19. Samara
Chapter nineteen
Samara
Thursday, July 16, 2026
M y heart feels heavy after my final day in court with Sierra.
The judge afforded her custody two days out of each week, with the possibility for additional time spent with her son after she can supply proof of a stable and sufficient income and a home to match.
Every time I have an outcome like this, it brings up the errant feelings I still struggle with surrounding Cora. I don’t love the idea of my clients having to be around their abusers, even if they weren’t physically abused. Emotional abuse is just as bad, if not worse, to some because, without the physical evidence, it can be extremely difficult for victims to realize they’re being abused and have the strength to seek help.
The emotions swarming inside me from Sierra’s case are so different from how I felt earlier this week after Luca’s hearing.
After we left the courthouse on Monday, I was dazed and confused, to say the least.
I’ve spoken to Luca a handful of times since then, getting paperwork together and finalizing his agreement with the mother of his child. It’ll be a few weeks before everything is completely settled from a legal perspective, but she’s already started at an inpatient psychiatric hospital, where she’ll have access to medication, group therapy, and one-on-one counseling until she feels ready to transition to an outpatient setting.
I should be happy that this went so well for my client, but mostly, I’m confused.
And while confusion is definitely at the top of the list of emotions I’ve been battling with in regard to Luca and Gia, it certainly isn’t the only one.
I’m in disbelief that Luca was even able to recognize what Cecily was going through, let alone act on his intuition in front of a room full of people actively making judgments about him.
And I was one of them.
I’m annoyed that he’s somehow managed to weasel his way into my mind in every spare moment I have.
There’s also a sense of unease filling my gut that makes me worry I might be losing my touch. Maybe I’m not as good at reading people as I used to be? Maybe I’ve become cynical after so many terrible experiences for myself, my friends, and my clients?
And then there’s the anguish I felt for Cecily, and frankly, still do. I feel crushed for her and every other woman who has to battle it out with so many changes and the stress that comes with pregnancy only to be thrown for another loop after delivery.
Postpartum depression is a hell of a thing to go through for anyone, but especially when the pregnancy was a surprise. I’m frustrated that she didn’t tell Luca that she was pregnant, but I can also sympathize with the fact that she was likely overwhelmed and probably thinking a lot of what I was when I first met him.
That there was no way he would change his ways for that child.
And then there’s the unsteady feeling surrounding why I can’t seem to stop thinking about him in the first place.
It’s clear that there’s more than meets the eye with Luca, and even that irritates me.
“Ah, come on,” I grumble, making the decision I’ve been dwelling on for hours now.
I’ll just drive over there, make sure he’s adjusting fine, and then I’ll leave. It’s nothing more than a professional visit from his lawyer to ensure everything is going well for my client.
That is all this is.
Christ, I hope that’s all this is.
Hopping in the Range Rover, I set up my Bluetooth and start up my favorite playlist for when I’m feeling out of it. 1
I pull out onto the road and head toward the last person on the planet who I thought I’d be willingly seeking out.
***
My hands are practically shaking as I head toward his front door. Why the fuck am I here again?
I banish the thought as soon as it pops into my head. I probably won’t like the answer to that question.
Knocking gently, I stand here unmoving, staring at the dark-blue door before me as I contemplate all of my life decisions up to this point.
Why am I here?
I should leave. Besides, I probably didn’t knock hard enough for anyone to hear me.
Yep, no one would’ve heard me. I’ll turn around, get in my car, and save myself from this awkward-ass conversation.
Just as I’m finally ungluing my feet from the ground, his door bursts open.
A cloud of cool air rushes out of his house, and a woman who I recognize to be Luca’s mother smiles up at me from the doorway. She’s seated in a purple electric wheelchair with rhinestone flames emblazoned on the sides.
Well, you can’t say she isn’t making the most of her condition.
“Hello, can I help you?” she asks politely, her lips turned up in a small grin.
That’s when I realize I’ve been staring at her, unblinking, unmoving, and unspeaking. This was a horrendous idea.
“Oh, sorry, I’m Samara. I’m Luca’s attorney. I wanted to stop by and check in on him and Gia,” I stammer, trying to explain my presence, but as the words leave my mouth, I’m nearly certain they do nothing to make her believe this would be considered typical behavior for an attorney.
One light brow quirks as she appraises me. The breath finally leaves my lungs as she wheels herself backward, opening the door wide for me to enter.
“Come on in, Samara. Luca should be out of the shower soon.”
I nod, following after her and closing the door behind me. It takes some time to get my bearings because, like every other time I’ve been near him, Luca De Laurentiis surprises me at every turn.
I expected a bachelor pad with a few children’s items lying around, but that’s not what I see inside the single-story home I’m currently standing in.
His home has a very masculine quality, but it’s tastefully decorated and cozy.
There’s a mix of light and dark-blue accents that bring a certain calm to the space, and it’s exceptionally clean. Like, impeccably so.
The smell of freshly baked cookies wafts up my nose, and damn, I could go for a chocolate chip cookie right now.
The kitchen counter is lined with baby bottles, and there’s a myriad of toys, blankets, and other children’s items, but everything seems to have its place.
