Chapter 324: Morning Breakfast! (Mostly R-18)

The next morning, Luca headed to Vivienne’s residence.

Brobbey was still in Captain Rico’s custody. He’d been refusing to answer questions, clinging stubbornly to the same defiant attitude.

Luca wasn’t in a hurry to hear him talk. If Brobbey had started cooperating already, he might have been disappointed. The man deserved a little more time to sweat.

As Luca approached the apartment, a rich, inviting aroma drifted through the doorway. Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and something sweet. The smell was unlike anything he’d woken up to before, and it made him pause for a moment.

He knocked.

"Come in!" Amelia called from inside.

Luca turned the handle and stepped into the living room. It was empty, though the delicious smell was stronger now, coming from the kitchen.

A moment later, Vivienne appeared.

She wore an apron over her nearly bare body, with only her underwear beneath it. Luca stopped short, caught off guard by the sight.

’Well, this is unexpected.’

"Good morning, husband." Vivienne smiled as she approached, then began unbuttoning his shirt. "How are you feeling?"

"What’s all this?" Luca asked, his expression shifting from surprise to amusement. His hands settled at her waist.

"You’ve been working so hard these past few days." She leaned closer, brushing her cheek against his before whispering into his ear. "We thought we’d help you relax."

She guided him toward the sofa in the middle of the room.

’We?’

Before he could ask, Amelia stepped out of the kitchen, dressed in an apron just like Vivienne’s. She carried two plates: fluffy pancakes topped with butter, honey, and cinnamon on one, and crispy bacon with scrambled eggs on the other. A cup of coffee completed the spread.

Luca’s eyebrows rose.

Vivienne moved behind the sofa and began massaging his shoulders. The soft fabric of her apron brushed against him as she worked, while Amelia set the breakfast on the table in front of him.

Then she looked up at Luca, a faint, playful smile on her face.

Amelia climbed onto the sofa without ceremony and settled across his lap, the thin apron and underwear the only layers between them. She picked up the fork, speared a golden triangle of pancake, and held it to his lips.

"Open wide, husband," she said, the playful formality making Vivienne snort softly behind him.

He accepted the bite. Honey and cinnamon melted across his tongue while her free hand rested against his chest, fingers idly tracing the open edge of his shirt. Vivienne’s thumbs worked deeper into his shoulders, the soft fabric of her apron brushing his back with every slow press.

Vivienne leaned down to kiss the side of his neck. "Eat."

Amelia fed him another piece, then a strip of bacon. As he chewed she shifted slightly, and his hand found the side of her breast beneath the apron. He squeezed gently, thumb circling the peak of her nipple through the thin fabric. Her breath hitched; the fork wavered.

"Careful," she whispered, voice already thinner. "You’ll make me drop it."

He did it again, firmer this time, rolling the sensitive bud between finger and thumb. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her. Vivienne laughed under her breath and reached around to steal a piece of pancake for herself.

They switched places a minute later. Amelia rose just long enough for Vivienne to claim his lap, settling with the same careful ease. His hands found her at once, one sliding beneath the apron to cup her breast, the other drifting lower to the warm skin above her underwear. Vivienne fed him scrambled egg with deliberate calm even as his fingers slipped inside the waistband and found her already slick. She exhaled sharply through her nose, hips shifting in a small, controlled roll.

"Still concentrating?" Amelia asked from behind the sofa, now massaging his neck.

"Barely," Vivienne managed, offering another forkful. He took it, then leaned in to catch her mouth in a slow kiss that tasted of honey and salt.

Amelia’s hands moved lower, unfastening the last of his buttons and sliding the shirt from his shoulders. When Vivienne’s breathing grew uneven, they traded places again. Amelia returned to his lap facing him this time, knees bracketing his hips. His palm covered one breast, thumb stroking the peaked nipple until she arched with a quiet moan. His other hand slipped between her thighs, fingers tracing slow circles over the damp fabric of her underwear.

"Luca—" she started, then broke off as he pressed more firmly.

Vivienne knelt beside them on the sofa, apron discarded, and leaned in to claim his mouth while her hand trailed down his stomach. Amelia slid off his lap only long enough to free him completely, then settled between his knees. She took him into her mouth with unhurried care, soft and warm, while his fingers returned to Vivienne... sliding beneath the last barrier to stroke her gently, mindful of the early changes in both of them.

