The kind that doesn't abandon you without explanation.
"He'll be gone soon enough." The foolish, romantic part of me I thought long dead aches at the thought of his leaving again. But the mother in me knows it's for the best.
Luca Dante is a hurricane. He destroys everything in his path, even when he doesn't mean to. And I've spent seven years building something too precious to risk in his storm.
Luca may have my past, but Enzo is my future. And no matter what my traitorous heart might yearn for, I won't let Luca Dante near my son.
"Really, Kat," Pyotr presses, his gaze too perceptive. "How does it feel seeing him again after all this time?"
I shrug, forcing my expression into careful neutrality. "It doesn't feel like anything. He's just another Dante now."
My brother studies me before turning away, unconvinced but unwilling to push further. Good. I don’t want to talk about Luca Dante.
I close my eyes, wanting to gain control of my emotions and my thoughts.
But it’s no use.
Behind my closed eyes, I feel the memory of Luca's hands on my skin, the heat of his breath against my neck.
The way he used to look at me like I was the only woman in the world.
Like I was made for him alone.
I remember the weight of his body pressing mine into silk sheets.
The low rumble of his voice when he'd whisper promises against my ear.
The safety I felt wrapped in his arms, even knowing what he was.
What a fool I was. What a pathetic, lovesick fool.
And still, my body betrays me.
Still, I feel the phantom trail of his fingertips along my spine, the ghost of his lips on mine.
The memory of him inside me, filling every empty space, making me whole.
"He'll be gone soon," I say aloud, though I'm not sure if I'm reassuring Pyotr or myself.
My brother nods, but his expression has shifted to something more calculating. "And if he's not? If Alessandro lets him stay?"
The question sends a fresh wave of panic through me. I hadn't considered that possibility.
Luca, back in New York permanently.
Luca, a constant presence at family gatherings. Luca, close enough to discover?—
No. I shut down that thought before it can fully form.
"Then I'll deal with it. It's been seven years, Pyotr. Whatever we had died a long time ago."
Another lie. I can see now that what we had never died.
It’s just been hidden away where it couldn't hurt me anymore.
Where it couldn't betray the secret I've guarded with my life.
The car is silent now as we head back to the Dante mansion.
