“This time, we get our happily ever after. Enzo, this little one, you and me."
For the first time, I allow myself to imagine a future that isn't shadowed by abandonment or betrayal.
And yet… reality creeps back in. "Luca, you know it's not that simple. The Bratva won't just let me walk away. Even your brother could force me to?—”
Luca's confident smile doesn't waver as he brushes a strand of hair from my face. "Alessandro will let you go. I have no doubt.”
"And the Bratva?" I challenge, trying to inject reason into this beautiful fantasy I want so desperately to come true.
"Maksim?" Luca scoffs. "He'll do anything to get me out of New York. Trust me."
The surety in his voice should worry me.
Luca has always been dangerously confident.
Then again, he’s always survived.
"After what happened, I think Maksim is afraid of me." A smug grin spreads across his face.
I laugh, surprising both of us. "Everyone is afraid of you, Luca."
His expression softens, replacing the dangerous confidence. "I hope you're not. And I hope Enzo isn't either. I don't want my son growing up fearing me."
I place my hand on his cheek. "We're not afraid of you. We love you."
This isn’t the first time I’ve said the words in this exchange, but there’s something about it now that feels solid and true.
After holding back my feelings to protect myself, I've finally said what's been in my heart all along.
He must sense it too. "Say it again.” His arms tighten around me.
"I love you," I repeat, savoring how right the words feel after denying them for so long.
His response is immediate.
He pulls me closer, wincing slightly as his injured chest takes pressure.
I catch the flash of pain across his face even as he tries to hide it.
"You're still healing," I chide, gently pulling away.
Luca's eyes darken with desire, and he pulls me back against him, his mouth hovering just above mine. "I've been shot before," he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips. "I know my limits."
“Even so?—”
“You’re the best medicine.” His lips slide down my neck as his hands move to cup my breasts.
“Luca, the doctor?—”
“Dr. Katerina, please fix what ails me.” He takes my hand and presses it over a substantial erection.
I can’t deny that I need his touch, but…
“Only you can heal me.”
And only he can heal me. "Lie down.” I guide him toward the bed. "Let me take care of you."
His smile turns wolfish as he complies, easing himself carefully onto the mattress.
