Chapter 33 Luca
LUCA
I drift in and out of consciousness. Every time I wake, I expect to see Katerina's face, to feel her hand in mine. But she’s never there.
Valentina stops by, bringing me updates about the business. Alessandro visits to discuss the future.
Even Adriano makes brief appearances.
But not Katerina.
Not the one person I need to see most.
My mind cycles through every possibility.
Is she hurt? Did the Bratva get to her again?
Is Enzo okay?
But Valentina assures me they're both fine, just giving me space to heal.
But I don’t buy it.
More likely, she’s decided just like the rest of my family had. I’m too risky to be around.
By the third day of her absence, I can't take it anymore.
The doctor wants me on bed rest for another week, but I've never been good at following orders.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, gritting my teeth against the stabbing pain in my chest.
The room spins, but I push through it. One step. Another.
The IV line pulls taut, and I yank it out without hesitation.
Pain is temporary.
Whatever's keeping Katerina away feels much more permanent.
I make it to the hallway before one of the guards spots me.
"Mr. Dante, you shouldn't be—"
"Where is Katerina?" I demand.
He looks confused. "Ms. Petrov? In her quarters, I believe."
“The cottage?” Surely, Alessandro hasn’t let her back there. Not yet.
“No sir. She and the boy have several rooms along the east wing.”
So not even in my room anymore.
That should tell me all I need to know, but I’m a glutton for punishment, so I push past him, using the wall for support.
Each step sends fire through my body, but I keep moving.
It takes fucking forever, but finally, I reach her door.
I don't knock.
I don't have the strength for courtesy.
I turn the knob and push, the door slamming open.
Katerina jumps when I enter, her eyes widening in shock. "Luca! What are you doing out of bed?" She rises as if she’s going to help me but then stops. She stays in place, keeping her distance.
"You tell me," I manage, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "You haven't been to see. Are you hoping I’ll die?"
Her eyes flash open wide again. “What? No. It’s just… you need rest. I didn't want to disturb you."
"Bullshit."
Her brow furrows in indignation. "Excuse me?"
"Something's wrong. Tell me."
"Nothing's wrong. You should go back to bed before you tear your stitches."
The clinical detachment in her voice feels like another bullet wound.
This isn't the woman that I’ve risked everything for.
Who touched me.
Who begged me not to die on the floor of Maksim’s basement.
"What happened?" I push away from the door, moving toward her despite the pain. "What changed?"
She steps back and folds her arms across her chest. "You should focus on getting better so you can get back to Chicago."
I blame pain and drugs for my slow thought process, but I’m thinking this is the source of the problem.
My returning home.
“You think I’m going to walk away from you and Enzo?”
"It's what you do, isn't it?" Her words are like ice. "You leave. That's your pattern."
The unfairness of it all hits me like a freight train. I've spent every waking moment since returning trying to make up for lost time with her and my son.
“Pattern?” I roar. “Once, I was forced away to save my and your lives. Once.”
She tenses, but her eyes are still distant. “This time, you’re going of your own accord.”
I wonder if I’m dreaming, because none of this makes sense.
“I have walked into danger twice now for you and Enzo. I could have thought you went to the compound to betray me, but no, I didn’t.
Instead, I walked into it knowing I’d probably die.
I put my body between you and a bullet. And you think what? That it was all for show?"
"Actions in the moment aren't promises for the future."
“Risking my life means nothing to you?”
“Of course, I’m grateful, but don’t pretend it means more to you.
I heard you tell your family you were leaving once you were better.
” Her eyes scan me, barely upright in front of her.
“I guess you’re well enough now.” Tears fall from her eyes, and I want to wipe them away.
I don’t because my confusion and anger hold me in place.
I’m starting to realize that she overheard enough of a conversation to misunderstand everything.
"You assumed I meant I’d be returning to Chicago without you and Enzo?" Frustration whips and snaps around me. “Christ, Katerina. After everything we've been through?"
"What was I supposed to think?" She swipes at her tears. "You didn't mention us at all."
"Because I hadn't discussed it with you yet!" I take another step toward her, ignoring the pain shooting through my chest. "I wasn't going to make plans for our future without talking to you first."
Her face hardens. "So we're an afterthought?"
“What the fucking hell!” I can’t rein in my frustration at this woman. “You're the whole point! How can you not see that?"
“How can I see it differently? You were leaving in forty-eight hours and then now, you plan to leave when you’re well. You say you wanted to talk to me about it, but you never did.”
“Gee, maybe it’s because I have a bullet hole in my chest.” I cannot fucking believe this. I work to rein in my emotions before I say or do something that totally blows us apart. "Look, I built something in Chicago. I can't just abandon it. But that doesn't mean I'm abandoning you."
“Then why not say that?”
I shake my head, wondering if something else is going on. “Look, if you don’t want me, just fucking say so. Don’t try to put this on me. Everything I’ve done since I’ve been back should be proof that I’m committed to you and Enzo. The fact that it isn’t says you don’t want me.”
“Don’t turn this—”
“But just so you know, I’ll be in Enzo’s life. So if you’re doing this to try and take him from me—”
“I’d never…” Her eyes flash with indignation. “Is that what you think of me?”
“How can I think any differently when you’re standing here suggesting I’d abandon you and Enzo despite everything I’ve done for the both of you? You’re the one running hot and cold. You ask why I didn’t talk to you about coming with me to Chicago, but how could I when you’re avoiding me?”
Her jaw tightens. "I wasn't avoiding you."
"Bullshit. Everyone came to see me. Everyone but you."
"I was giving you space to heal."
"I didn't need space from you!" My anger is getting away from me again. "I needed you there. I woke up wanting to see you and you weren’t there."
For the first time, I see doubt and maybe a little guilt in her eyes.
"What do you want from me, Katerina? I've done everything I can think of to show you how much you mean to me. I killed for you. I nearly died for you. I've been trying to be a father to Enzo. Hell, I told you I loved you. What more do you need?"
She doesn’t say anything, but I can see that a tug-of-war is playing out in her mind. Questioning her beliefs and actions. Wondering if she can trust me.
"Why didn't you just ask me?" I press on, remembering she gave me the cold shoulder before, after my call with Franco, which I know she overheard as well. "If you heard me talking about Chicago and were worried, why not come to me directly? Why shut me out?"
Katerina looks down, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Because it's easier to prepare for the worst than to hope for something better. Every time I let myself believe you might stay, I remember how it felt when you left before."
And there it is. She’s afraid of being hurt.
She’s not the only one, and I realize that I could have played this out differently but didn’t because I was afraid too.
“I’m scared too. Scared that no matter what I do, you'll always be waiting for me to disappoint you. That you'll never truly trust me again."
She looks up, meeting my eyes. "I want to trust you, Luca. I do."
"Then why do you keep pulling away?” I gently take her hand, half expecting her to yank it back. She doesn't. "We're both so afraid of being hurt that we're hurting each other anyway."
Her fingers tighten around mine, and for the first time I feel hope. "I don't want to be afraid anymore."
"Neither do I." I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "But you can’t keep assuming the worst about me."
"I know."
“What will it take to have you trust me? I love you. I love Enzo. When I return to Chicago, I want you both to come with me.”
Her head starts to shake slowly before I even finish speaking. A tiny movement, back and forth.
Denial. Rejection.
No matter what, she can’t fully trust me.
I step back, the space between us growing vast again. "After everything. After the blood I've spilled, the promises I've made, the fucking bullet I took, it's still not enough. I fought for you. I fought for us."
It’s clear that some battles can’t be won with bullets.
That some wounds never heal.
I’ve lost her again… or maybe, I never really had her back.