“Ava, I know you’re upset,” Luca began, his voice low, trying to calm her.
“Upset?”she yelled, throwing her hands in the air as she paced.Her hair danced with her movement, a stark contrast to the fury in her eyes.“I don’t even know what to say!I’m not upset, Luca.I’m furious!”She glanced at the two glasses of scotch on the table, and with one swift motion, grabbed one and downed it in one swallow.She hissed as it burned down her throat and handed him the empty glass without looking at him.She wasn’t done yet, though.She grabbed the second glass, drained it as well, and set it down, still trembling.
Luca stared, speechless for a moment, as Ava’s anger radiated from her.He wanted to step in, to hold her, but he knew better than to interrupt.She was fighting for him in a way that he hadn’t expected.She wasn’t just upset; she wasinvested—more than he had ever dared hope.
“Here’s what I’ve figured out over the past few hours,” she started again, more quietly.It was a controlled fury now, one that demanded his full attention.“You went to my house to draw him out, or maybe just to check on me.But then you let yourself captured, Luca, so that you could get a lead on that vile man.”She resumed pacing, the tension in her body unmistakable, before she paused and turned back to him, locking eyes with him.“You did that to yourself.”
Luca took a slow breath, carefully pouring himself another glass of scotch.He moved to sit on the couch without taking his eyes from her.Ava was working through everything in real time, piecing it together like a puzzle.And despite the rush of anger that still burned within her, Luca couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.She had a sharp mind, sharper than he’d realized, and she had the strength to confront him with it.
“I’m not done,” she muttered, shaking her head.“I trusted you, Luca.I trusted you to be smart.I didn’t know you’d do something like that.But now…” Her voice trailed off, a hint of vulnerability slipping through.“Now, I don’t knowwhatto think.”
Luca’s gaze softened as he watched her pace the length of his office, fury snapping in the air like static before a storm.Tonight had cost her.
His woman.His fiancée.
She wasn’t just angry.
She was terrified.
Terrified for him.For what he was willing to risk.For the enemies who would happily spill blood to reach him.
And that realization cut deeper than her accusations ever could.
But the worst part?
She was right.
She was always right.
As she turned sharply and paced back the other direction, he felt the past year rearrange itself in his mind.
He had thought she’d been rejecting him.
He had thought she enjoyed watching him chase.
He had thought he was slowly losing ground to a woman who refused to be impressed by the Don of Las Vegas.
Now he saw it clearly.
They hadn’t been clashing.
They had been dating.
Just not the normal way.
Not with candlelight and reservations.
With leverage and arguments.
With strategy and public sparring.
With eyes locking across crowded ballrooms.
At the ribbon-cutting ceremony for his newest development, she’d walked the construction site in red heels, entirely out of place among the dust and steel.She’d circled the perimeter first, assessing the build, then glanced at him—once, deliberately—until he crossed the distance between them.
She’d smiled politely, introduced herself as if he didn’t already know exactly who she was, then excused herself before he could press further.
He’d stood there, stunned.
