Not All Bad Boys Are The Same.

Prologue.

Luca's POV

"Luca!" Harry yelled and I tossed in my bed. "LUCA!" He yelled louder causing me to wake up. I rolled out of bed and slumped out of my room to see what he wanted.

Still groggy with sleep I wiped a hand across my face to see my stepfather standing downstairs while facing the direction of my room with a newspaper clutched in his hand.

"What?" I asked in annoyance. Harry had his tendencies to throw a fit now and then. His tantrums never seemed to amuse me in the slightest.

'Luca you are irresponsible!'

'Luca why are you breathing the same air as me!'

'Luca why can't you be like your sister Stephanie!' This is how it went every single day.

Stephanie is my older sister. She is Harry's daughter. She was nothing like Harry. Unlike Harry, she had an outstanding, bubbly personality. She radiated love and warmth and always had a welcoming smile on her face.

Stephanie's mother passed away when she was five years old. My father passed away when I was a month old. My mother met, and married Harry when I was two and I've been putting up with him ever since.

"Get down here now young man!" Harry barked, and I sighed. I took the steps down two at a time. I was in a hurry to get the conversation over with."What is this Luca?" Harry asked, angrily while holding up the newspaper.

Harry was a thin, clean shaved man. His hair was always combed back and he looked like he was straight out of the eighteen hundreds with his brown pants and suspenders.

I, on the other hand, had long unruly hair I'd often liked to keep in a bun and a neatly trimmed beard, also I dressed like I was from this century, but Harry hated it. He often said I looked like a vagabond.

"Oh, can't you see father? It's clearly a newspaper," I said, in disinterest. The old man is losing it.

"Don't act smart Luca." He threw the newspaper at me and I easily caught it. I looked at the front page and I knew that this time I was in deep shit. The headline read: Luca Hendricks, son of Billionaire Harry Hendricks, goes on a booze cruise with friends.

"I'm warning you, Luca. You stop this flamboyant behavior and you stop your gallivanting. You are dragging my name through the mud!" He yelled.

"Honey, honey calm down," My mother said, walking into the sitting room area with a tray. My mother had blonde hair she often kept short and behind her ears. She loved wearing long floral dresses that swept the floor when she walked. Sometimes I felt that I lived in a very old movie because of the way everyone around me dressed.

"No Charlotte. The boy has completely lost it! He has gone bonkers."

"He is just a child Harry," my mother defended my shitty actions as usual.

"A child. A child," he emphasized. "What child goes drinking on a yacht?"

"I'm sure he didn't mean..."

"No Char. You too lenient with him, but I'd just about had it. You hear me," he said and whirled on me."Pack your bags, Luca. You are leaving for New York tonight." As if ice water had been injected into my veins, my blood ran extremely cold.

"What? You can't do that. My life is in London."

"Life," he repeated in outrage "What life? You call drinking till you can't remember your bloody name a life!"

"Mum, please," I turned to her to plead.

She wiped away a tear."I'm sorry dear but it's out of my hands. You have exhausted your father and I's patience."