going to destroy you. Because I want to watch you crawl for a ghost.
I tilted my head, letting my hair slide over one shoulder. "I have a thing for ruthless men who always win."
His knuckles went white. He'd heard those words before—from my lips, in another life.
"You're hired."
Working for Lorenzo was almost too easy.
I anticipated his coffee order before he spoke, scheduled meetings he hadn't decided on yet, negotiated contracts with the same razor-sharp precision Valeria had been known for. I was everywhere—flawless, untouchable, impossible to ignore.
And it was driving him insane.
One late night after the office emptied, I placed a steak dinner on his desk.
"You should eat," I murmured.
He didn't look up from his papers. "I didn't ask for this."
"You never ask for what you really want."
His pen stilled. When he finally looked up, his gaze dragged over me like a physical touch.
"You remind me of someone." His voice was rough, almost pained.
I batted my lashes. "Should I be jealous?"
He shook his head like he could physically dislodge the thought. "Forget it."
I leaned in just close enough for him to catch my perfume. "Eat, boss." Then I walked out, leaving him with the scent of my shampoo and a cold meal.
The following week, he summoned me.
I locked the office door behind me. "You called?"
Lorenzo stood at the window, whiskey swirling in his glass. "Sit."
I obeyed, watching the tension in his shoulders. He looked... unsettled.
"Where are you from, Victoria?"
I smiled. "Does it matter?"
"I like knowing who I employ."
Bullshit. He was digging.
"I'm from everywhere and nowhere," I said, echoing words Valeria had once whispered to him in bed.
His glass cracked against the desk. "Christ, you even sound like her."
"Like who?"
He turned abruptly, his eyes wild for half a second before he schooled his features. "Nothing."
I stood and walked toward him, stopping just close enough to make his breath hitch. "Do I make you nervous, Mr. De Luca?"
His jaw worked. "No."
Liar.
I laughed softly, trailing a finger along his desk. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes darkened to black. "We'll see about that."
While I was unraveling Lorenzo, Isabella was coming apart at the seams.
She'd noticed how his eyes followed me, how he canceled their dinners, how he'd grown distant.
One night she stormed into his office and slammed a pregnancy test on his desk.
"We need to talk. Now."
Lorenzo didn't look up. "Not now."
"I'm pregnant."
Silence.
Then Lorenzo leaned back, his face unreadable. "Prove it's mine."
Isabella's gasp was almost theatrical. "After everything—you'd accuse me of this?"
He said nothing.
Her voice broke. "It's that secretary, isn't it? You look at her like—like you're seeing a ghost."
Lorenzo's expression didn't change.
She moved closer, tears sparkling on command. "Do you still love her?"
"Valeria's dead." The words sounded hollow even to me.
Isabella cupped his face. "Then prove it to me, amore."
And just like that, the noose tightened.
I watched from the shadows that night as Isabella clung to Lorenzo at some overpriced charity gala.
Pathetic.
She thought a fake baby would keep him, but the joke was on her—
He was already mine.
Ronan's voice crackled in my earpiece. "Phase one complete. What's the play, boss?"
I sipped champagne, watching Lorenzo scan the crowd like a man possessed. "We make him need me like oxygen."
Ronan chuckled. "You really want him that far gone?"
I let my gaze linger on Lorenzo as his eyes finally found mine across the room. The way his breath caught—like he'd been sucker punched.
"I don't want him obsessed," I murmured, lifting my glass in a silent toast. "I want him destroyed."
I was Victoria Moretti now.
My stilettos clicked against the marble as I approached reception. The girl behind the desk barely glanced up from her phone.
"Here for the secretary position," I said smoothly, sliding my perfectly forged resume across the counter.
She didn't even make eye contact. "Appointment?"
I leaned in just enough to make her uncomfortable. "No. But tell Mr. De Luca his new secretary is waiting. He'll want to see me."
That got her attention. Her fingers froze mid-scroll as her eyes darted between me and the executive elevator. "I—let me call his assistant."
