He shakes his head. “You and the kids will be fine. Anyone who has a problem, it will be with me.” His eyes are piercing as they study me. "Why are you so against finding the truth? Don't you want to know who's really responsible for your father's death?"
I pull my hand away realizing we’re about to go around on this same merry-go-round. "If my father were here, he'd tell you the same thing I am. Some stones are better left unturned."
"Or maybe he'd want justice," Luca counters. "Maybe he'd want his daughter to stop living in fear."
"My father understood the cost of vengeance better than anyone," I say, my voice steady despite growing anger that he presumes to know my father better than I do. "And he'd do anything to protect his family, just like I'm doing now." I stand up, wanting to put distance between us. "My father would have wanted me to keep his grandchildren safe above all else.”
Luca rises too, his jaw tight with frustration. "And you think hiding is keeping them safe? Whoever orchestrated your father's downfall is still out there, Elena. They still have power."
"Which is exactly why stirring up the past is dangerous!" My voice rises despite my effort to stay calm. "You're about to become Don Monti. You'll have legitimate power, respect. Why risk that?"
"Because until I clear my name, there will always be whispers." Luca steps closer, his intensity radiating like heat. "You think I don't see how Aldo's old soldiers look at me? You think I don't know how fast they’d take me out if given the opportunity?"
“And yet you want to give them the opportunity.” I shake my head and step away from him. "I can't be around you if you're going to pursue this. Not with my children in the middle."
Luca's eyes darken, hurt flashing across his features before hardening into something colder. "After everything, you're still pushing me away? Seven years, Elena. Seven years I've waited, thinking maybe when I came back…"
"I have responsibilities now. Things have changed."
"Right." He laughs, the sound sharp and humorless. "The children. Maybe that's what this is really about. Maybe you're waiting forhimto come back. After all, he has more claim to you than I do, right? The father of your children."
The irony is almost unbearable. Luca’s standing before me, claiming another man has more right to me, to our children. The truth burns in my gut, demanding release.
Tell him. Tell him now.
But I picture Rocco, Elio, and Adalina sleeping peacefully down the hall. I think of what it would mean if they were suddenly known as Monti children, targets for anyone with a grudge against Luca, pawns in games they're too young to understand.
"Their father isn't coming back," I say instead. "He doesn't even know about them."
Luca's expression shifts, confusion replacing anger. "What? Why wouldn't you tell him?"
"Because sometimes, secrets keep people safe." My eyes lock with his, willing him to understand what I can't say. "Just like sometimes, investigations get people killed."
"Elena—"
"Please, Luca. I've spent years building a life that protects my children. Don't ask me to risk that now."
He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him, smell the familiar scent that still haunts my dreams. "I would never let anything happen to you or your kids. You know that, right?"
The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks me.
He has no idea he's promising to protect his own children from a threat he's creating by digging into the past.
"I believe you mean that," I admit. "But intentions don't always matter in our world. Results do. Besides, all that has to happen is for Dom to support your Donship and seat at La Corona, which he's already done. You aren't being held back by the past except by your own pride."
Luca's eyes flash dangerously. "Pride?" His voice drops to that quiet intensity that always sends shivers down my spine. "Someone took my pride, took my honor and my life from me, and someone needs to pay for that."
The deadly conviction in his words makes me step back.
This isn't just about clearing his name.
It's about retribution.
This man before me carries seven years of festering injustice.
"And what about what was taken from me? You’re not the only one affected here. My father is dead. Nothing will bring him back."
"But you could have justice," Luca insists, moving closer again. "For him. For yourself."
