Chapter 26
Ava
You know how you wake up and immediately remember everything that happened the day before because it never left your mind—even in rest? That’s how I woke up. Adrenaline pumping. My heartbeat loud in my ears. The wedding. The kidnapping. The blood. It all came rushing back in vivid detail. I had killed someone.
And I didn’t feel ashamed. Didn’t feel evil. Didn’t even feel guilty. But I was still in pain.
My wrists ached. My ribs, my face too. Every breath reminded me of what happened. I inhaled. The sheets smelled like lavender and linen—clean, soft, familiar. I opened my eyes.
And they landed on him.
Luciano. Sitting across from me in a black chair, legs spread, forearms resting on his thighs, eyes locked on mine like he hadn’t looked away all night.
“You always watch people sleep?” I rasped. My throat was dry, my voice cracked and worn. He tilted his head just slightly. “Only the ones I almost lost.”
His words hit me right in the chest.
I sat up slow, wincing, body stiff and aching. I remembered how careful he’d been with me last night.
“Luciano…” I whispered. “You asked me last night if I was broken. Are you?”
He didn’t blink. Didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
I tilted my head, watching his face. He was so unreadable. Was he angry? Sad? Or just… resigned?
“But not useless,” he clarified. “Not beyond function. Just… compromised. Certain parts of me don’t work the way they’re supposed to. Empathy, for example. Spontaneous joy. I have to manufacture those things. Mimic them.”
He watched me, letting me sit with that before continuing.
“All because of what happened to me. I don’t process things the way normal people do. I calculate. I analyze. I act. But I don’t… feel the way you do.”
A pause, like he was making sure I was still with him.
“I know how to protect. How to provide. How to eliminate threats. But connection? Intimacy? That’s not instinct for me. That’s work. It’s why you’re here. You make that work easier.”
“I can’tunderstand love. I think the chemicals in my brain were altered.But I’ll spend every day trying to understand the parts of you that make you happy. Isn't that all that love is anyways?”
"I guess it is." I didn't know whether we were right or not. I didn't know shit about love.
He nodded then he straightened his back.
“I have to handle something. I’ll be back in a few hours. You’re safe here.”
I sat up straighter. “Wait—”
He turned, halfway through the doorway, and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t open the door for anyone but me.”
And then he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him. I stared at it, chest tight.
Was he truly incapable of all the things he claimed—or was he running from them? To me, he seemed more emotional than he realized. Just… without the flowery words.
His honesty was brutal. Unvarnished. And after the life I’d had, I didn’t need sweet nothings whispered in my ear. He promised effort. Protection. To try—and for a man like him, that meant more than love ever could.
I stared at the door longer than I should have before sliding out of bed. The hardwood was cool under my feet. I went to the bathroom first, then naked, wandered the condo I’d been stashed in.
It wasn’t what I expected. Not sleek, sterile luxury like his father’s house. This place was warm. Cozy.
The kitchen smelled like lemon cleaner. Sunlight flooded in across polished counters. It was fully stocked. A soft couch sat in the living room.
In the bathroom, I saw a bottle of my favorite lotion—lavender vanilla. Same brand. Same scent. My eyes scanned the shelf. My soap. The stuff I used for my hair. My perfume.
My stomach twisted. Dre had been right. He’d been watching me.
I stepped into a side room—his office, I think. There were walls of books. Psychology. Strategy. Power dynamics. Criminal profiling. Self-help. Hundreds of them, some with sticky notes still sticking out the sides.
And comic books. Lots of them. Batman. Punisher. Spawn.
His computer setup was impressive—multiple monitors, a desktop, laptop, tablets. Games stacked nearby. Custom desk that ran the length of the wall. But no phone. No way to reach the outside world.
The front door wasn’t locked though. I checked. I would be stupid to leave after what happened.
I went back into the bedroom. Found one of his shirts and put it on. I headed to the kitchen and started pulling out ingredients. Eggs. Sugar. Butter.
I baked when I was nervous.
The front door opened sometime later.
Luciano stepped in, pulling off his suit jacket. His white shirt was soaked in blood.
My breath caught. “What happened?”
He unbuttoned the shirt, peeling it off like it was nothing. “Matteo had a brother.”
I stared. He said had a brother. “I wasn’t leaving him alive to retaliate,” he said simply. “That’s not an option.”
He pulled out a phone, dialed a number, then handed it to me without a word. “It’s for you.”
I pressed it to my ear. “Ava?!” Dewanda’s voice. Relief broke through me like lightning cracking glass. “D… I'm so glad to hear from you. Are you and Dre alright?”
“I’m with Dre right now. He’s okay. I’m putting him on a flight to California, but I’m staying.”
“No, you don’t have to—”
“I’m not letting you stay there alone. You can argue if you want. You’ll lose.”
I smiled through the lump in my throat.
“Oh—and by the way?” Dewanda’s voice turned smug. “I fucked Brooker. He’s paying for my hotel.”
“What?!”
“Stress relief. Don’t judge me, Mrs. Married to the mob.” I laughed. A real, sharp laugh. “I wasn’t.”
We talked a little more. I learned who Brooker was from her. Then she hung up, promising to see me soon.
Luciano came out of the bathroom in nothing but gym shorts slung low on his hips, chest still damp. A T-shirt slung over his shoulder. My eyes followed him without permission. He moved like something coiled. Always ready to strike. Dangerous. Hot.
My pussy perked up.
But I shut her down. Not now. Later.
I thought about what he’d done to Matteo’s brother. What he’d done for me. I thought about Aria. The way she walked into that warehouse like she couldn’t be touched. Like she was untouchable. I wanted that.
“I want you to teach me everything you know,” I said before I could second-guess it. "how to fight. How to kill. How to shut off my emotions.
He froze. “I want to be like Aria,” I added. “She’s fierce. Unafraid. Vicious.”
Luciano turned slightly. “Aria is dangerous,” he finally said.
“I know,” I said. “That’s what I admire.”
“She’s also deceitful,” he added. “You admire what she projects, not what she is.”
“What does that mean?”
“She tricked Saint into killing his own father.”
I blinked. “What?”
“And why would she do that?” I asked.
“Because Saint’s father killed hers.”
My heart slowed. My brain didn’t.
I didn’t see anything wrong with what she’s done.
I respected it. I wanted to be like her even more now. I wanted revenge too. I tucked that thought away for later, keeping it to myself.
“Even if not like Aria,” I said moving the subject away from her on purpose, “I want to be your equal. I want to be able to protect myself.Protect you if need be.”
He pulled on his clean shirt. “Being my equal means losing parts of yourself,” he said. “It means understanding how fear works. How to use it. How to kill without hesitation. How to manipulate every room you walk into. How to survive betrayal—and still smile at your enemies while planning their funeral.”
“I’m not afraid. I can do all of that.”
He stepped closer. His eyes burned into mine. “Then I’ll teach you.”