Chapter 31 Luca #2
"Stop," I say it more firmly this time, and she actually does, her mouth snapping shut mid-sentence as she stares at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Just—stop for a minute and let me talk. Please."
She nods, her hand trembling in mine, and I take a moment to gather my thoughts and figure out how to articulate everything I've been feeling without making this worse than it already is.
"I'm not going to pretend what you did was okay," I say finally, and I watch her face crumple slightly at the words.
"Because it wasn't. You lied to me. You created an entire false identity and used it to manipulate me into a relationship I wouldn't have pursued if I'd known who you really were.
You took away my ability to make a choice about who I was sleeping with, who I was falling in love with.
That's not something I can just forget or dismiss as unimportant. "
"I know," she whispers, and fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "I know, and I'm—"
"But," I continue, cutting off what I know will be another apology, "I also can't pretend that I don't love you. Because I do. I'm in love with you, Giulia. I have been for years, since you came back from boarding school. I can't remember what it felt like not to want you."
The shock on her face would be almost comical if the situation weren't so serious. Her mouth opens and closes without sound, and I can see her trying to process what I just said, trying to reconcile it with everything I've put her through over the past weeks.
"You—what?" The word comes out barely audible, her eyes wide with shock. "You love me?"
"Yes." The admission feels like stepping off a cliff. It’s both utterly terrifying… and feels liberating. Whatever happens now, at least we’re both being honest with ourselves and each other.
"I love you. I've loved you through all of this.
I loved you when I was trying desperately not to.
I loved you even when I hated you, even when I was so angry I could barely stand to be in the same room with you. "
She's staring at me like I've just told her the sky is green. “I don’t understand,” she whispers. “You… before… you hardly spoke to me. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. I—”
“Do you remember the first dinner where Dante introduced possible husbands? When you met Alessandro, Marco, and Enzo?”
"I remember." Her voice is small and uncertain.
“I couldn’t stop watching you that night.
I saw the way you smiled at them, even though I could see you hated every second of it.
And I hated watching Alessandro touch your hand, and Marco lean too close, fucking seeing Enzo look at you like he was already imagining what he'd do to you once you were his. "
The memory makes my jaw clench, that old anger flaring up hotly despite everything that's happened since.
"It killed me every dinner party, sitting there watching other men court you, knowing that one of them was going to marry you and take you away—" I can't finish the sentence. I can’t properly articulate the depth of possessive rage I felt that night and all the nights after.
"I wanted to kill all of them. Wanted to put bullets in their heads and make sure none of them ever touched you again.
And I knew—I knew that reaction was insane, that I had no right to feel that way about you, that you were Romeo's sister and Dante's daughter and completely off-limits to someone like me.
You were supposed to marry someone important, someone who could bring your family alliances, power, and legitimacy.
Not the guy who breaks bones for a living and has killed more people than he can count. "
"I never wanted any of those men," she says fiercely. The intensity in her voice feels forceful, like a physical presence between us. "I never wanted Marco or Enzo or even Alessandro before I knew what he really was. I only ever wanted you."
"I know that now." I shake my head. "But at the time, all I knew was that I was in love with someone I could never have, and it was destroying me from the inside out.
So when I heard about the club, I thought maybe it would help.
Maybe if I could find someone else, someone who wasn't you, I could finally get you out of my system. "
Understanding is dawning on her face now, and I can see her putting the pieces together, understanding the full scope of what I'm confessing. "That's why you were there. At the club. You were trying to forget about me."
"Yes." I let out a breath. "I was trying to find someone, anyone, who could make me feel something other than this constant, grinding need for you.
And then Valentina walked in, and—" I pause, trying to figure out how to explain what happened next without making it sound like an accusation.
"She was everything I'd been looking for.
And for the first time in years, I felt like maybe I could have something I actually wanted instead of just enduring what I couldn't change. "
Tears roll down Giulia’s cheeks as I keep speaking, but she doesn’t try to interrupt me this time.
"I fell in love with her," I continue, and I see her flinch at the words.
"She made me feel wanted. I felt like I was losing my mind with how good it was, with how I was getting so caught up in it, and I was guilty over wanting someone other than you.
I felt fucking awful over it, and then I found out Valentina was you.
And it wasn't just the betrayal that destroyed me, Giulia.
It wasn't just the anger at being lied to or manipulated.
It was the realization that the two women I'd fallen in love with—the one I could never have and the one who made me feel alive—were the same person.
That I'd been so blind, so desperate to keep you separate in my mind, that I couldn't see what should have been obvious from the beginning. That I’d been tearing myself up over loving two women when it was only ever one.
I felt like such a fucking idiot, and I hated being put through so much over a lie. "
"I'm sorry," she whispers. The words are so full of genuine remorse that I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms despite the pain it would cause.
"I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that.
I just—I didn't know how else to be with you.
I didn't know how to make you see me as someone you could want instead of just Romeo's little sister. "
"I know. I know why you did it now. I understand the trap you were in, the way your entire life was being controlled.
I understand that creating Valentina was your act of rebellion.
And I—" I take a slow breath. "I've been cruel to you because of it.
I've deliberately made our marriage miserable to punish you for what you did.
I was angry and hurt and didn't know how else to deal with what I was feeling. "
"You had every right to be angry," she whispers. There's no accusation in her voice, just weary acceptance. "I hurt you. I betrayed your trust. Everything you did was—"
"Wrong." I cut her off before she can finish that sentence.
"Everything I did was wrong, Giulia. Yes, you hurt me.
Yes, you betrayed my trust. But that didn't give me the right to make you suffer for it, or treat you like you were nothing more than an obligation I resented. We both made mistakes. We both hurt each other. The question is whether we can move forward from here.”
Her eyes widen, and I see a flicker of hope and fear cross her face.
It makes my chest ache. "Can we?" Her voice is so uncertain that I want to promise her everything will be okay, even though I'm not sure that's a promise I can keep.
"Can you forgive me? Can you—can you ever trust me again after what I did? "
"I don't know. I want to. I want to forgive you and move past this and build the kind of marriage we both deserve.
But trust isn't something that just comes back because we want it to.
It's something we're going to have to rebuild, and that's going to take time and effort and—and probably a lot of difficult conversations like this one. "
"I'll do whatever it takes." She says it so quickly that it takes me a second to catch up, hope flooding her expression. "I'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me, that I'll never lie to you again, that—"
"I know you will." I squeeze her hand. "But this is about both of us learning how to be honest with each other, how to communicate without all the bullshit we've been hiding behind. We’re both going to have to figure it out.”
“I…” Giulia looks as if she’s going to burst into tears again. “I want that, Luca. I want to figure it out with you. And I’m sorry I went about all of this the wrong way. I’m sorry I…”
“I know. I don’t fully know what it was like for you. And I get why. We just have to work past what that caused.”
Giulia swallows hard, her thumb tracing my knuckles where our hands are linked together.
“I felt suffocated all the time,” she whispers.
"From the time I was old enough to understand what my father did, what our family was, I knew my life wasn't really mine.
Every choice was made for me—where I went to school, what I studied, who I was allowed to spend time with.
Even going to boarding school was just another way to control me—polish me into the perfect mafia wife, someone who could host dinner parties and speak multiple languages and look beautiful on some powerful man's arm. "