5. Chapter Five #2
“You of all people understand that,” Bran finishes quietly.
“And what about what I want?”
I turn back toward Dad.
“You’re still controlling everything from a hospital bed. God forbid I make one decision about my own life.”
“This isn’t about control.”
His voice sharpens.
“It’s about keeping you alive.”
“It’s always about control with you.”
“Luca will protect you until this is over.”
Dad doesn’t raise his voice, but authority hardens every word.
“You will accept the arrangement. He knows our family, he knows our security, and he noticed the threat before anyone else in that room.”
“He also abandoned you.”
The words escape before I can stop them.
Silence follows.
Luca’s face flashes through my mind as he admitted he should have been protecting Francis instead of me.
Dad studies me.
“No,” he says. “He followed Brandon’s order and got you out.”
His gaze flicks toward my brother.
“That is not a failure.”
Something twists inside my chest.
“He’s family,” Dad continues. “And he’s the person I trust most with your life.”
I grind my teeth.
“I won’t do it.”
“Yes, you will.”
Steel enters his voice.
“You don’t have to enjoy it. You don’t have to like him. But you will cooperate.”
He settles back against the pillows.
“That’s final.”
Bran glances between us as though he’s watching two lit fuses burn toward the same explosion.
“Maybe everyone needs a minute.”
He takes my arm and guides me toward the door.
“Come on.”
“Send Luca in,” Dad says.
Bran nods.
He doesn’t release me until we’re in the corridor.
Luca stands exactly where we left him.
Rigid.
Silent.
His attention is fixed on the floor, and a muscle ticks along his jaw.
For one strange second, he looks as though he blames himself for everything that happened tonight.
The sight strips away my anger.
Only for a moment.
He raises his head.
Before his eyes can meet mine, I look away.
“He wants to see you,” Bran says.
Luca walks past us and enters Dad’s room.
I catch the clean, familiar scent of him as he passes.
My body reacts before I can stop it.
I hate that too.
Bran waits until the door closes.
Then he turns toward me.
“Okay. Cut the bullshit.”
Several guards stand within earshot, but Bran doesn’t seem to care.
I open my mouth.
He raises one hand.
“No. You’ve said enough.”
I glare at him.
“I don’t care what your problem with Luca is. He’s my best friend. He’s family.”
That word again.
“And if there is one person on this planet who will give everything he has to keep you alive, it’s him.”
Bran steps closer.
“I trust him with my life. You trust him too, no matter how determined you are to pretend otherwise.”
“I don’t—”
“Yes, you do.”
He lowers his voice.
“When the shooting started, you froze. When Luca reached you, you went with him.”
“I was being dragged.”
“You wrapped your arms around him and let him carry you out.”
My cheeks heat.
“That’s different.”
“Why? Because admitting you trust him would interfere with whatever feud you’ve been nursing for the last five years?”
“I don’t have a feud.”
Bran gives me a deeply unimpressed look.
“As for the tour, I know this hurts. I know how hard you worked.”
His tone softens.
“But you aren’t invincible. A concert gives whoever did this a date, a time, a venue, and thousands of people to hide behind.”
That lands harder than anything Dad said.
“This isn’t permanent. We identify the threat, the police make arrests, and you return to your life.”
He pauses.
“But until then, stop fighting the people who are trying to keep you alive.”
“I don’t have a problem with Luca,” I say weakly.
Bran smiles without humor.
“I’d believe you more easily if you told me you were in love with him.”
My heart reacts violently to the word.
Love.
And Luca.
In the same sentence.
No.
Absolutely not.
I force out a scoff. “You’re hilarious.”
“My point is that you need to get yourself together.”
Bran takes my arm again and turns us toward the room.
“And maybe it’s time you dealt with whatever happened between you instead of making everyone else suffer through it.”
When we return, Luca stands beside Dad’s bed as though he’s already on duty.
His posture is straight. His expression is composed. He nods once at something Dad says, then steps back.
My eyes linger on him.
His hair is still nearly perfect.
His suit remains immaculate despite carrying me through an alley and driving at least twice the speed limit.
He looks controlled.
Unshaken.
Untouchable.
It annoys me.
Dad’s expression softens when he looks at me again.
Bran joins Luca near the foot of the bed while I remain several feet away.
“I can always rely on your brother to talk sense into you,” Dad says.
I cross my arms.
“I’ve given you freedom, Simone. More than you seem willing to acknowledge.”
I nearly laugh.
“But this is different. I can’t gamble with your life.”
I don’t answer.
He takes my silence as permission to continue.
“Your mother…”
The words stop him.
His jaw tightens as though her name has lodged in his throat.
Dad hasn’t spoken about her this directly in years.
Every angry thought inside me goes silent.
“I didn’t protect her the way I should have.”
His voice is quieter now.
“I thought we had more time. I thought she was safe.”
A crack appears in his composure, but he quickly seals it.
“I’ve lived with that mistake every day since she died.”
My hands curl into fists.
Mom is dangerous territory.
I can’t think of her for too long without seeing her smile, hearing her voice, or remembering the hospital room where she took her final breath.
“I won’t lose you too.”
Dad looks toward Bran.
“Either of you.”
Then his attention moves to Luca.
“Out of everyone, I trust him most to protect you.”
Luca’s face remains unreadable, but something shifts in his eyes.
“Not simply because it’s his job,” Dad continues. “Because he would care if he failed.”
My gaze moves to Luca before I can stop it.
He’s already looking at me.
For one suspended second, neither of us turns away.
I think of him searching the ballroom.
Shielding me with his body.
Carrying me through the alley.
I had one job.
You.
The anger drains out of me.
Not completely.
But enough.
“Fine.”
I throw my hands up.
“Whatever.”
Dad reaches for me with his uninjured hand.
“That isn’t enough.”
I walk closer and place my hand in his.
His skin is warm.
Alive.
A pulse beats beneath my fingers, reminding me how close I came to losing him.
“You have to promise me, Simone.”
His grip tightens.
“Promise me you’ll cooperate. That you’ll listen to Luca when he tells you something is dangerous. That you won’t make his job harder simply because you’re angry with me.”
I look toward Luca again.
His expression hasn’t changed, but his eyes remain fixed on me.
This arrangement feels like a cage already closing around my life.
But Dad is here.
Breathing.
Holding my hand.
And I would agree to almost anything to keep him that way.
“I promise.”