I don't know if I believe him. But for now, it's enough.
"And be careful. These people have already killed your father and your uncle. They won't hesitate to come after you next."
A dangerous glint flickers in his eyes. "I've been handling dangerous people since before I left New York."
"That's what worries me. You've always been too fearless for your own good."
"I'll be careful," he promises. "I have more to lose now than I did back then."
I want to believe it means something. And it does. He’s invested in Enzo. But it doesn’t mean he’s planning to stay forever.
"It's strange," he says, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Not so long ago, you could barely stand to be in the same room as me. Now you're worried about my safety."
This time, I do roll my eyes. "I'm worried about Enzo losing his father right after meeting him."
"Is that all?" His eyebrow arches, his cockiness returning. He shifts closer, the energy between us shifting to something more sensual.
"You're impossible," I mutter, but there's no heat behind my words. Not when his hands are pulling me closer.
"That’s what you love about me.”
Love. God help me, I do.
Before I can formulate a cutting response, he leans forward and captures my lips with his.
The kiss is slow, deep, filled with intention.
My hands find their way to his chest, where I can feel his heartbeat.
For a moment, the world around us falls away.
No Bratva, no traitors.
Just us, finding our way back to each other for however much time we have.
I melt against him, letting down my guard.
Our lips are fused as he guides me to my room, and slowly he undresses me.
As he lays me on the bed, his lips and hands doing delicious things to me, my head spins with mixed emotions.
Fear and hope, desire and doubt.
There’s an overwhelming sense of dread that my time with Luca is short.
Someway, somehow, I’m going to lose him again.
21
LUCA
I run my hand through my hair, staring at the warehouse from my car parked up the road.
Three days since Matty dropped dead at the dinner table, and I'm still chasing shadows.
The list my father left behind has led me down one dead end after another.
Fatigue burns behind my eyes, but I can't stop now.
