Chapter 186: I Didn’t Order That Pizza

“Something makes sense now actually,” Vee continued. “The first time we met, I brought the pizza to your office, no one would touch the pizza. The receptionist said if something was wrong with it, then I get to die alone. That’s how I ended up in your office…”

Luca exhaled slowly, memories flashing vividly in his mind—the brash woman entering his office with that fiery courage and naivety, unaware of the undercurrents swirling around him, of the shadows in which he thrived. She had been fearless then, fearless still.

“First of all, I didn’t order that pizza, Marco did,” Luca replied. “Which is why for a while, you called me Marco. And second, you interrupted a very…” He paused, looking for the right words when she abruptly threw a pillow at his face.

“Jackass!” she shouted.

“Hey, you did!” he laughed, catching the next pillow mid-flight, seizing the opportunity to press closer, to invade the space she always allowed him.

The laughter eventually died down, leaving a fragile silence. Luca’s gaze softened as he looked at her, tracing the lines of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the faint flush of heat still lingering. She made him feel lighter and heavier at the same time—lighter because she brought laughter into the darkness of his life, heavier because she reminded him of all the ways he could lose her, all the stakes that came with loving her.

“You make me so happy, Bambola,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t think it would be possible in my entire damned life.” Happiness was foreign, dangerous. It was a luxury he’d never thought he could claim, especially with all the shadows in which he lived, all the threats he carried.

Yet here she was, his walls completely broken down, with nothing more than her smiles, her words, her looks.

Vee’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile, her eyes glimmering with the knowledge of his confession. “You make me happy too,” she said softly. She wanted him to know she felt it too.

“How about this? Come to Italy with me,” he said.

“What?” Vee said, wide-eyed. Her heartbeat skipped, her chest rising and falling as her mind raced. The notion was thrilling, terrifying, overwhelming. “I… Italy?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Luca said simply. “Come with me. It’s just for a couple of days. I don’t want to be without you,” Luca added.

“What?” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “Are you then going to strap me to you every time you have to go out of town?”

“If I get to have my daily fix, then yes,” Luca replied without hesitation.

It shouldn’t have sounded romantic. It shouldn’t have made her heart stutter the way it did. But it did. Because she knew what he meant. And she felt the same way.

“Luca…” she exhaled softly. “I don’t know. I don’t want to disrespect your wife further.”

Bianca.

The shadow that refused to leave the room.

Luca’s jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face at the situation. At the complication. At the fact that even here, in this quiet space they had carved out for themselves, reality still found a way in. “You’ll be in a hotel,” he said.

Veronica shook her head slightly, a faint, humorless smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s not poke the dragon, please,” she said. “It’s supposed to be your wedding anniversary.”

Luca exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Fine,” he muttered. “I was hoping after such a tedious affair, I could just collapse in your arms.”

“I’ll be waiting for you right here, my love,” she said softly. “Always.”

It was a promise.

Luca’s gaze softened at that. His hand moved then, absentmindedly at first, tracing along her arm, down her waist, settling at her thigh. And that was when everything shifted. His fingers stilled slightly as they brushed over the place he had avoided looking at since it happened.

The scar.

It was healed on the surface now. The skin had scabbed.

A flicker of guilt crossed his face.

He hadn’t allowed himself to really look at it before. Because to look at it meant to acknowledge it. To accept it. And he wasn’t ready for that. Because in his mind, it wasn’t just a scar.

It was a failure.

His failure. His fingers hovered there, barely touching.

Veronica noticed. “Hey,” she called out suddenly. “My boobs are up here!”

It was so unexpected, so her, that Luca blinked, the tension breaking instantly.

He let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head slightly. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” she replied, a smirk tugging at her lips.

She knew what he had been thinking. What he had been feeling. And she refused to let him drown in it.

His hand moved again, sliding up from her thigh, away from the scar.

“You’re okay,” she said quietly.

He met her gaze. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I am.”

“Now concentrate on my boobs,” she teased.

God, he was in trouble.

Luca smiled. “How about I call Nonnina first and get back to you on that?” he said, winking.

“I’ll be waiting, all nice and wet for you.”

“—oh my God…” he laughed, shaking his head as he turned away from her, rifling through his pants for his phone. He didn’t want to leave her. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not for Italy. Not for Bianca. Not for anything. But Luca was a man bound by chains.

*****

When Marco’s phone buzzed and Valentina’s name flashed across the screen, he gave a small smile but when he read the message…

Everything else ceased to exist.

By the time he pushed back from his chair in the underground office, his body was already moving.

Marco’s strides were purposeful, each step heavier than the last as he moved through the dim corridors, up the staircase, into the main club. The bass from the music above pulsed faintly through the walls, growing louder with every step he took, syncing with the violent rhythm of his heartbeat.

(Brought to you by Janelle Fox)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep