41
The morning sunlight cascaded through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a golden glow. Lenora shifted beside me, her hair cascading like a dark river over my pillow. She looked so peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaotic feelings she stirred inside me.
I wasn't a man who indulged in vulnerability, but with her, it was different. She cracked open parts of me I didn't know existed. I let myself savor the sight of her for a few more seconds before leaning in and brushing a kiss to her temple.
"Morning, love," I murmured, my voice low and raspy.
She stirred, her lashes flutteringblue-green eyes looking at me as her lips curled into a sleepy smile. "Morning," she whispered, her voice still heavy with sleep.
As she sat up, pulling my oversized shirt over her legs, I watched her every move. There was something so natural about her being here, in my space. She belonged here—whether she realized it yet or not.
"How are you feeling?" I asked pulling her closer as I gently massaged her ass. She flushed holding on to me.
"I feel good."
I couldn't help smirking as I kissed her head.
"Breakfast is ready downstairs," I said, standing. "But I had an idea for later."
Her head tilted, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "What idea?"
I smirked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I want to take you to the design department. You've been hiding your talent for too long, Lenora. It's time they see what you're capable of."
Her face flushed, and her hands immediately fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. "Luca, I don't know... What if they think I'm not good enough?"
I crouched down, gripping her chin gently but firmly, forcing her to meet my gaze. "You're more than good enough. And if anyone there doesn't see that, they'll answer to me."
Her lips parted, her eyes shimmering with something between gratitude and disbelief. "You really believe in me, don't you?"
I smiled, my thumb brushing over her cheek. "More than you know, stellina."
After breakfast, I escorted her to the design department in my headquarters.
As we entered, the room buzzed with energy—designers hunched over drafting tables, discussing ideas, and clicking away at their computers.
Lenora's awe was palpable as her eyes darted around, soaking in the creative atmosphere.
I nudged her forward gently. "Go on. Show them what you've got." I stayed in the shadows.
She hesitated, clutching her notebook like a lifeline. Finally, she opened it and shared one of her sketches with a senior designer. The man's face lit up as he studied the intricate lines and innovative concepts, immediately calling over a few colleagues to see.
I stayed back, arms crossed, watching her come alive under their praise. She fit in so effortlessly, like she'd been a part of this world all along. Pride swelled in my chest, nearly overwhelming. She wasn't just talented—she was extraordinary.
Later that afternoon, back in my office, Lenora sat across from me, her focus divided between organizing my schedule and doodling in her notebook. Her pen moved fluidly over the page, her brows furrowed in concentration.
"Luca," she asked suddenly, her voice tentative.
"Hmm?"
She glanced up at me, her expression unreadable. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"You can ask me anything."
Her fingers fidgeted with her pen, a habit of hers when she was nervous. "I was just curious about Mia's mother. You said she left after Mia was born. Why would someone leave their child?"
My jaw tightened, and I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms. "Bianca.
.. she wasn't cut out for motherhood. She loved the idea of freedom more than she loved the idea of being a parent.
.. hence she decided she was going to leave Arlo with the responsibilities, the first few months she'd often drop by to visit for the sake of doing it, but she couldn't hide her distaste whenever she saw Mia.
" I said the memory making me not so pleasurable.
"She had been a red flag from the beginning yet Arlo was too late to notice until he witnessed her sleeping with his client."
She gasped.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze dropping to her notebook. "Some people don't deserve children," she said quietly, her voice laced with sorrow. "And the ones who yearn for them can't have any."
Her words struck me like a physical blow. I watched as she busied herself with her notebook, her expression guarded. She wasn't just making a general statement—this was personal.
"Lenora..." I began, my voice softening. "What do you mean by that?"
She froze, her shoulders stiffening. "Nothing," she said quickly, but the crack in her voice betrayed her.
"It's not nothing." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my desk. "Talk to me, angel."
She shook her head, forcing a strained smile. "It's just... something I've seen. Forget I said anything."
I didn't press her, but her words lingered, gnawing at the back of my mind.
That evening, I drove her home, the silence in the car thick with unspoken words. She seemed lost in her thoughts, her gaze fixed on the passing city lights.
As I pulled up in front of her building, I turned to her. "Lenora, whatever it is... you can tell me. You know that, right?"
