24
The office was unusually quiet that morning, a stark contrast to the usual hum of activity.
I sat at my desk, my eyes scanning through reports that felt more like a blur than anything meaningful.
My mind kept drifting, not to the work in front of me, but to Luca.
He was different lately, protective in ways that confused me.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed between us, but I wasn't sure what it was or if I should even acknowledge it.
As I fidgeted with a pen in my hand, the sound of Luca's firm footsteps in the hallway pulled me back to the present.
He entered my office without knocking, like always—commanding, confident everyone stopping by to say good morning to him.
He walked as though he owned the entire building.
His gaze met mine, and for a moment, the usual coolness in his eyes was replaced by something else. Something... unreadable.
"Lenora," he said, his voice smooth but edged with a rare warmth. "We need to talk."
I immediately sat up straighter, unsure of what to expect. Was this a business conversation or something more personal? Lately, the line between the two had been getting blurry, and that made me uneasy.
"About what?" I asked, trying to sound casual even though my heart was already pounding a little faster.
He stepped closer, standing in front of my desk. He leaned against the edge, his presence overwhelming as always. "My mother... invited you to dinner this week."
My eyes widened in surprise. Dinner? With his mother? Why would she want me there?
"Your mother?" I repeated, unsure if I had heard him right.
He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in what might have been a smile—or a smirk. "She's eager to meet you. Apparently, I've been talking about you more than I thought." There was an edge to his voice, something possessive in the way he said "talking."
Oh.
I felt my cheeks heat up at the thought of his mother hearing about me. What had he told her? Was it just casual mention, or was there more to it? The idea of his mother forming an opinion of me made me nervous, but I couldn't bring myself to say no.
"Why me?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. "Why would your mother want to meet me?"
Luca's gaze softened, but only slightly. His usual intensity never fully left him. "She's curious. And if I'm being honest, she likes the idea of you." He paused, his eyes narrowing as if calculating something in his mind. "She wants to see what's so special about you. What I see in you."
What he sees in me. I wonder that too.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling a mix of confusion and tension building in my chest. Was this really happening? Was this some kind of test? His mother seemed like a person who wouldn't tolerate anything less than perfection, and I was far from that.
"I don't know what to say," I murmured, my hands fiddling with the edge of my notepad. "I'm not exactly the kind of person your mother might expect."
Luca's eyes darkened slightly, and I could see the faintest flicker of something—frustration? Irritation? His gaze softened, but only just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his true emotions beneath the surface.
"You're overthinking it, Lenora," he said, his voice low and reassuring, though there was a definite command in the way he spoke. "My mother is not someone you need to impress. She'll appreciate you for who you are. I know I do."
I nodded, feeling both comforted and overwhelmed by his words. The pressure of the situation was already beginning to build in my chest. Meeting his mother? What did she expect from me? What would Luca want me to say or do?
But before I could voice any more concerns, he spoke again, his tone shifting to something more playful—almost teasing.
"Just don't be late," he added with a half-smile. "She'll never forgive you if you are."
"Okay," I said simply.
He leaned more close, arms wrapping around my waist.
"I like you Lenora." He simply stated.
'L..luca.." I stuttered, we weren't in his office and someone could see us.
"Shh.. I know it's all confusing sweetheart, but I'm here to take care of you," he caressed my cheek, a dark possessive expression on his face and something else. Something I couldn't name it.
Or was afraid to.