Epilogue Luca
EPILOGUE: LUCA
My dorm room feels so much quieter and calmer than usual. The hum of Valmont campus and the wider city outside seems muted in comparison to how it sounded all those months ago. I suppose our family drama is larger than most others, so Montcove would have been affected and can now relax along with us now that it’s all over. After months of running, fighting, constant stress, and the endless strings of impossible decisions, it feels like I can finally breathe again.
The Rossis and the Valentis have reached some fragile peace. It’s not perfect. Nothing ever is. But it’s stable, and for now, that’s enough.
I stretch my legs out on the bed, rubbing my hands over my face as I lean back against the pillows. I leave my phone face down on the nightstand, no longer having to worry about any intense calls or threatening messages. It’s been a while since I could just set it aside, take a breath, and enjoy the stillness.
I glance down at my watch, feeling the cold touch of the metal band. I’m still not used to the feeling yet; it’s very different from my old leather-strapped one, but it was a gift from Sofia that she got me a few weeks ago for my birthday. It’s almost identical to the one that Dominic has, so now we have a matching set. I have to hand it to her. It’s a pretty great gift, and it was completely unexpected. Getting a birthday present from Sofia Rossi was something I had never expected, let alone her getting me a matching watch as her son’s.
That’s just how things work now. Sofia’s a part of my life. She’s family. The Valentis and Rossis are a part of one larger family now, and we’re connected in more than just one way .
The door creaks open, and Dominic steps in, a little out of breath, his expression soft. He holds a small bunch of flowers in one hand, a surprising and questionable thing for him to have.
“Hey,” he says, dropping his bag by the door and glancing at the flowers like he’s unsure what to do with them now. “I thought I’d get you something... I don’t know. Just... 'cause.”
I sit up and raise an eyebrow, my lips tugging into a smirk. "You didn’t have to do that. What are you apologizing for?”
Rolling his eyes at me, he doesn’t back down. “Come on, I haven’t done anything bad. I just... I wanted to do something nice. And I wasn’t too far from the store, so...” He pauses. “It’s not weird, right?”
I shake my head, my smile lingering. “It’s not weird. It’s actually really sweet of you, babe.”
Dominic smiles at me and tries to shake off his endearing embarrassment with a joke. “You better not start expecting things like this every time I come over here.”
“Dom, you practically live here now. Would you rather I charge you rent?” I bat back at him. “Put them to the side for now,” I tell him, patting the empty space beside me on the bed. “Come here. I’m not going anywhere for a while. Let’s just relax.”
He takes a second before walking over and setting the flowers down on the nightstand, then slides in next to me. His body presses up against mine, warm and familiar, and for a moment, it feels like everything is normal. I breathe in the scent of him, smelling faint traces of soap, cologne, and whatever lingering scent of coffee or sweat still clings to him.
Lying here, side by side, neither of us are in a hurry to speak. There’s something peaceful about it. We’ve both been running for so long—running from our families, running from the inevitable. From the danger, from the expectations. Even running from each other for a while But in these quiet moments, it feels like we’ve carved out something just for ourselves.
“How was your day?” he asks after a while, breaking the silence. I turn my head to look at him, studying his face. His expression is relaxed, his eyes soft. For once, he looks content .
“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad,” I say. “My dad’s taking me out later for a dinner slash meeting thing. He wants my opinion on a couple of things, so just going out to have a chat and a fancy meal.”
“That’s really great. You’ve definitely earned it.” “Thanks. How was yours?” “Good,” he says, his voice a little lazy from the long day. “Actually, really good. I got my test back from the other week.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I got a solid B plus.”
He smiles, really proud of himself, and I smile along with him. For so long, Dominic has never really tried when it came to academics, instead prioritizing partying and misbehaving in some self-destructive coping mechanism mixed with senseless acts of rebellion. “That’s amazing! I’m really proud of you, Dom.”
He shrugs, glancing at me sideways. “It’s not that hard when I’m not busy running around trying to save your ass all the time.”
I laugh, the sound warm and familiar between us. “I think you secretly like it. You’re addicted to drama. I’m just your pretty little excuse. ”
He grins, his expression mischievous. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
We both fall into another stretch of quiet, this time more comfortable, more natural. Turning over in the cozily intimate bed, I look over to him beside me. My gaze drifts down to Dominic’s cheek, and I study the scar that’s been there for as long as I can remember. Long before his midnight fight in the college gym, far older and more faded than the ones we gained from our encounter with the Grecos. Still, it manages to be the most prominent mark on his face.
I’ve never asked about it or speculated about it out loud before. It’s a long, faint line that cuts across his jaw, near his cheekbone. By now, surely we’re at a place together where I can ask him about it and finally ease my curiosity.
“Dom,” I start, my voice a little quieter than before. “That scar on your cheek. I’ve always wondered, how did you get it?”
He hesitates as if the question catches him off guard. Then he sighs and looks over at me, his lips curling into a half-smile. “Oh, that? You really want to know?”
I nod, curiosity getting the best of me. “ Yeah. It’s been bugging me ever since I noticed it.”
“It’s honestly not that good of a story,” he says, trying to shake off the conversation but only making me even more interested.
“Come on,” I urge him.
He stares at the ceiling for a long moment, sighs, and then shifts on the bed so he’s facing me. “I was maybe five or six,” he begins, his voice softer now, almost a little embarrassed. “I was running around the house, being an idiot. You know how kids are. I was always crashing into shit. Well, this time, I ran right into the side table. Smacked my face straight into it. It split my cheek wide open. I remember there being blood, tears, and screaming. I ended up having to get it stitched up.”
I can’t help but burst out into laughter. The image of Dominic, young and clumsy, running into furniture like a disaster waiting to happen cracks me up.
He groans, embarrassed now. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It was embarrassing.”
“Sorry,” I manage to say between my laughs. “I just... I thought of how you’ve been marching around the place, being all tough and showing off your cool scar, and this whole time it was because of a table. God, Dom. I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”
He rolls his eyes and tries to turn away, clearly not thrilled with my reaction. But I can’t stop.
“We need to be more careful. You’ve been staying here a lot,” I tease. “Maybe I should baby-proof the place.”
That earns me a hard shove, though he’s smiling. “Yeah, sure, I don’t need more scars. I’ve got enough.”
But I’m not ready to drop it. “How many of those scars do you have stories for, Dom?” I ask, glancing at the rest of his body, already having seen the marks on his arms, chest, legs, and back. Each one has its own tale of bad decisions, reckless abandon, or just plain misfortune.
He sighs, clearly realizing I’m not going to let it go. “You wouldn’t believe half of them. Fights, crashes, and, well, some of them are just...dumb.”
I lean over and kiss him, cutting off his rambling. I kiss him deeply, feeling the warmth of his mouth against mine, the rush of his breath, the spark of everything between us. He responds instantly, his hands going to my sides, pulling me closer. He rolls on top of me, his weight comforting and familiar.
The room fades away. The quiet, the city, the scars, the stories—all of it fades. Just for tonight, it’s just us. And that’s enough.
The last thing I hear before everything else slips into the background is Dominic’s voice, low and teasing in my ear. “I’ll make sure my next scar has a good story behind it.”
I laugh, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room, and for once, I feel like the past is finally behind me.
We’re finally just Luca and Dominic. And it’s enough.