“I’m Gloria, by the way. Go ahead and take a seat.” She waves at the large gray sectional couch positioned in the living room.
“Thank you. I didn’t mean to intrude,” I say, now that some of my nerves have settled. “Things hadn’t gone according to plan, so I figured I should make sure my client is doing well.” I pray she doesn’t hear the lie.
She chuckles, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth in an effort to muffle the sound as she peers up at me. “Mhmm, I’m sure you make house calls like this for all of your clients,“ she says suggestively. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
I don’t bother responding to her because it’s clear that she’s aware this isn’t typical, and saying anything else is likely to dig the hole deeper.
So, instead, I take a seat, positioning myself toward the television. She turns it on, and of course, a pre-recorded hockey game is playing.
But it’s not just any game; it’s an old Philly Scarlets game.
Luca’s face comes into view, and the camera zooms in on it. Even with his headgear and mouthguard, you can tell he’s gorgeous.
His eyes glimmer as he waves to his fans from the ice, and it takes everything in me to peel my gaze away from the screen and turn my attention to Gloria.
She smirks at me and asks, “Do you read?”
My cheeks heat at that, and not for the first time, I’m glad my brown skin doesn’t give away my blush as easily as it would for someone more fair-skinned.
“I do,” I tell her, not wanting to provide any additional detail.
“What kind of books do you read?” she asks, and I shift in my seat as nerves dance in my belly.
I clear my throat. “Oh, you know, romance.”
Her smirk grows wider. “Any chance you read smut?”
My eyes widen as I choke on my own saliva, sputtering as she claps me firmly on the back from her seat beside the couch, making the coughing even worse as she does.
“You okay, dear? I didn’t mean to choke you,” she chortles.
“I’m fine,” I say with a half-hearted laugh.
“I take it you do read smut,“ she says with glee. “I have a book club I’ve lovingly named ‘Always Smutty In Philadelphia.’ We even have our own T-shirts, personalized wine glasses, and a whole line of merch!” Her tone becomes higher with every word as excitement flows through her.
My brows pinch in confusion for a moment as I take that in. “That’s”—I pause—“well, hell.” I chuckle. “That’s actually pretty cool.” A smile tugs at the corners of my lips.
It appears Luca isn’t the only one in this family whose personality holds more than meets the eye.
“You should come! We usually have it the last Saturday of each month, but with everything going on last month, we pushed it to this weekend. I’ll have Luca text you the address,” she tells me, making it clear there was not a single question in her comment. She wasn’t asking me to come; she was making a request.
Before I can argue, Luca walks out of the room adjacent to the living area wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats as he holds Gia tightly to his bare chest.
My ovaries do a little dance that causes me to shift in my seat again, and I can’t help but suck in a breath.
For the love of god.
“Samara?” he asks, his dark brows drawn tightly together as he takes me in. “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t sound upset, more like concerned.
I guess if I were in his position, my lawyer’s presence would cause some unease for me too.
“I was in the area and figured I’d stop by to check on you and Gia. It isn’t often…” I chuckle. “Or ever, actually, that a custody battle ends the way it did with you, so I thought it’d be good to stop by and check in.” I stand abruptly, doing my best to ignore the expression on Gloria’s face. I have a sneaking suspicion her kids never got away with a single thing in their lives, at least without her intentionally allowing it to happen. “And now that I have, it seems you’re doing just fine, so I’ll get out of your hair,” I say, clapping my clammy hands against my thighs.
I do my best to rush to the door but trip on something in front of Gloria.
Did she just trip me?
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” she asks me, not sounding the least bit concerned.
I don’t miss the way Luca rolls his eyes at her as I pick myself off the ground before he can try to help me up. Unfortunately for my pride, I’m too damn slow.
He reaches down, holding Gia firmly to his chest with one arm as he leans and winds his free arm around me, hoisting me up off the floor.
Luca doesn’t let go of me until I’m firmly situated in front of him. “Thanks,” I grumble.
He grins, shaking his head lightly at my response.
“Anytime, Samara.” His bright eyes roam over my body slowly, leaving a lick of heat in their wake. I need to get the hell out of here.
I nod, but there’s an annoying swarm of butterflies flooding my stomach that does nothing but distract me. “Well, it was nice to see you again, Luca, and nice meeting you, Gloria,” I tell them, keeping my eyes cast downward as I try for the second time to make my exit. Hoping for a more graceful and successful departure this time.
“It was nice meeting you too!” She waves at me. “I’m excited to see you Saturday; we start at six!”
Before I can even get a response out, Luca’s eyes cut to mine. “Saturday?” he asks his mother but keeps his eyes trained on me.
“Samara will be joining us for book club,” she explains as if I had already agreed.
His brows pinch together. “You will?” His next question has me plastering a cool expression on my face before leaving the house. “Who would’ve thought?” he clucks. “You read those nasty books too, huh?”
I huff, rolling my eyes at him as his smirk grows. “Goodbye, Luca,” I say as I finally get out of this house.
1. Wonder Woman — John Legend