Chapter 84
“But you didn’t invest the money in the shop,” Luca said calmly. “Of course you didn’t. Well, like I said, get out of town. Tonight p>
“Luca Vito stepped forward again, palms raised, fingers shaking now, the plea written all over his hunched frame. “Please. I made mistakes, yes, but p>
“I am not arguing this with you.” Luca rose to his feet, pain flaring briefly through his side, his jaw tightening as he mastered it. “Veronica belongs to me now. Valentina deserves a better life than being on the run from your stupidity and your debts p>
“I will send you the funds you will need. Enough to disappear. Enough to start over somewhere far away from here. But hear me clearly, Vito.” He stepped closer. “You will disappear. You will not look back. You will not sniff around their lives. You will not get curious. You will get the fuck out p>
Vito opened his mouth. The look on Luca’s face shut him down instantly. It was the look of a man who had already decided how far mercy extended and where it ended.
“Of course,” Vito whispered. He nodded stiffly, pride finally crushed under the weight of inevitability. He turned and left the room, shoulders sagging, his shadow shrinking as the door closed behind him.
Nonnina, despite knowing the romance was doomed, was far too excited to care. She had set up dinner in the garden. The vegetable beds stood proudly behind the long, low table, rows of tomatoes heavy and red, basil perfuming the evening air, zucchini leaves broad and unapologetic.
Luca had once insisted it was supposed to be a flower garden. Roses. Lilies. Anything ornamental.
She had ignored him completely.
The table glowed. LED lights were woven delicately along its edges, casting halos over porcelain plates and crystal flutes. A pathway of red roses trailed around the edges of the area, petals lush, leading to a patterned rug spread across the floor. The rug was thick, indulgent underfoot.
At its center, Nonnina had placed a body pillow, practical even in romance, angled just so Luca could hurting his side.
The maids moved, arranging the meal. Pasta still steaming, the sauce rich and slow-cooked. Champagne placed in an ice bucket. Chocolates sat glossy and dark, strawberries rinsed and blushing, their green tops still clinging. It was too much and somehow not enough. An offering. An apology. A plea.
When Luca arrived at the door to Vee’s apartment, he looked every inch the gentleman he pretended not to be. Dark trousers, crisp blue shirt, open at the collar. His hair was combed back, jaw clean-shaven. He knocked once, then opened the door and stepped inside.
Veronica stood in an A-line mini red dress. The fabric hugged her waist before flaring slightly. Her legs were bare. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, her lips painted just enough to be dangerous.
“Hi,” she said.
Luca smiled because anything else would have betrayed him. He stepped closer, heart misbehaving in his chest, pounding too fast, too loud. What was it about this woman that stripped him bare without touching him? He had faced guns with steadier hands. He had ordered men to die without blinking.
And yet here he was, unraveling because she existed in red.
“So,” Vee said, forcing her gaze away from his face, reaching for her phone on the sofa. “Where are we going p>
There it was. The wall. Still standing. Carefully mortared with disappointment and self-preservation.
“Nowhere,” he said.
She paused, fingers stilling around her phone, eyes flicking back to him, suspicious, guarded.
“But,” Luca continued, “I owe you a dinner date. So I had something prepared. And well His mouth curved. “Nonnina might have gone a little insane p>
“She didn’t have to.” Vee said. She kept her eyes forward.
Luca reached for her, fingers warm, sliding gently through her hair. “Can you pretend to forgive me tonight, Bambola p>
Vee swallowed. “I’m not mad at you p>
“Tell that to your face p>
“I’m not mad, I promise.” Her eyes betrayed her.
“So why have you been avoiding me for the past few days p>
“Just busy at the shop. I have to keep things going.” The excuse was thin, and they both knew it. The shop was her refuge.
Luca leaned in to kiss her. His mouth brushed hers. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t meet him either. She stayed still. The frost between them did not crack. “Come on p>
He laced his fingers through hers and tugged gently, leading her out of the apartment and through the mansion’s courtyard. Vee walked beside him, heels clicking softly.
They stopped at the space Nonnina had set up for them. Flowers crowded the air with sweetness. Soft fabric draped over furniture. It was romance done right.
Vee stood there, stunned despite herself. No one had done anything like this for her. No one had ever looked at her and thought, she deserves effort. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, and the sadness crept into her voice before she could stop it.
She turned to him, eyes shining for all the wrong reasons. “What… what is this, Luca? What’s the point? You want to have sex with me, you don’t have to try so hard. I will have sex with you. I told you that already. Don’t… you’re making this hard p>
Sex was easy. Romance was dangerous.
“I’m guessing by all that rant, you are thoroughly impressed.” Luca smiled.
It was an infuriating smile. Soft at the edges, crooked in a way that suggested he found her emotional unraveling both endearing and inevitable. “I didn’t do this,” he added lightly, gesturing around the space. “You have Nonnina to thank. And I’m sure she would faint on the spot if you offered her sex as payment p>
“I’m not joking p>
“Neither am I.” The humor slipped from his face so quickly it felt like a door slamming shut. Luca stepped closer. “Don’t you get it yet, Vee? It’s you. It should be you p>
“You once said you couldn’t love me,” he continued. “That no one could love me. I heard you p>