“And you’re still alive,” he replied.
The bluntness of it hit harder than it should have. Her lips parted—then pressed together again. Damn him. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t make it okay.
“Where is he?” she demanded. “Where is my father?” Luca didn’t answer right away. He moved past her instead, shrugging out of his jacket, revealing the blood soaking through his shirt. Her breath caught. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” he insisted. She could tell that he was lying.
She stepped closer before she could stop herself. “That’s not nothing.”
“It’s handled,” he spat. He said it like it didn’t matter. Like the pain didn’t touch him. He acted like blood wasn’t a problem unless it belonged to someone else.
“Where is he?” she asked again, softer this time—but no less urgent.
Luca finally looked at her. “He’s alive,” he said. Relief hit her so hard it almost knocked her off balance.
“Where?” she whispered.
“He’s in a secure location,” Luca promised.
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting right now, princess.”
Frustration surged through her veins. “You don’t get to keep this from me?—”
“I do if it keeps you breathing and keeps you safe,” he shouted.
Her chest rose and fell sharply. “I want to see him.”
“No,” he breathed. That word came out a little too fast and felt final.
Her temper snapped. “You don’t get to just decide things for me, Luca.”
“I do when it’s your life on the line,” he countered.
“I don’t care?—”
“I do,” he said, interrupting her. The words hit harder than anything else he had said to her. She froze, and he didn’t look away. She half expected him to take back his words, but he didn’t. And for some reason, it made things worse, because he meant it.
Her pulse stuttered. “You don’t get to care,” she said, quieter now.
His gaze darkened. “Too late.” Something in her chest twisted—sharp, confusing, and dangerous.
She shook her head, stepping back. “No. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Act like this is something it’s not.”
“And what is it?” he asked.
“It’s a deal,” she said. “A war tactic. A marriage you don’t even want.”
His jaw tightened. “That doesn’t mean I won’t protect what’s mine.” There it was again. That word—mine.
Her stomach dropped. “I’m not yours.” Luca stepped closer. Close enough to make her breath hitch.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You are.”
