Chapter 14
Luciano
The door shut behind me, sealing out the rest of the house. The air in La Stanza del Giudizio was thick with the scent of bleach, covering the mold, blood, and decay.
I let out a slow breath. The heads sat where I’d left them.
I pulled the only chair in the room to face them.
Then I sat, exhaling through my nose, pressing my fingers against my temples.
I stared at them, their empty eyes fixed on nothing, their mouths frozen open, like they had something important to say before I took it from them.
I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees, adjusting my glasses.
“To have reached this age without knowing the warmth of a woman’s flesh,” I started, “without experiencing the most fundamental of human instincts—it’s unnatural.” My throat was sore from overuse, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to get some things off my chest. “I am an anomaly. A deviation from the expected trajectory of a man in my position.”
I tilted my head, studying them. “And whose fault is that?” I paused as if they could answer, then answered for them.
“It’s yours. You all stole normal from me. You pried it from my hands before I even knew what it was.”
I continued, tapping my fingers against my thigh, considering my next words. “It wasn’t lack of opportunity. Nor lack of desire.”
My gaze drifted to Tomaso’s. “I should be like other men. It is expected. It’s biological. Instinctual to want to fuck. And yet—” I exhaled slowly. “I can’t.”
I sighed. “Theoretical knowledge, I possess in abundance. I have read, I have observed, I have studied.” A pause. “But the practical application remains an equation left unsolved.”
I tapped a finger against the surface of the table once. It pushed away my urge to knock all the cases to the floor.
I want Ava so much. I saw her naked today.”
My jaw tightened. “And do you know what I did?”
I let the silence stretch.
“I ran.”
The word was bitter on my tongue.
I pressed my palm flat against my thighs, steadying myself.
“I was hard the second I saw her,” I admitted, because what use was lying? “Years of thinking, planning, waiting—I wanted to take what she was offering. But I fucking ran.”
I tilted my head, staring at them.
“And that is your fault.”
“I was supposed to be normal.”
Normal men didn’t have to study intimacy like a test they needed to pass. They didn’t have to practice their tone, their body language, their words, their expressions just to appear human.
Normal men didn’t run at the idea of sex with someone they wanted.
I had read about trauma responses. How the brain rewired itself to protect against pain, how it shut down what it couldn’t process. I had spent years dissecting the science behind what I had become, but no amount of analysis could fix it.
Not after what I’d seen. I had been there. In that room. Watched my mother scream until her throat was raw, until her voice gave out entirely. I had seen her stripped, brutalized, broken, her body taken.
And now, years later, I couldn’t look at pale skin without thinking of her. Couldn’t see bare flesh without remembering that day.
Ava had no idea what I lacked. What I might not ever be able to give her.
I would never be normal.
Ava deserved normal.
But I deserved Ava.
There should be reward for survival. For endurance.
And Ava deserved me because I would go to war and win so she could have the peace she craved.
The door creaked open behind me.
I turned to face it.
My father walked in.
“The guards said you were down here.” He stepped forward, his shoes clicking against the floor. “I assume there’s a reason for that?”
I straightened, adjusting my glasses. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He hummed, eyes flicking to the heads, then back to me. He studied me.
Then—
“Go to bed, Luciano.” His voice was level but firm. “We have more guests arriving tomorrow. You’ll need to be well-rested.”
I nodded, moving to stand.
I took a step and he stopped me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
He exhaled. “You’ll also have to settle things with Carlos’s father. Eventually.”
I nodded once.
“You understand what that means?”
“Yes,” I said, because it was what he wanted to hear, but I didn’t give a fuck about Carlos’s father. He would have to do what I’d done. Seek vengeance and die or live with doing nothing.
It made no difference to me.
Silence stretched between us.
I just stared at him. Could see the guilt in his eyes. It was always there. He felt responsible for what happened to me. To my mother.
I didn’t blame him for the actions of others.
I blamed him for the exile.
For sending me away like I was an inconvenience.
He called it necessity. Survival. He framed it as protecting me. But I know the truth—he didn’t know what to do with me.
My grandmother had been cruel. I think she made me worse.
She believed that I shouldn’t feel.
I was a boy, so to her, that meant I could not afford softness. Could not afford grief. Could not afford to be anything other than what she expected a man to be.
She called my silence strength. My detachment discipline.
She never considered that maybe I just needed a hug. A platitude.
I respected my father. He had never been abusive or cruel to me. He’s a powerful man, a leader. I understand why men followed him. I understand why he’s feared.
But do I love him?
I don’t know.
I remember only having fondness for my mother. She was warmth, softness. I can still hear her voice in my head when the screaming stops, still remember the way she smelled, the way her arms felt around me.
The years before she was taken are murky, fragmented pieces that don’t always make sense. But I remember her.
I don’t remember loving my father.
But I know he loves me.
I see it in the way his gaze lingers on my face, in the way he watches me like he’s waiting for something—a hug or some affection. He hesitates sometimes before speaking, like he’s trying to choose words that won’t push me further away. He doesn’t do that for anyone else.
I must have been a lovable kid for a man like him to take my feelings into consideration. He had been indulgent even.
“Get some sleep, son,” he said, interrupting my ruminating.
He left without another word.
I turned back to the heads. I sighed. I needed to make peace with the truth.
I was never going to be normal.
Now I just needed to make sure Ava understood that too.