Page 40 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

I glare at his smirk. "Touch me and I will bite your nose off."

Matteo nods with genuine appreciation. "Feisty. I respect boundaries. Handshake it is."

Luca ignores him. He steps closer to me, voice low. "Say the word and you never see this again. You stay in the house. You stay soft."

I look at the dead man. At the blood already congealing at the edges. "Soft gets people killed in your world. I noticed."

"Then stop flinching," he murmurs, his dark gaze raking over my trembling jawline.

I glare at him. "I'm not flinching. I'm recalculating. There's a difference. One involves math. The other involves therapy I'll never be able to afford after this shit."

He almost smiles. Almost. "You still talking."

"Someone has to fucking speak. Your creepy guards just stared at me like I was a puzzle with missing pieces and then vanished. Super comforting. Really grounds the whole murder vibe."

Matteo edges closer now that the gun is tucked away. "They do that. Creepy silent assassin energy. You get used to it right around never."

I roll my eyes. "Fabulous. Add it to the brochure. Scenic warehouses, complimentary executions, and mysterious guards who watch you like they know your middle name and your credit score."

Luca closes the distance between us, his broad frame cutting off the view of the blood on the floor. His leather-gloved fingers wrap around the crook of my elbow, applying just enough steady pressure to turn me around without wrenching my arm. The heavy heat of his palm radiates straight through my coat sleeve, anchoring me even as my pulse thumps against my ribs. He guides me past the puddles toward the open metal doorway, his stride measured and unhurried.

"We're leaving before you start charging consulting fees for better lighting," he murmurs.

"The lighting is garbage," I mutter. "How do you even aim properly?"

He guides me across the threshold without breaking his stride. "Practice."

I rub my temples. "Remind me never to challenge you to darts at a pub. Or literally anything involving projectiles."

"I will keep that under advisement," he murmurs back, his grip lingering on my sleeve for a beat too long before releasing me.

Outside, the morning air hits crisp and sharp. I suck in a deep lungful to clear the smell of iron and spent gunpowder. My hands don't shake, but the cold calculation of what just happened sits heavy in my chest. He killed a traitor without blinking. I stood there and watched it happen without falling apart. The rules of this world are brutal, but I'm adapting to them faster than I'd like to admit.

I climb in. Luca follows. Matteo starts the engine and immediately fills the quiet with noise. "So. Who's hungry? I'm thinking we skip the blood and go straight to carbs. Nora? You look like you could murder a pastry. No offense to the actual murder."

Luca pinches the bridge of his nose in sheer exhaustion. "Matteo."

Matteo catches Luca's glare in the rearview mirror and lifts a single shoulder. "Right. Espresso first, trauma processing later. Message received."

I stare out the window as the warehouse shrinks behind us. The image of the man's open mouth won't leave. Neither will the way Luca's hand stayed steady. Neither will Vittorio's quiet stare, heavy with something I can't name yet.

"You okay?" Luca asks after a mile of road.

I lean my head against the cool glass. "Define okay. If it includes a massive existential crisis and the sudden urge to bill you for emotional trauma, then sure. Peak fucking wellness."

He watches me sideways. "You didn't throw up. Most people throw up."

"I'm saving it for the ride home," I drawl. "Dramatic timing. Keeps the audience engaged."

Matteo laughs too loud, shaking his head. "She's fucking magnificent, Luca. Terrifying, but magnificent."

Chapter 15

LUCA

Seven days. That is the exact span of time Nora has spent turning this twelve-bedroom house into an obstacle course, slipping into the dining room only when my seat is cold and the coffee pot is empty.

I've built empires on strategy. I've buried men who thought they could outmaneuver me. And still I can't figure out how a woman with no security training and a smart mouth has turned an entire estate into a game of hide and seek, one where I am always, somehow, it.