He lets me go immediately, as if he is afraid any prolonged contact might overstep some boundary. His eyes are red, the whites streaked with veins. A damp stain spreads across the front of his shirt where my face pressed.
I swipe at my cheeks with shaky fingers.
His words come out hoarse. "If there is even the smallest chance that one day you might allow me back into your life in some capacity, I will do whatever it takes to earn it. But I will not demand it. I have no right to demand anything of you. I hope you can forgive me one day."
He looks older than ever, standing there, shoulders bowed under the weight of his choices in a way I've never seen. It's not the Luca who rules rooms with a single glance. It's a man stripped of titles and pretense, asking for mercy.
The strange pressure in my chest swells until it aches.
Forgiveness.
If anyone else asked, it would sound saintly and ridiculous. Forgiveness is not a currency in my world. It is a luxury for people who did not grow up in blood-soaked halls.
Except I know exactly how much it cost me every time the Omnichose vengeance and I had to be their administrator. And I don't want to be shackled to ghosts.
So I stare at Luca, taking in the regret carved into every line of his face, the way his hands shake, the wetness in his eyes. I think about little me at the window and Zara holding her babies. Then I think about the life Brax and I are trying to build, and it's not anchored to old wounds.
The answer rises in me without hesitation. "Okay."
His brows crease with confusion. "Okay?"
"Okay. I forgive you," I declare.
He staggers back a half step, as if the words physically struck him. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Moisture spills over his lower lashes, drawing fresh tracks down his cheeks. "You forgive me?"
"Yes. Holding onto the past doesn't make either of us winners. We both lose, and I've already lost enough," I state.
A short, broken sound escapes him. He lifts a hand as if he might reach for me again, then drops it. "I don't deserve that grace."
"No one in our world deserves much of anything," I reply, a wry edge slipping in.
Emotion flickers through his gaze, too complicated to name. He finally swallows hard. "Thank you. I..." He takes a deep breath.
The door opens, and Brax steps inside. He protectively steps next to me. "Luca. What's going on here?" He cautiously glances between us.
Luca rises taller. "I was apologizing to Valentina. And I must leave now, or I'll miss my meeting."
Disappointment hits me, along with surprise. He just got here, but what should I have expected?
Luca steps closer to me. He asks, "May I?"
For a split second, I consider telling him no out of sheer spite. Then I nod. He draws me into a second hug, gentler than the first but no less sincere. His lips press briefly to the top of my head, just like they did when I was small.
He murmurs, "I will not disappear again. If you ever want to talk, shout, throw things, or just sit in silence, I am a phone call away."
I swallow hard. "We will see how brave you are when I throw things."
His mouth tilts in the shadow of a smile. Amusement fills his tone, and he replies, "You always had a good arm."
I softly laugh at a flashback of when I was a little girl and had a temper tantrum. I got mad at him and threw his candy back, only to beg for it again an hour later.
He lets me go and turns to Brax.
The two men regard each other for a long beat. The air between them hums with unspoken things, but there's a shared protectiveness over me.
Luca extends his hand. "Thank you."
Brax takes his offered hand, gripping it firmly. "You're welcome."
