Chapter 3 Luca
Luca
Luca didn’t like surprises, and tonight had delivered one wrapped in dark hair, defiance, with a death wish.
He stood in the shadowed corner of the upper hallway, his arms crossed over his broad chest, as he watched the closed office door, like it might explode at any second.
He was alone with her—Isabella Romano, before he forced her to leave.
He was a fool for letting her go before hearing her out.
If Romano was missing, he needed more details, and Isabella was the one who could give them to him.
Her name even tasted wrong every time he said it out loud.
She seemed familiar in a way Luca didn’t trust. He rolled his neck slowly as the tension coiled tight through his shoulders.
Every instinct he had—every scar-earned lesson—told him this situation was off.
Women didn’t just walk into Luca’s world and demand answers.
Women didn’t say his name as if doing so wouldn’t come with consequences.
And they sure as hell didn’t walk out afterward.
His office door opened, and Luca’s attention seemed to snap back into focus. The man he had sent to escort her back to his office stepped in first, his expression carefully blank. Then Isabella followed him in. She was alive and unharmed, and that alone was enough to put Luca on edge.
Her chin was still lifted, her spine straight, but there was something different about her now—something tighter beneath the surface. It was like she’d just stood too close to a fire and hadn’t decided yet if she’d been burned or marked by the flames. He hated that he found her so interesting.
Luca pushed off the wall, and their eyes met for a brief second.
Hers were lighter than he expected from the way that his guys had described her.
When she was first in his office, he only noticed the storm in her eyes, not the color of them.
But they were sharp, observant, and didn’t seem scared of him, and that was a problem.
Most people in this building either feared Luca or pretended they didn’t.
But this girl was different. She looked like she was trying to understand him, and that was far worse than her not being afraid of him.
“She wasn’t very cooperative,” the guard muttered.
Luca didn’t answer. His gaze stayed locked on Isabella, and she didn’t look away.
That earned her something close to respect.
Or maybe it was concern, because she’d never live very long in his world if she didn’t have a little fear of him and his family.
“Thank you,” he said to his guard, “I’ve got it from here.
” His guy turned to leave, and so did Isabella.
He stepped directly into her path before she could reach the stairs.
She was at least smart enough to stop, but she didn’t seem startled.
“Isabella,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel dragged across steel.
Up close, he could see the details about her better. The faint tension in her jaw and the controlled way she held herself together. But underneath all of that, he could see it—she was scared. But she was hiding it well, and that made her dangerous.
“Luca,” she replied. His brow lifted slightly.
“Why am I back in your office?” she asked.
“I thought that we already said our peace.” They had, but as soon as she left his office, he got a phone call warning him that if she left his club, she wouldn’t live to see morning.
He had a sick feeling that the threat had everything to do with her father and the reason for her visit to his club.
Marrying Isabella was the only way to make peace in his city, and that was all that mattered to him right now.
A slow, humorless smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You said your peace when you accused me of committing some malice towards your father. But you didn’t give much explanation. What happened to your father?” he asked.
“So, you suddenly care about my father?” she spat.
“Careful,” he said. “Talking to me that way will end up getting you killed, sweetheart.”
“Funny,” she shot back. “That’s exactly what I expected you to say.” Yeah, she had teeth. Luca studied her for a long moment, his gaze heavy and calculating.
“Whatever you think you’re doing,” he said finally, “it’s not worth it.”
Her expression didn’t change. “You don’t know what I’m doing,” she challenged.
“I just want to know what happened to my father. I figured that my future husband would want to help me, because without my father’s blessing, our wedding won’t take place.
” Shit, she was right, but that didn’t make him want to help her find her old man.
“I’m aware,” he grumbled. His voice hardened slightly. “You walked into a lion’s den and said my name like you had a right to it. Usually, pulling that kind of shit doesn’t end well.”
“For who?” she asked quietly.
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “For anyone.” Silence stretched between them, and then she took a step closer. She was too close to him, but he didn’t back away from her. He took her proximity as a challenge, and he never backed down from one of those. Luca didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch.
“You’ve been watching me,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but more like a statement. He didn’t bother to deny it.