While she fumbled with the phone, I took in the office—same gaudy chandeliers, same floor-to-ceiling windows, same power play decor. And somewhere up there in his penthouse office sat Lorenzo.
The man who had no idea he was walking into my web.
Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting across from him.
Lorenzo lounged behind his ridiculous mahogany throne, fingers steepled, looking bored as hell. "Name?"
"Victoria Moretti."
His gaze snapped up—just for a second—before that mask slid back into place.
"Experience?"
"I make powerful men's lives easier," I purred, crossing my legs slowly. "Among other things."
The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.
"Why here?"
Because I'm going to destroy you. Because I want to watch you crawl for a ghost.
I tilted my head, letting my hair slide over one shoulder. "I have a thing for ruthless men who always win."
His knuckles went white. He'd heard those words before—from my lips, in another life.
"You're hired."
Working for Lorenzo was almost too easy.
I anticipated his coffee order before he spoke, scheduled meetings he hadn't decided on yet, negotiated contracts with the same razor-sharp precision Valeria had been known for. I was everywhere—flawless, untouchable, impossible to ignore.
And it was driving him insane.
One late night after the office emptied, I placed a steak dinner on his desk.
"You should eat," I murmured.
He didn't look up from his papers. "I didn't ask for this."
"You never ask for what you really want."
His pen stilled. When he finally looked up, his gaze dragged over me like a physical touch.
"You remind me of someone." His voice was rough, almost pained.
I batted my lashes. "Should I be jealous?"
He shook his head like he could physically dislodge the thought. "Forget it."
I leaned in just close enough for him to catch my perfume. "Eat, boss." Then I walked out, leaving him with the scent of my shampoo and a cold meal.
The following week, he summoned me.
I locked the office door behind me. "You called?"
Lorenzo stood at the window, whiskey swirling in his glass. "Sit."
I obeyed, watching the tension in his shoulders. He looked... unsettled.
"Where are you from, Victoria?"
I smiled. "Does it matter?"
"I like knowing who I employ."
Bullshit. He was digging.
"I'm from everywhere and nowhere," I said, echoing words Valeria had once whispered to him in bed.
His glass cracked against the desk. "Christ, you even sound like her."
"Like who?"
He turned abruptly, his eyes wild for half a second before he schooled his features. "Nothing."
I stood and walked toward him, stopping just close enough to make his breath hitch. "Do I make you nervous, Mr. De Luca?"
His jaw worked. "No."
Liar.
I laughed softly, trailing a finger along his desk. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes darkened to black. "We'll see about that."
While I was unraveling Lorenzo, Isabella was coming apart at the seams.
She'd noticed how his eyes followed me, how he canceled their dinners, how he'd grown distant.
One night she stormed into his office and slammed a pregnancy test on his desk.
"We need to talk. Now."
Lorenzo didn't look up. "Not now."
"I'm pregnant."
Silence.
Then Lorenzo leaned back, his face unreadable. "Prove it's mine."
Isabella's gasp was almost theatrical. "After everything—you'd accuse me of this?"
He said nothing.
Her voice broke. "It's that secretary, isn't it? You look at her like—like you're seeing a ghost."
Lorenzo's expression didn't change.
She moved closer, tears sparkling on command. "Do you still love her?"
"Valeria's dead." The words sounded hollow even to me.
Isabella cupped his face. "Then prove it to me, amore."
And just like that, the noose tightened.
I watched from the shadows that night as Isabella clung to Lorenzo at some overpriced charity gala.
Pathetic.
She thought a fake baby would keep him, but the joke was on her—
He was already mine.
Ronan's voice crackled in my earpiece. "Phase one complete. What's the play, boss?"
I sipped champagne, watching Lorenzo scan the crowd like a man possessed. "We make him need me like oxygen."
Ronan chuckled. "You really want him that far gone?"
I let my gaze linger on Lorenzo as his eyes finally found mine across the room. The way his breath caught—like he'd been sucker punched.
"I don't want him obsessed," I murmured, lifting my glass in a silent toast. "I want him destroyed."
End of He Chose His Bastard Over Our Baby Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to He Chose His Bastard Over Our Baby book page.