Chapter 85: I Am Obsessed With You

He took her hand and pressed it flat against his chest. “It doesn’t mean my heart stopped functioning,” he said. “I am obsessed with you. And I would do anything to keep you. Anything for you to revolve around me.”

Vee yanked her hand back. “You’re married, Luca.”

“It’s only a formality,” he said immediately. “I left Vienna two hours after the wedding. I haven’t seen her in almost a year.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you are married. And I am the one on the outside. I will be the woman people whisper about. The one they point at and call a home wrecker.”

“And I will pluck out the tongue of anyone who dares even think it,” Luca shot back instantly.

There was no hesitation in him. No pause where morality or optics might have crept in. He stepped closer, lowering his head so his gaze locked onto hers with brutal focus. “Come on,” he added, softer now but no less dangerous. “Let’s just be tonight, Bambola. Can we do that?”

Veronica didn’t answer him. Words felt too fragile, too easy to break. Instead, she moved forward, slipped out of her shoes, and stepped onto the cushioned carpet Nonnina had laid out.

She turned back to him, eyes scanning his posture, the way he favored one side without admitting it. “Do you need help sitting?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Luca said, already bending. He eased himself down with care, jaw tightening for half a second as he guarded the muscles around his wound. Vee sat beside him a moment later, close enough that their shoulders brushed.

He poured the wine with steady hands, handed her a glass, their fingers grazing briefly.

“Something surprising happened today,” Vee said, staring into her wine instead of at him.

“Oh?” Luca replied, lifting his glass and taking a measured sip.

“My dad came into the shop,” she continued. “He said he was leaving town. Tonight. I’m guessing you had something to do with that.”

“Good riddance,” he said.

“Luca.” She turned fully toward him now, hurt flaring hot. “He’s my father.”

“He should have acted like one,” Luca shot back.

“You can’t just…” She broke off, frustration tangling her words. “You can’t just decide things like that. You can’t bulldoze through people’s lives because you think you know what’s best.”

“I can and I will,” Luca snapped, the softness gone completely now. “Vito has always been a threat to you. Always. He is lucky I let him leave alive.”

“You need to come to terms with this,” he continued. “Whoever breathes wrong around you, I am going to fuck up.”

“Luca! I am a grown woman! I can handle myself!” Vee shouted.

Luca turned those fiery eyes on her, the same eyes men feared. “Trust me when I say this,” he said, “anyone, anyone who hurts you or is involved with hurting you will have a standoff with the devil.” His jaw flexed, a muscle jumping. “Hate it or like it, I don’t care. I can’t help it.”

He meant it.

“And what if it’s you hurting me?”

Luca froze in pain.

“I…” His breath hitched, just slightly. Enough that she noticed. Enough that it almost undid her. The idea clearly gutted him. “How… why would you even think that? I would never. I’d give my life to keep you safe.”

“Like you did at my house?” she shot back. “Getting stabbed?”

She set her glass down. Then she climbed over him, knees pressing into the rug, her dress riding up her thighs. Luca sucked in a sharp breath as she straddled him.

Her fingers went to his shirt, yanking it open. Fabric fell away to reveal hard muscle, olive skin, and the faint shadow of bruising that still lingered beneath the surface. Her hand went straight to the wound, fingers pressing lightly where the knife had nearly ended him. The skin there was healing fast, but the memory of blood was still fresh.

“How many times,” she demanded, “will you throw yourself in front of a knife?”

“As many as it takes,” he said quietly. “As long as you’re standing after.”

His hands closed over her fingers, pressing them deeper into the tender heat of his wound. Luca’s jaw locked so hard a vein jumped along his temple, his breath slowing. Pain flickered across his face, then vanished behind that iron discipline he wore.

Vee gasped, panic flaring instantly. “What are you doing?” Her instinct screamed at her to pull away, to stop this madness. She tried to snatch her hand back, but Luca tightened his grip, guiding her fingers, pressing deeper.

“Showing you,” he said quietly, “that as long as it’s you, I swallow the pain.”

Her chest constricted. “And when you die,” she demanded, fear cracking through her anger, “who will keep me safe then?”

He met her gaze without blinking. “Then I better make sure I don’t die.”

She pulled free at last, scrambling away from him. Her hands trembled as she turned to the table, lifting lids, focusing on steam and plates and food.

“Just fuck me and set me free, Luca,” she said bluntly. “This is not healthy.”

She shimmied farther away, kneeling by the table, forcing herself to care about pasta and sauce and forks instead of the man who had just proven he would bleed quietly for her. She busied herself serving food.

“That’s not going to happen,” Luca replied evenly.

She didn’t look at him. “You’re like a dog with a bone,” she muttered, scooping pasta onto both plates with more force than necessary.

He huffed a soft laugh. “Like I said, obsessed.”

She finally glanced at him then, expecting smugness. Instead, he was watching her. His shirt still hung open.

“I never did say,” he continued, “or ever tell you just how beautiful you are, Vee. And I think you know it.”

Her hand stilled mid-motion. She scoffed.

“I’ve seen a lot of women. Power dresses. Perfect faces. Empty eyes. You walk into a room and it changes temperature. You don’t even notice.”

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