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The words slip out sharper than intended, a subtle jab at Luca’s absence. I can’t help that I feel a pang of resentment still. Just because I now understand why he was too busy to return doesn’t mean that I’m not frustrated to have been left alone. He must have found time to sleep in the past few days, so why not in his own bed?
Luca pauses near the dining table, and I expect him to say something, to apologize for not being there after the attack, or offer some sort of further explanation.
My expectations aren’t met, though. Silence stretches between us, and it feels as if he’d prefer to dismiss the ordeal I went through. That’s how I interpret it, at least.
I rise from the couch, crossing my arms and piercing him with a glare. “You’ve got to be kidding me right now,” I say as calmly as I can muster since I’m at least grateful for what he did do. Yet, I can’t disregard my own emotions. Not when it feels as if everything has changed for me, and he seems content to remain…just as he’s been.
“What?” he finally asks.
With a heavy sigh, I reply, “You’re not even going to apologize?”
His sharp eyes slowly, yet with almost calculated effort, meet my hardened stare. “You want me to say sorry for spending three days hunting the piece of shit that hurt you? Would you have rather I been here, consoling you, while doing nothing to make sure he paid for what he did?”
I know he’s right. I wouldn’t have wanted him to stay by my side, but being ignored, left in the dark, wasn’t okay either. I also can’t deny that there’s a part of me, a part that craves something more from Luca—something I don’t even fully understand myself.
Given I’m not even sure what I want, I move back to the couch, landing on the cushions with a huff. “Just forget I said anything.”
The echo of his heavy steps fill the room, but I don’t turn his way, which seems to further piss him off, based on the grumbling mumbles I hear coming from him.
Luca stands in front of me, refusing to lower himself to my level as he speaks. “I’m not some prince charming who’s going to dote on you, Little Raven,” he says, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and determination. “I showed you affection in the shower because you needed it. But something tells me that you’re going to survive just fine without an apology for something I’m not sorry I did. If you were that lonely, you could have asked Justine to stay with you. Yet, you didn’t. There isn’t a single part of me that regrets what I did or not being in this room with you. If that’s not good enough for you, then that’s your problem, not mine.”
Mother fuck fuck.
Is he being a dick? Absolutely. Am I possibly expecting more than I should, considering I’m understanding more and more about this man? Probably. But that doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t valid and that I shouldn’t have the chance to express them. If I’m going to allow myself to care for Luca, then I can’t let him control me or my emotions. I still need to be me.
“You could have told me what you were doing,” I say with a conviction that forms from deep within me. “You didn’t have to ignore me for days, making me feel as if I might be to blame for allowing myself to be attacked. Hell, you could have passed a message from Jaxon to Justine to me. Anything would have been better than being left to my own tortuous thoughts.”
As I meet his steely gaze, I notice a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. His lips downturn, and the tension in his jawline betrays the strain of his clenched teeth.
“I’m not sorry for what I did,” he repeats, his voice softer this time, almost as if he’s relenting.
“And that’s fine, Luca. You don’t even have to apologize for leaving me in the dark, just don’t fucking do it again.” As the words escape my lips, I realize they also carry an admission—that there might be a next time, that I have no immediate plans to run away from this place.
The thought twists and turns in my stomach, leaving me unsure whether it’s a good thing or bad. I swore this life wasn’t for me, that I could never find comfort in a mafia family that thrives on violence and lawlessness, one that believes it can play God with the lives of others.
Yet...I know my attraction to the man standing before me is real. Even more, I’m certain he feels something for me in return, even if there may not be many moments that he shows it like he did in the shower.
“I’m going to go find you another wrap for your wrist,” he says, confirming what I already assumed—this man doesn’t apologize easily, if at all.
Uncertainty begins to cloud my mind. I have no idea if I can truly stay in this place, or if Luca even wants me to. But as I weigh my options, I come to a resolute decision—I don’t care. Despite everything, I know I’m safe within the confines of this compound. I know Luca will do whatever it takes to ensure my safety, and as long as that remains true, I have no reason to rush into any hasty decisions.
Well, except for one that I’ve already made: Luca Monroe is worth getting to know. At least, as much as he’ll allow me to. There will come a time when I’ll have to evaluate if what he’s capable of giving is enough to accept all the complexities and dangers that come with caring about the leader of a mafia family.
But that’s a problem for future me to tackle, and right now, I’m not looking out for her. Present me demands the most attention, and I’m okay with that.
For now. Just like everything else lately, I can only deal with one moment at a time.
18
LUCA
Throughout my life, I’ve guarded myself against weaknesses. It’s a fundamental principle ingrained into me by my father, a necessary survival tactic—as he called it—in this twisted world I choose to remain in.
Until now, I’ve never once regretted that choice. Maintaining an emotional distance has allowed me to excel at my job, surpassing all expectations. But now, everything has changed. Now, I have this woman in my apartment—one who stumbled into my life, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurk within it. And the more I observe her, the more I question the possibility that she possesses a strength I didn’t anticipate before.
The vulnerability I showed Olivia in the shower wasn’t a mere impulsive act. Every word I spoke, every touch I bestowed upon her, held a genuine intention. Yet, I’m cautious not to raise her expectations to unrealistic heights.
When I informed her that I would never apologize, I expected her to react with anger or tears, like a petulant child. But she surprised me once again, accepting my unapologetic nature without protest. Her ability to acknowledge my flaws and still be drawn to me is somewhat remarkable. However…
