Chapter 82
Luca braced his hands on the edge of the bed, breathing through the pain.
He clenched his jaw. He would deal with Bastardi. He would deal with Vito.
But first, Veronica Scalese.
He straightened as much as his injured body would allow.
“I’ll have clothes brought.” Marco sighed knowing Luca wasn’t going to listen.
By the time Luca eventually got to Vee’s apartment, his body was staging a quiet rebellion. His lungs burned, each breath shallow. The medication still swam in his bloodstream, blurring the edges of the world, turning the hallway into a narrow tunnel that pulsed with light.
His left hand dragged along the wall for balance, fingers brushing cold plaster. Pain bloomed with every step, a reminder that he had no business being upright. Still, he moved forward.
Because he needed to get to her. Now. He needed to look Veronica in the face and tell her the truth. It did not matter.
When he reached her door, he pushed it open. His eyes found her immediately.
Vee was sitting by the window, knees drawn up slightly, her body turned toward the glass. Beyond it, the mansion loomed. She was watching it. Was she waiting for him?
She turned at the sound of the door, and shock cracked across her face. She shot to her feet. “Luca p>
He should move. He knew that. He should cross the room, close the distance, gather her into his arms and let his knees give out if they must. But if he moved now, even an inch, he knew his body would betray him. He would collapse. So he stayed where he was, standing in the doorway, jaw clenched to keep the pain from spilling out in sounds.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her feet rooted to the floor. She did not come closer. She did not step back. Instead, she built an invisible wall between them, brick by careful brick.
He saw it. God help him, he saw it clearly.
“Bambola he whispered. “Don’t do this p>
“What p>
Luca winced. He took another step toward her anyway, pride dragging his injured body forward. His knee threatened to buckle. His vision flickered. He refused to acknowledge either.
Vee swore under her breath and rushed to him. “You shouldn’t be here, you stubborn knucklehead. What is wrong with you?” Her hands were suddenly everywhere, one at his elbow, the other braced against his chest. “Why are you here p>
He let her guide him to the nearest sofa, his weight sinking into the cushions with a low, involuntary groan. He slumped back.
“I should have told you,” he said finally.
“What p>
“I know what you’re doing,” Luca said, forcing himself upright a little, ignoring the way pain flared white-hot along his side. “And I will not let you do it. We were good this morning, Veronica. We were good. We were in a good place. Whatever you learned, it changes nothing. It shouldn’t change anything p>
“Marco told you,” she sighed, exhaustion leaking through her anger. She turned away from him, pacing once, then stopping by the armchair she never actually sat in.
“Marco tells me everything,” Luca said automatically, then paused. His mouth twisted. “Well… at least he used to p>
Vee exhaled slowly, folding her arms around herself. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “It doesn’t change anything.” She looked at him then, eyes resolute. “It just reminds me of boundaries I should have. Whether you’re married or not p>
“Fuck boundaries,” Luca snapped. Pain stabbed through him instantly and he hissed, one hand flying to his side. “I don’t want boundaries,” he went on anyway. “I want you. I want this p>
“Then define it,” Vee shot back. “Define what I am to you, Luca.” She gestured at him, at the IV bruise blooming on his arm, at the pallor beneath his tan. “And I would really prefer to have this conversation when you’re not wincing every two seconds like you’re about to pass out p>
“You’re mine. That’s all there is to it,” Luca said.
“I’m yours to do what with?” she asked quietly.
Luca opened his mouth, then closed it. His brows pulled together, frustration in his expression. “I… you He exhaled sharply, annoyed at himself. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and the honesty tasted strange. “I just know I want you with me p>
She shook her head slowly, almost sadly. “As what, Luca? Define it. What will you call me? How will you introduce me to people? How do I introduce you to people p>
“Do we have to put a label on this?” Luca asked, irritation flickering. Labels meant permanence. Permanence meant consequences. Consequences meant the Genovese family eyes would be on her.
“Hence why the boundaries do have to be there,” Vee replied immediately. “So I don’t start fantasising about things I cannot have.” She stopped herself, jaw tightening, breath catching. Her eyes dropped to the floor. “So I don’t want too much p>
“Want whatever you want, Bambola,” he said fiercely. “I’ll get it to you. I’ll give it to you. Tell me what you want p>
“Okay,” she said. “I walked straight into that one.” She rubbed her palms together. “I don’t know p>
He sagged back slightly, breath shaking, exhaustion finally clawing its way past stubbornness. “So let’s just be, Vee,” Luca said. “Let’s… just be p>
“We can’t just be. I’ll do what I have to do to give you what I owe you. For saving my sister. For winning the auction on me.” Her shoulders squared, spine straightening. “Just tell me what I have to do, and I will do it. It doesn’t matter what it is. I’m ready p>
Luca stared at her, realising that she was offering herself like payment, not choice.
He saw it then. The exact moment he lost her. This one hurt differently, because it came as resignation instead of anger. She wasn’t fighting him anymore. She was retreating.
He had been so close. So fucking close.
Fuck it.
“Vee Her name left his mouth like a plea, stripped of authority, stripped of command.
“I’ll go get Marco,” she said quickly, already moving, already halfway gone.