She nodded, her smile small but genuine. "I know. Thank you, Luca."
Before I could say more, she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. "Goodnight."
I watched her until she disappeared into the building, my thoughts racing. There was so much about her I didn't know, so many layers she kept hidden. And I wanted to peel back every single one.
This woman was stubborn. She wouldn't trust herself to stay at my place continuously and had a lot more within her than she lets others see.
That night, as I was in my pool, her words echoed in my mind. Some people don't deserve children, and the ones who yearn for them can't have any.
It wasn't just a passing thought. It was a wound, a scar she carried. And I couldn't rest until I knew the truth.
Because Lenora wasn't just any woman. She was the one I was in love with.
She was becoming my everything.
The words she had spoken haunted me—sharp-edged and raw, digging into my mind long after she left my car.
I sat in my office the next morning, staring blankly at a contract I couldn't bring myself to focus on.
Some people don't deserve children, and the ones who yearn for them can't have any.
She wasn't just speaking in generalities. That sorrow in her voice, the tension in her body—it was something deeply personal. And whatever it was, it was tearing her apart.
And today she wasn't here at the office because it was a holiday and yes I was working on such an occasion as well.
I need to see her.
By the time I drove to her apartment that evening, I was done waiting. I wasn't going to let her keep this to herself any longer. She deserved to unburden her soul, and I'd be damned if I didn't prove to her that nothing—nothing—could push me away.
I knocked on her door, my knuckles rapping against the wood firmly. I heard her shuffle inside before she cracked the door open, her eyes softening.
"Luca? What are you doing here?"
"Let me in, Lenora." My voice was calm, but there was an edge of insistence. She hesitated, biting her lip before stepping aside and allowing me in.
Her apartment was quiet, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of lavender as always. She was wearing a loose sweater and leggings, her hair in a messy bun. Normally, I'd take a moment to admire how effortlessly beautiful she looked, but tonight, I was focused on one thing.
She sat down on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest as I took the seat across from her.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with weariness.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and met her gaze. "No. Whatever it is, you're carrying it alone, and you don't have to. Talk to me, stellina."
Her lips pressed together as she looked away, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, she spoke.
"It happened during the time at my uncle's," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know how Sam was...." Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.
Sam.
I clenched my fists at the reminder of that motherfucker, all her traumas... it's always coming through him.
"Lenora," I said gently, my heart sinking as I watched her struggle. "Take your time."
She closed her eyes, inhaling shakily. "H..he one night, he slipped something into my drink. I don't remember much, but when I woke up..." Her voice broke, and tears slipped down her cheeks.
My chest tightened, a fiery rage clawing its way through me. My hands curled into fists, the thought of her being hurt in such a vile way nearly blinding me with anger.
"He didn't just hurt me," she continued, her voice trembling.
"The drugs he gave me... they damaged me and he did that not once but very often.
When I finally built up the courage to see a doctor after I moved here, I was told.
.." She paused, her voice cracking. "I was told I wouldn't be able to have children. "
Her words hit me like a sledgehammer, but I forced myself to remain steady. She needed me right now, not my rage.
"I didn't tell anyone for years... not that there was anyone. And now, here I am, with you, and I..." She choked on a sob. "I keep wondering what you'll think when you realize I can't give you a family. That I'm... broken."
"Lenora," I said firmly, moving to sit beside her. She looked up at me, her tear-streaked face breaking my heart into a thousand pieces.
"I don't want to lose you Luca. Y-you're the best thing that happened to me," she whispered. "But I'm so scared you'll hate me for this. For not being enough."
How could I hate her? I would kill myself before such a thought.
I reached out, cupping her face in my hands and forcing her to meet my gaze, and she looked so fucking sad. "You are not broken," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "And you are more than enough. Do you hear me?"
Her tears spilled over as she shook her head. "Luca—"
"No," I interrupted roughly, my thumbs brushing away her tears as I kissed her eyelids. "You listen to me, pretty girl. None of this—none of it—it's not your fault, or changes how I feel about you. I don't care if we never have children. You're all I need."
She sobbed harder, her hands clutching at my wrists as if she couldn't believe my words. "But—"
"No buts," I said, leaning my forehead against hers. "You are mine, Lenora. And I will love you no matter what."