“I figured that I should at least know who I was expected to marry,” he insisted.
“And what did you find out about me?” she asked. Luca tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle he hadn’t decided whether he wanted to solve or destroy.
“That you’re either brave,” he said slowly. “Or stupid.” Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t look away.
“Which one do you think I am?”
Luca paused. “Both.” Something flickered in her eyes. It wasn’t fear, not exactly, but something stronger.
“Good,” she said. “Then I’m exactly where I need to be.” Luca exhaled sharply through his nose, something that sounded almost like a laugh—if he was the kind of man who laughed.
“You don’t get it,” he muttered.
“Then explain it to me.”
His gaze hardened. “No.”
Her patience snapped—just slightly. “Everyone keeps telling me I don’t understand,” she said, voice tightening.
“But no one will actually tell me anything. I’m supposed to just marry you without knowing anything about you.
” Yeah, he had an unfair advantage over her.
He was told about their pending nuptials weeks ago, allowing him to investigate Isabella.
But he heard that she had only just been told the happy news about their wedding.
“Because knowing the truth won’t save you,” Luca said bluntly.
“It might,” Isabella countered.
“It won’t,” he insisted. The certainty in his voice seemed to hit her like a wall, but she didn’t back down. Of course, she didn’t.
“Do you know what happened to my father?” she said. He knew that in the past few hours, there had been chatter in the city that her old man was dead, but he didn’t want to be the one to tell her that.
“From your silence, I’m guessing that he’s dead,” she said. It wasn’t a question. Instead, he gave a slight nod, and she let out a soft whimper that should have made him feel bad for her, but it didn’t. “Did you know my father?” she asked.
Her father was the one who had convinced his family’s elders to have the two of them marry. He knew that the Romano family couldn’t keep going with the war, so he proposed a solution that Luca’s family couldn’t pass up.
“Everyone knew Romano,” he replied carefully.
“That’s not what I asked,” she said. Her voice softened—but it didn’t lose its edge. “Did you know him?” Luca held her gaze, not sure if she should admit knowing her father or not. He had only met him a handful of times—the last being when they went over the terms for him marrying Isabella.
“Yeah,” he finally said. Just one word, but it seemed to carry weight with her.
Her breath caught—just barely. “Do you know what happened to him?”
There it was—the question she’d been chasing. The one who had dragged her straight into hell to talk to him. Luca’s jaw tightened as he glanced toward his office door. When he looked back at her, his expression had gone colder.
“You don’t want that answer,” he said.
“I do,” she insisted.
“No,” he corrected, “you think you do, but you don’t.”
Her hands curled at her sides. “Try me.” A long pause stretched between them—heavy and charged with the electricity that seemed to hum between them.
Then Luca stepped closer, not trying to be aggressive, and being careful not to threaten her. “Whatever you believe about your father,” he said quietly, voice dropping just enough that only she could hear him, “it’s not the whole story.”
Her breath hitched. “Then tell me the rest of the story.” His gaze locked onto hers—hard and unyielding.
“If I do,” he said, “you don’t walk away from this, or me—ever.” Something in her expression shifted. He saw a crack in her tough exterior. It was small, but real.
“Maybe I already can’t walk away from any of this,” she whispered, waving her hands around herself. Luca studied her for a long moment, and then, slowly, he stepped back.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, “that’s what I’m afraid of.”
The guard by the stairs cleared his throat, a reminder that they weren’t alone. Luca knew better than to say anything that might get passed on to the wrong people—namely, the other families in New York City. Luca glanced at him, then back at Isabella.
“Go home, Isabella,” he said. She didn’t move. “Before you get yourself buried in something you can’t climb out of.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m already buried deep in this, Luca. You know what happened to my father, and I’m being forced to marry you, if you haven’t forgotten that bit of information.” Silence filled his office, and she turned, walking towards the stairs without another word.
Luca watched her the entire way down. Until she disappeared from sight.
Only then did he move again. He stopped outside the door, his expression unreadable, because there was one thing he knew for certain—That girl wasn’t done.
And if Luca let her back into his world, everything was about to get a lot more complicated.