23. Luca
TWENTY-THREE
LUCA
I went home with Dominic and crashed hard.
I still managed to wake up before him. I’d almost stayed in bed, but I couldn’t stop tossing, so I went to the couch, where I slept for another hour or so.
When I woke up, my side throbbed where the knife wound was almost healed. It still twinged every time I moved too fast. I’d been careful not to let Dominic see how much it still hurt. The last thing I needed was him fussing over me.
I glanced around in the morning light. My place didn’t look like a disaster anymore. The stack of old takeout menus that cluttered the counter? Gone. The pile of shoes by the door? Lined up neat as a soldier’s locker. Even the bookshelf—when had that gotten organized? He’d cleaned the coffee table. My gym bag now hung neatly by the door. The place looked…good. Like someone who cared about this space lived here. Not like me, who barely survived in it.
The smell of bacon wafted toward me.
I wandered into the kitchen. Dominic stood at the stove. My sweatpants clung to his hips. The waistband dipped just enough to tease, showing off the sharp cut of his v-line. The fluttering in my stomach twisted into something heavier. The same guy who bossed me around played house in my kitchen like a domestic dream, wearing my clothes.
A warm glow flowed through me.
Dominic glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”
“You’re wearing my sweatpants.”
He turned back to the stove. “They’re comfy.”
“ They’re mine. ”
“And I wear them better.” He flipped a strip of bacon. “Would you rather I cooked naked?”
The way the fabric hung on his hips killed me. It hugged the curve of his ass. It was cruel. My bare feet didn’t make a sound as I stopped behind him. My hand twitched, itching to touch him, but I didn’t.
Why did he make me feel like this?
He glanced at me. “Keep hovering like that, and I’ll think you enjoy having me around.”
“I do like seeing my boss slave away in the kitchen.”
“I’m not sure flipping bacon counts.”
I shrugged. “You’re doing all the work while I stand here.”
“You’re right,” he said, his voice dropping. “Maybe it’s time you pulled your weight.”
“How’s that?”
Dominic turned around and kissed me. Hard. His hand slid up to grip the back of my neck, crushing his mouth against mine.
I melted into him, my other hand sliding up his chest. The warmth of his skin burned through his T-shirt. My heart pounded as his teeth grazed my bottom lip.
A burning smell snapped me out of it.
Dominic pulled away, facing the stove. He yanked the pan off the heat. Smoke curled up from the blackened bacon.
“Nice work, Chef,” I muttered. “Not much of a multitasker, huh?”
“Keep talking, and you’ll make your own damn breakfast.”
“You were doing fine until I got involved. Can’t handle the heat?”
The fire alarm shrieked. The ear-piercing wail filled the kitchen, and I flinched. Dominic dragged a chair over, climbing up to yank the battery out of the smoke detector. The screeching stopped. He hopped down, his hair slightly mussed.
Dominic grabbed a plate, scraping the charred bacon onto it. “If you’re going to stand there and tease me, next breakfast is on you.”
“I can only cook Russian food.”
He shrugged. “Vodka and despair?”
“Borscht, pelmeni, beef stroganoff.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Pelmeni?”
“Dumplings,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “Little pockets of meat and spices. Best when they’re hot, with a dollop of sour cream.”
I could almost see the long dining table at the Pakhan’s house, crowded with steaming plates. The warmth of the kitchen, the laughter and the clinking of shot glasses. It wasn’t always bad. There had been good times. The nights when babulia would make her special blinis, and we’d sit around eating until we were stuffed.
Delilah used to tease me about how many I could eat. We’d sneak out during those big parties and get shit-faced on vodka. I held on to those moments, even now.
“I used to eat them with Delilah. Santino’s wife. She’d always put too much sour cream and try to convince me it was the best way to eat them.”
She’d invited me to dinner at her and Santino’s house, but the thought of sitting at her table made my stomach knot. I couldn’t be around Delilah. She brought it all back—bantering in Russian, laughing about old jokes, like we were still in that cage together.
I still hadn’t responded to her text from a few days ago.
Delilah didn’t deserve that. She was one of the few people who made my captivity bearable. I pictured her pouring me a drink, asking how I was holding up. I’d lie, because what else would I say? Every time I looked at her, I remembered how I didn’t protect her in Providence.
“So, when are you making them for me?”
I blinked. “Make what?”
“The dumplings. Pelmeni , ” he said, his awful pronunciation endearing. “You gave me a whole sales pitch about how good they are. Now I want to try them.”
I snorted. “I’m not making you dumplings.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’d complain about the sour cream.”
His smirk deepened. “Maybe I like sour cream.”
“No, you like pretending you’re too good for it,” I shot back, folding my arms over my chest. “You’d take one bite and ask for steak instead.”
“You really think I’m that predictable?”
“I know you are.”
Dominic smiled. “I think you’re scared I’ll like them too much and start showing up at your door demanding Russian food.”
I rolled my eyes, but my chest felt tight.
“I’m serious. Make them for me.”
“You don’t just whip up pelmeni out of nowhere. It takes time. Effort.”
“And you’re saying I’m not worth the effort?” he asked.
His clipped tone caught me off guard.
Hell no .
That’s what I should’ve said, but my throat closed up. Dominic wasn’t teasing anymore. He wouldn’t take it well if I brushed him off. He’d probably walk out the front door and never come back. I didn’t want that.
With him around, I didn’t feel like a sinking ship. His energy pulled me up, even when I didn’t want it. His calm voice cut through the noise in my head. He didn’t crowd me unless I needed it, but he was always there . Like an anchor.
He’d made himself a part of my life without asking, like he’d known I wouldn’t have let him in otherwise. And now the place was cleaner, brighter, like his presence bled into the walls and made the whole place feel… safe.