She froze as she looked up at me.
And I realized I've said it after weeks of being patient.
"I love you, Lenora," I kissed her tears away. "And nothing- or no one can in between my love to you."
Her breath hitched, her hands trembling against my skin. I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, pouring every ounce of love and reassurance I could into each touch.
"You are perfect to me," I whispered against her lips.
"Oh Luca.." she held onto me tighter, her emotions all transparent.
She broke down completely, collapsing into my arms as I held her tightly. I stroked her hair, murmuring soft reassurances as she cried, her pain pouring out in waves.
But beneath my tenderness was a simmering rage. Sam. The bastard who had done this to her. Who had stolen so much from her. And at this moment that I regret not killing him—making him suffer more for every tear she shed.
"I should've killed him," I muttered darkly, my jaw tightening.
"What?" she asked, pulling back slightly to look at me.
"Sam," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "If I'd known.." I stopped myself.
She shook her head, her fingers brushing my cheek. "Luca, please. Don't let your anger consume you. I just... I just want to move on."
I exhaled slowly, nodding.
She gave me a small, watery smile, her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you."
I kissed her again, softer this time, before pulling her back into my arms. "You're safe now," I murmured. "And I'll make sure you always will be."
Couple hours after I took her to my place, I didn't want her going through any of this alone and Lenora didn't seem like she would be happy with being away from me.
We sat there in my living room, the cold quiet place now seeming to have a lighter aura and the reason was one her alone, holding each other, I knew one thing for certain: I would protect her with everything I had.
And no matter what demons from her past tried to haunt her, I would be her shield, her safe place, her everything.
Lenora fell asleep in my arms, her hands still clutching onto me tight, her tears now dried. I carried her towards my room as I gently laid her on the bed and covered her with the duvet. She didn't have dinner but waking her up now wasn't a good idea, so I let her rest up holding her close to me.
Later that night the memory of Lenora's voice, trembling yet brave as she recounted the horrors Sam had inflicted on her, wouldn't leave me. It played on a loop in my mind, haunting me, taunting me with the pain she'd endured.
I couldn't let it go.
I sat in my office, the dim light of the desk lamp casting shadows across the room. The leather chair creaked under my weight as I leaned back, swirling the whiskey in my glass, but the alcohol did nothing to dull the fire burning inside me.
Lenora was asleep upstairs, finally at peace, her breathing even and soft when I checked on her earlier. She had no idea the storm brewing within me, the storm I intended to unleash.
My phone sat on the desk, taunting me like the memory of Sam's name. I clenched my jaw, staring at it, my fingers itching to make the call I'd been debating since she had said everything.
He had stolen so much from her. Her innocence, her peace of mind, her dreams of motherhood. The bastard had drugged her, violated her, and left her to pick up the shattered pieces of her life while he walked harmless.
Not anymore.
With a steady hand, I picked up the phone and dialed Vince, one of my most trusted men. He answered on the second ring.
"Boss," Vince greeted, his voice gruff but respectful.
"I need you to take care of something," I said, my voice colder than I'd ever heard it.
There was a pause on the other end. Vince had been with me long enough to know what "take care of" meant when I used that tone.
"Who's the target?" he asked, his voice calm, professional.
"Sam Kenneth," I said, spitting the name like poison. "He's locked up in prison. I want you to make arrangements with the guards—our guards. Make it look like an accident."
Another pause. Vince didn't question me; he never did. He trusted my judgment, knew my rage was never misplaced.
"It'll be done," he said finally.
"Make sure it's clean. No loose ends," I added. My grip on the phone tightened, my knuckles turning white.
"Understood, boss," Vince replied. "Anything else?"
"Yeah," I said, my voice dropping to a growl. "I want him to suffer first. I want him to feel every ounce of fear, every shred of pain, before it's over. Make sure the guards know that."
There was no hesitation this time. "Consider it done."
I ended the call and set the phone down, staring at it as the weight of my decision settled over me.
Sam Kenneth wouldn't live to see another sunrise.
I thought of Lenora again, her laughter, her fiery spirit, her unusual eyes, the way she looked at me with trust and hope despite all she'd been through. She's my everything.
And no one—no one—would ever hurt her again.