26. Mia
26
MIA
L uca’s words hang in the air, heavy with years of pain and resentment. I sit in stunned silence, trying to process everything he’s told me. The cruelty, the betrayal, the years of suffering—it’s almost too much to comprehend. My mind races, trying to reconcile the Sicuras I thought I knew with the people Luca has just described.
“Mia?” Luca's voice is hesitant, vulnerable in a way I’ve never heard before. “Say something, please.”
I look up at him, seeing him as if for the first time. The hard edges of the man I thought I knew have softened, revealing the wounded boy beneath. My heart aches for him, for all he’s been through.
The pain in his eyes is raw, real, and it shakes me to my core.
“I… I can’t believe it,” I finally manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe Dom or his father would be capable of something so cruel.”
Luca’s face hardens slightly at the mention of Dom's name, but he remains silent, waiting for me to continue. I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides.
“My family—my father—has worked with the Sicuras for decades,” I say, more to myself than to Luca. The words taste bitter in my mouth as I speak them. “They were always good business partners. But… it matters how people treat those who work for them. It’s devastating to hear they treated your family so poorly.”
I think back to all the times I’ve seen Dom and his father at events, their easy smiles and warm greetings. How could those same people be capable of such callousness?
The disconnect is jarring, and it makes me question everything I thought I knew about my family’s associates.
It’s one thing to treat your enemies a certain way, but not people who work for you. Not people whom you are supposed to consider ‘family’.
I reach out, taking Luca’s hand in mine. His skin is warm against my palm, and I can feel the slight tremor running through him. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, the words feeling inadequate in the face of his pain. “What happened to you, to your family… it’s unforgivable.”
Luca shakes his head, cutting me off. “It’s not your fault, Mia. You don’t need to apologize.” His voice is gruff, but there’s a softness in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. “I… I shouldn’t have forced you into this marriage over it.”
His admission takes me by surprise. It’s the first time he's acknowledged the circumstances of our union in such a way. I feel a flutter in my chest, a mix of relief and something else I can’t quite name.
“I just…” he continues, his voice low and intense. “I hate watching Dom have everything handed to him on a silver platter after what my family sacrificed to get him there. The envy, the resentment… it’s eaten away at me for years. It’s why I kidnapped Sofia in the first place.”
“Do you… do you feel bad about that?” I ask cautiously, my voice trembling slightly. I can hear the accusation in my tone, the hurt and anger bubbling up despite my best efforts to remain calm. “About kidnapping my sister? She was innocent in all this.”
Luca sighs, running a hand through his hair. The gesture is so human, so vulnerable, that it catches me off guard. “Would you be mad if I say I’m not sure?”
His response hits me like a slap in the face. I jump to my feet, suddenly unable to sit still. “Not sure?” I repeat, my voice rising. “Luca, you kidnapped my sister! She was terrified. We all were! How can you not be sure whether you feel bad about that?”
I pace the room, my emotions a whirlwind inside me. Part of me wants to understand, to be the mature, understanding wife. But another part—the part that remembers the sleepless nights, the tears, the fear—that part wants to scream at him.
“Mia,” Luca starts, but I cut him off.
“No, don’t ‘Mia’ me,” I snap. “You can’t just tell me this tragic backstory and expect everything to be okay. It doesn’t work like that!”
Luca stands too, his face a mix of frustration and regret. “I’m not expecting everything to be okay,” he says, his voice tense. “I’m trying to be honest with you.”
“Honest?” I laugh, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “Honest would have been telling me all this before you forced me to marry you!”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Luca flinches as if I’ve struck him, and the pain in his eyes makes my heart clench.
Who am I to judge Luca so harshly? The memory of my father flashes through my mind, and with it comes a flood of conflicting emotions.
I sink back onto the bed, my head in my hands. “God, I’m such a hypocrite,” I mutter.
Luca looks at me, confusion evident on his face. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath, trying to organize my chaotic thoughts. “I’m sitting here, so angry at you for kidnapping Sofia. But my father… he did worse things, Luca. Much worse. And I forgave him, even loved him.”
A memory surfaces, one I’ve tried hard to suppress over the years. I was twelve, sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack. I heard voices from my father’s study—angry, desperate voices. Curious, I peeked through the crack in the door.
