Chapter 62: Get On With It

She knelt by the bed, brushing a hand softly over Tina’s hair. Luca might be a devil, a tyrant, a storm of chaos but tonight, he had done something undeniably human, something that left her breathless in its unexpected tenderness.

Vee leaned closer, pressing her forehead to her sister’s shoulder, closing her eyes, and just breathed.

Even held captive, Luca had cared for Valentina when he didn’t have to. He had fed her sister, housed her, made sure she wasn’t hurt.

What if their father had gotten entangled with someone else? Someone colder. Someone without Luca’s particular brand of rules, warped as they were. Someone who didn’t see people as people at all. What would have become of Valentina then? Of both of them? Vee didn’t like the answers her mind supplied.

She shoved them aside, but they clawed back anyway.

Yes, Valentina’s fate was still grim. That hadn’t changed. But Luca had looked her in the eye and said it. If I could let her go, I would. Which meant he was trying. Or at least struggling with the idea.

Right?

Maybe if she acknowledged this. Maybe if she didn’t spit in his face every time he showed the smallest crack in that monstrous armor. Maybe if she was grateful for this one mercy, this stolen night, this gift he hadn’t even wrapped in cruelty. Maybe, just maybe, he would try harder. Push further. Bend rules he himself had made.

She didn’t care about her own freedom. She had already made peace with the idea that she might never walk away untouched. But Tina? Tina still had a life. If Valentina could get away, if she could be free, Vee would stay. She would bleed for it. She would kneel for it. She would thank the devil himself if that was the price.

Vee leaned down and pressed a soft kiss into Valentina’s hair. Her sister stirred but didn’t wake, curling tighter into the sheets. Vee straightened slowly, swallowing the ache in her throat, and slipped out of the apartment.

The main house felt different at night. Bigger.

She found one of the maids just outside the corridor, the woman already dressed down, cardigan pulled close as she prepared to retire for the night.

“Miss Scalese,” the maid said gently, surprise flickering across her face. “Can I help you with something?”

“Is Nonnina still awake?” she asked.

“No. She retired early tonight.”

She inhaled once, steadying herself. “How about Luca?”

“Up in his bedroom,” the maid answered, eyes flicking briefly toward the staircase.

“Okay. Thanks.” Vee gave a tight nod and headed upstairs.

She entered quietly.

Luca was sprawled across the bed, shirtless, one arm flung above his head, dark hair mussed. The lights were still on. An empty bottle of wine sat on the nightstand, tipped on its side. He looked asleep, drugged sleep that came from exhaustion rather than peace.

She stood there.

This man terrified her. Controlled her life. Held her sister’s fate in his hands. And yet, standing there in his bedroom, she saw loneliness.

She exhaled quietly and stepped closer. Just this. Just a small kindness. She reached for the sheet, lifting it carefully, intending to pull it up over his bare torso.

Click.

“Its me! Its me, Vee!” she blurted, reflex taking over as she dropped the sheet and threw her hands up, heart slamming into her ribs hard enough to bruise. “It’s me!”

Luca was upright in an instant, eyes open, focused, lethal. The gun was already trained on her, steady. Even drunk, even half-asleep, he was still Luciano Genovese. Predator before man.

“When are you going to learn not to sneak up on me?” he asked coolly.

Her breath came fast. “How was I supposed to know you sleep with a gun?” she snapped back, more rattled than she wanted to admit.

He didn’t lower it yet. His gaze swept over her, assessing, cataloguing. “What were you doing?” Suspicion edged his voice, automatic, ingrained.

“I came in,” she said, swallowing, forcing herself to stay still. “I saw you were asleep. I decided to cover you up.”

Luca sighed. He flicked the safety on the gun and slid it back under the pillow.

Vee still didn’t move. Her back was to him, arms still up, shoulders tight as wire.

“Well?” Luca said behind her. “Get on with it.”

“With what?” Vee asked, already irritated down to the bone.

“The sheets.”

The words landed flat, like he’d asked her to pass the salt instead of explaining why he’d nearly put a bullet in her chest. She turned slowly, disbelief hardening her spine. “What? This is the second time you’ve pulled a gun on me and life is just supposed to move on smoothly? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have your life threatened?”

Luca shifted against the pillows, clearly unimpressed, one arm bent behind his head, the other resting near where the gun had disappeared. “Yes,” he said lazily. “It’s one of the many occupational hazards of my job.”

“That’s your job,” she snapped. “I don’t do your job! I sell pizza! Getting a gun pulled on me is frightening. Normal people don’t live like this, Luca.”

“Stop shouting,” he muttered, squinting. “I have a headache.”

She scoffed and glanced pointedly at the nightstand. The empty wine bottle lay there. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Not a lot.”

Vee made a sound deep in her throat, a mocking hum that translated to liar. “You smell like a vineyard,” she said, already turning back toward the bed. She lifted the sheet again, tugging it higher, her movements clipped.

Even dulled by alcohol, even wrapped in that fog where the edges of the world blurred, he felt the graze of her fingers on his bare skin. A whisper of contact. Nothing. Everything. His body reacted, muscles tightening instinctively, awareness snapping sharp. He watched her from beneath heavy lashes, tracking the way she set the sheet around him, tucking it in.

She cared.

And yet, she could not love him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep