As I raise my hand to tap on his door, it swings open. Luka stands in front of me wearing a pair of red shorts. Nothing else. His hair flops over his eyes as he stares down at me.
Neither of us says anything. He seems surprised to see me, but then he registers whose tee I’m wearing and quirks a shapely eyebrow.
Not wanting to have this conversation in full view of anyone roaming around the house, such as Horatio, I push him backward and close the door.
“Come for a booty call?” he purrs with a smirk, but I’m not buying his attempt at nonchalance.
“No. I came to see if you’re okay.”
He drops the act and sighs. “I should be the one asking you that. What makes you think I’m not alright?”
“Because I may have overheard you and Angelo talking earlier.”
His lips curve up in a faint smile. “Have you been a bad girl listening at doors, cupcake?”
Dammit, why does he have to be so fucking flirty? He makes it hard to keep my mind on track.
I force unwanted thoughts of Luka spanking me from my mind. He’s trying to distract me with sex to avoid talking about the uncomfortable things. That’s his modus operandi.
“What made you get that drunk, Luka? Did some bitch touch you without consent?”
After what happened at the gala, I know this is a trigger for him.
“I don’t think so, but there are a few black holes in my memory.” He drops onto the bed and stares at the floor, all traces of amusement gone. “It was my own fucking fault. I should have been more careful with people I didn’t know all that well.”
Of course he’s blaming himself; he does this a lot.
“I’d been drinking too much and smoking weed. Fuck, I was seriously out of it, Chiara.” Unhappiness and shame have dug their pernicious claws deep into his flesh. “I’m such a fuck-up. No wonder my father doesn’t want me around.” The last few words are barely a whisper.
My heart bleeds for the hurt little boy inside the man. A boy desperate for his father’s love. Except his father is a fucking psychopath incapable of loving anyone but himself.
I edge closer and cup his cheeks with my hands. “I want you around.”
“No you don’t,” he scoffs, looking away. The misery coating his skin is palpable. “The minute Angelo sets you free, you’ll leave.”
“I’m a pet parent now,” I joke. “Angelo would demand joint custody, so I’m stuck here.”
He chokes out a laugh, but the black cloud smothering us doesn’t disperse.
When he leans back against the headboard, his eyes closed, I get the impression he thinks if he doesn’t engage, I’ll leave. But I’m not going anywhere until he understands I’m unhappy with my situation, not him.
“Did they hurt you?” he asks before I can form my next thought. The question sends me right back to the castle and those men. I shudder at the memory of being dropped on the edge of a pine forest to face an uncertain fate.
I also try not to think about the man I stabbed. He doesn’t deserve any space in my head.
“Yes, but Angelo and Kane rescued me.” Luka shakes his head.
“We’re both fucked up, aren’t we?” He’s right. We are both a mess. Not knowing what else to say, I snuggle up against him, resting my cheek on his chest. He’s warm and smells delicious.
The mattress shifts as he half turns toward me and curls his arm around me, pulling me closer.
“I’m sorry for leaving you,” he says eventually. “It hurt that you planned to leave me.”
As I suspected.
“And I’m sorry that you thought I wasn’t serious about you.”
A faint chuckle vibrates through me. “Women mostly see me as a good time, not forever.”