What I saw haunts me to this day. A man on his knees, begging for his life. My father, standing over him, gun in hand, his right-hand man, Victorio, looking at the scene impassively.
The cold look in Papa’s eyes as he pulled the trigger… it was like looking at a stranger.
I shudder at the memory, wrapping my arms around myself. “I saw my father kill a man once,” I whisper, not meeting Luca’s eyes. “He didn’t know I was there. I never told anyone.”
Luca is silent for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is gentle. “Mia, you don’t have to?—”
“No,” I cut him off. “I do. Because I’m sitting here judging you when I’ve forgiven my father for so much worse. What kind of person does that make me?”
I stand up again, pacing the room. My emotions are a whirlwind inside me—anger, guilt, confusion, all swirling together until I can hardly breathe.
“Your father was a Don, Mia,” Luca says softly. “It’s different.”
I whirl on him. “Is it? Is it really? He killed people, Luca. He ordered others to kill. He ruined lives. And yet, I loved him. I still love him, even knowing what he did. So how can I sit here and condemn you for kidnapping Sofia?”
I slump onto the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t know how to process all this, Luca,” I admit, my voice small. “It’s… it’s a lot.”
Luca approaches cautiously, sitting beside me but not touching me. “I know,” he says. “I shouldn’t have dumped it all on you at once. I just… I wanted you to understand.”
I nod, picking at a loose thread on the bedspread. “I’m trying to,” I say. “But it’s hard. I keep thinking about Sofia, about how scared she was. And then I think about you, about what the Sicuras did to your family, and I get so angry at them. But then I remember that Dom is married to my sister, that he’s going to be the father of my niece or nephew, and I just… I don’t know how to reconcile it all.”
Luca is quiet for a moment, then he says softly, “Maybe we don’t have to reconcile it all right now. Maybe it’s okay to be confused, to be angry and understanding at the same time.”
I look at him, surprised by his words. “When did you get so wise?” I ask, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself.
He shrugs, a wry grin on his face. “I have my moments.”
We sit in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, I gather the courage to ask the question that's been nagging at me.
“Luca… what happens now? With us, I mean.”
He turns to me, his eyes serious. “What do you want to happen?”
I bite my lip, considering. “I don’t know,” I admit. “Part of me is still angry, still hurt. But another part… another part feels like I’m seeing the real you for the first time. And I think… I think I like that person.”
Luca’s eyes widen slightly. “Even after everything I’ve told you?”
I nod slowly. “Maybe even because of it. You’re not just the cold, vengeful man I thought you were. You’re complex. You're human. You’ve been hurt, and you’ve hurt others. But you’re trying to be better. That… that means something.”
Luca reaches out, hesitantly taking my hand in his. “Mia,” he says, his voice low and intense. “I can’t promise I’ll change overnight. My feelings about the Sicuras, about Dom… they’re not going to disappear. But I want to try. For you. Because you make me want to be better.”
His words send a warmth spreading through my chest. I lean in, resting my forehead against his. “That’s all I’m asking for,” I murmur. “Just try.”
We stay like that for a moment, just breathing each other in. Then, slowly, Luca tilts his head, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens.
I respond eagerly, my hands coming up to tangle in his hair. All the confusion, all the conflicting emotions of the past few hours, seem to crystallize into this moment. It’s not perfect, it’s not simple, but it feels real in a way nothing else has since this whole ordeal began.
As we fall back onto the bed, clothes starting to come off, I have a moment of clarity. This isn’t going to fix everything. We still have a long way to go, a lot to work through. But right now, in this moment, I don’t care.
Right now, I just want to feel close to him, to lose myself in the connection we’re building.
Luca pulls back for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice husky.
I nod, pulling him back down to me. “I’m sure,” I whisper against his lips.
As we lose ourselves in each other, I can’t help but feel that something has shifted between us. This isn’t just physical attraction or the fulfillment of marital duties.
This is something deeper, something real .
And as the world fades away, leaving just me and Luca and the growing connection between us, I allow myself to hope.
Hope that maybe, just maybe, we can build something beautiful out of all this pain and confusion.