Vivienne’s forehead rested against his shoulder. Soft, broken sounds left her as his fingers worked, and Amelia’s mouth moved in the same unhurried rhythm. They traded again after a while so Vivienne could taste him while Amelia claimed his hand once more, hips rocking carefully against his touch. The room filled with the quiet sounds of breath, the occasional muffled laugh when an apron string tangled or a plate threatened to tip, and the low, involuntary moans neither woman tried to hide.

When the tension finally peaked... first for Vivienne, then Amelia, then Luca himself... it came in shared, careful waves. No urgency, no roughness, only the press of warm bodies and the lingering taste of breakfast on their lips.

Afterwards they stayed tangled on the sofa, aprons half-undone, plates forgotten. He stroked both their backs in slow, lazy paths.

"Next time," he said, voice rough, "I’m making the pancakes."

Amelia laughed against his collarbone. Vivienne only smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

...

A few hours later, Amelia was finally dressed and ready to head back to her apartment.

’Tracy must have been worried sick.’

Even after everything that had happened, her thoughts kept returning to her roommate.

She climbed into Luca’s car, and they set off. For a while, they drove in comfortable silence. Then Luca glanced at her.

"You and Vivienne seemed to get along pretty well."

Amelia answered with a playful giggle.

"Want to guess whose idea that little welcome was?"

"Naomi’s," Luca said without hesitation. "Sounds exactly like one of her cheeky schemes."

"Ding, ding, ding!" Amelia chimed, mimicking a game-show buzzer. "We had a group call last night. She suggested it, and Vivienne and I went along with it."

Luca nodded, his attention returning to the road. The conversation drifted as they continued through the city.

A few minutes later, they arrived at Amelia’s apartment. Luca had already arranged for security to keep an eye on the area, just in case anyone suspicious showed up. Still, he doubted Brobberry would get another chance to threaten her.

He pulled up outside and waited while Amelia got out.

"Take care," he told her.

"I will. And thank you."

Once she was safely inside, Luca drove away, heading back to the place where Brobbery was being held.

...

"Good afternoon, Boss." Rico greeted Luca as he led him down the corridor. "He’s in here."

Luca nodded and opened the door.

The sight inside was ugly. Brobbey’s face was swollen and bruised, his skin mottled with dark patches. Blood streaked his mouth and chin. His left arm hung almost uselessly at his side, and even sitting upright seemed to take effort.

He looked as though he’d been trampled by an elephant.

"He’s refused to talk," Rico explained.

"You bastard, Lu—"

Brobbey never finished. Luca’s fist struck him across the mouth, cutting off the insult. A few teeth clattered to the floor.

Luca glanced down at them, unimpressed.

"This won’t do. He’s still got teeth left, and his right arm seems to be working just fine."

Brobbey spat blood onto the floor. "You’ll never get anything out of me!"

He sounded certain. Luca almost admired the confidence.

"Relax, Bobbey. I’ll get through that stubborn little act of yours soon enough. But first..."

Luca began striking him again.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Then a few more for good measure.

He kept going until he was satisfied. By the time he stepped back, Brobbey was still conscious, though only just.

The man gave a weak, rasping laugh. "You done, you cunt?"

His battered face still carried the faintest trace of a smirk.

Luca sighed and signalled to Rico.

Rico took out his phone. A video call was already underway, and he turned the screen toward Brobbey.

"You’re not a particularly smart man," Luca said, wiping the blood from his hands with a towel. "But you did manage to keep her hidden for quite a while."

He glanced at the screen.

"We looked into you and found a girl named Lindsay Brown. Third-year college student."

Brobbey’s eyes widened. The smugness vanished from his face.

On the phone, Lindsay was visible in the custody of another security team, safe and accounted for.

Luca watched Brobbey’s expression change.

"So, are you ready to tell us—"

"Damian Hawthorne." Brobbey interrupted him, his voice suddenly strained. "Just... please don’t."

The name stirred something in Luca’s memory, but he couldn’t place it.

"Good luck finding him," Brobbey added, trying to recover some of his bravado. "He’s probably already in another country."

Luca gave a quiet sigh and turned to Rico.

"Dig into him. Find out who he is and where he might be."

"Understood."

Luca looked back at Brobbey. "As for you, we’ve gathered more than enough evidence to hand you over to the authorities. You’ll be facing charges for what you’ve done, and you’re not walking away from this."

He let the words settle.

"It’s over, Bobbey."