But that safety was a lie.
I didn’t deserve him. Not his calm voice, his patience, or the way he kissed me like I was worth being held. This wouldn’t last. Dominic didn’t know the mess he’d walked into.
Dominic’s bare foot tapped mine. “I’m waiting for a response.”
I sighed. “I’ll make them, but only if you shut up about it.”
His grin returned. “Deal.”
“They’re a lot of work. Are you sure you’ll eat them?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Luca, I’ll eat them.”
“It’s just…you don’t seem like a dumplings kind of guy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re too refined.” Heat crept up my neck as Dominic’s face split with a wide grin. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Tell me more about how sophisticated I am.”
“I’ve been to your place,” I grunted, grabbing a strip of bacon. “I could tell you were high maintenance as soon as I stepped inside.”
“You said refined .”
“One compliment doesn’t mean I’m writing you a glowing review.” I waved a hand toward the stove. “You burned half the bacon.”
“You’re still eating it.”
That smug grin made me want to hurl a plate at him.
“Is that what you tell yourself when you screw up?” I shot back.
“That’s what I tell myself when I’m cooking for someone who’d be happy with canned soup.” He winked at me, brushing past me to load a plate with eggs, bacon, and toast. He handed it to me. “Eat up.”
I took it and sat down at the table, and Dominic joined me.
He dug into his eggs. “Are you planning on spending the night in bed with me? Or are you going to keep sneaking out like I’m a one-night stand?”
My stomach twisted. “I sleep better alone.”
“Don’t you get sick of lying to yourself?”
I sighed. “Maybe I like my space.”
“Maybe you’re scared.”
I clenched my jaw. “Can’t you give me a break?”
“This isn’t about you,” he said, stabbing into his eggs. “I don’t like it. When I wake up and the bed’s empty, it pisses me off.”
I hesitated. “I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Of course I do. I’ve had enough people disappear on me without warning. I don’t need it happening in my own bed.”
My chest ached. “I didn’t disappear. I was on the couch.”
“That’s not the point.” He set the fork down, staring at me. “It reminds me of someone.”
I bristled. “Frank?”
“Yeah. We were together for a year.”
An entire year? I swallowed my rage down. “What happened?”
“We kept it a secret because he couldn’t come out. I put up with it, even though it really bothered me. One night, he left in the middle of the night,” Dominic muttered, his gaze dropping to the table. “I woke up, and he was gone.”
I froze, the fork halfway to my mouth.
“The next day, I found out he was engaged. To a woman.”
My grip on the fork tightened. “Seriously?”
His lips twisted. “A week later, they had a big engagement party. I wasn’t invited, of course, but I heard all about it. Blonde, sweet, exactly the kind of girl his family would approve of.”
“Did he ever explain himself?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. “He called me once. Weeks later. Said I was fun, but he had to move on with his life. Then he asked me to keep quiet about us.”
My blood boiled. I’ll kill him .
“He has kids now. Two of them. A boy and a girl. I don’t care anymore. It’s water under the bridge.”
The thought of that bastard walking around, pretending to be a family man while lusting after Dominic, made me want to burn his whole life to the ground.
Dominic leaned back in his chair. “I bump into him all the time at work. He still drops hints that he’d fuck me behind his wife’s back.”
That piece of shit. “I thought I made it clear to that scumbag you were off-limits.”
“Frank doesn’t take hints. He’s like a dog with a bone.”
“So, he’s going to keep hanging around, waiting for you to give him the time of day?”
“Luca, I don’t need you fighting my battles.”
I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t trying to.”
“Frank’s my problem, not yours. Stay away from him.”
My jaw tightened. “Why?”
“Because he’s a floor supervisor, Luca. He’s good at what he does, and I need him.”
“You need him?”
“I need his skills,” Dominic said sharply. “He’s been doing this for years. He knows the whole operation. Replacing him would be a headache I don’t need right now.”
I scowled. “You’re going to let him hang around, drooling over you like a creep?”
“Frank doesn’t have power over me. He’s stuck in a marriage he doesn’t even want. That’s punishment enough.”
Imagining Frank lurking around Dominic made my stomach churn. “He gets to see you every day and act like nothing happened.”
“Let him rot in the life he built for himself.”
I shook my head. “You’re too fucking forgiving.”
“I’m not forgiving him. I’m letting him destroy himself.”
“I don’t get it,” I growled. “Why let him in your life at all?”
“Because I refuse to let him define me. Frank’s a reminder of what I don’t want to be like.”
I blinked. “You’re nothing like him.”
Dominic’s gaze locked with mine. “All it takes is one moment of cowardice, and you end up like Frank. Living a life you hate, clinging to scraps of happiness in all the wrong places.”
“You’re stronger than that.”
“I’m trying to be, but…I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
The ache in his voice twisted in my chest. Dominic, admitting he needed more? Dominic was untouchable, the golden boy with his perfect suits, razor-sharp comebacks, and an infuriating amount of confidence.
“You’re not alone,” I blurted. “You have me.”
“For how long? Until you run off again?”
Shit .
All those mornings I’d slipped out, thinking he’d roll his eyes and move on. Like it wouldn’t hurt him. I didn’t want to be anything like Frank.
“I’m not trying to push you away.”
“You’re here, but you’re not,” Dominic said quietly. “You let me in to keep me close, but never enough to hold on. Sound familiar?”
My chest tightened. “Dom.”
“I don’t need grand gestures. I need you to stay.”
Slowly, I reached out and took his hand, my fingers curling around his. He stiffened, but didn’t pull away.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m not him, okay? I don’t treat people like that.”
Dominic’s smile twisted. “Yeah? Prove it.”
I blinked. “What?”
His fingers slid to the back of my hair and tugged. “Show me you’re not like him.”