43
The apartment was warm with the scent of garlic and fresh herbs.
Luca was standing by the stove, sleeves rolled up, focused entirely on the task of cooking dinner.
He had insisted—no, demanded—that I let him handle dinner tonight, even though I knew the man had likely been buried under a mountain of work earlier today.
"You know I'm capable of cooking, right?" I teased, leaning against the counter as I stuffed more M&M's.
He glanced at me over his shoulder, one dark brow arched. "You're capable, yes. But I don't trust you to eat anything substantial unless I'm here to make it for you."
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're stubborn," he shot back smoothly, turning back to the pan with a smirk.
I sighed loudly as he gave me a pointed look,
"Too much of those aren't good for you."
"Bu-" I open to protest only to be cut off when he yanks it off my hand shaking his head.
"At least after dinner, si?"
I nod patiently, he kisses my nose and gets back to cooking.
I watched him, unable to look away. The way his muscles shifted under his shirt, the precise movements of his hands, the concentrated furrow of his brow—it was mesmerizing.
And dangerous.
Because with every passing moment, I felt myself falling deeper into the abyss that was Luca Maroni.
He had already told me he loved me. Those three words, spoken with such raw conviction everyday had completely unraveled me. Luca wasn't the kind of man who gave his heart easily, and yet he had handed it to me without hesitation. It made the weight of my feelings for him even more terrifying.
And yet, I couldn't stop them.
"Dinner's ready," Luca announced, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
I slid onto one of the stools at the kitchen island as he set a plate of perfectly cooked Maqloobain front of me. Yes since I had told him my love for the middle eastern, Italian and some English cuisine. He had been cooking variety of the dishes from those sides.
How did I get so lucky?
"Whoaa this looks amazing," I said, genuinely impressed.
"I don't do things halfway," he replied, sitting down across from me.
As we ate, he watched me closely, his piercing gray eyes softening every time I smiled or laughed at one of his dry remarks. It was like he could see straight into my soul, and the intensity of it made my chest ache.
By the time we finished dinner, my heart was pounding in my chest. I had been debating whether or not to say something all evening, and the tension was eating me alive.
"Luca," I said softly as he began clearing the table.
He stopped, turning to face me with a curious look. "What is it, amore?"
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "There's something I've been wanting to say."
His expression shifted, the teasing light in his eyes giving way to something more serious. "Go on," he urged gently.
I took a deep breath, my heart racing. "I love you, too."
The words came out in a rush, but they hung in the air like a declaration of war—against my fears, my doubts, and the walls I had spent so long building.
For a moment, Luca just stared at me, as if he was processing what I'd just said. Then, in a flash, he was in front of me, pulling me to my feet and into his arms.
"Say it again," he demanded, his voice low and rough with emotion.
"I love you," I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed his forehead to mine. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that."
"You already knew," I pointed out with a watery smile.
"I did," he admitted, his lips brushing against mine. "But hearing you say it... it's different. It's everything."
His kiss was slow and consuming, a promise of everything he felt for me. His hands slid to my waist, holding me like I was something precious, something sacred.
Later, we sat together on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background I leaned against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my arm, sending shivers down my spine.
"You terrify me, you know that?" I murmured, my voice barely audible.
He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Why?"
"Because you make me feel things I didn't think I could feel anymore."
His expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You're safe with me, Lenora. I'll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to."
"I know," I whispered as I snuggled closer towards him, his perfectly built body providing all the warmth that I'd been craving of.
I believed him. For the first time in years, I truly believed I could let my guard down.
And with Luca by my side, I didn't feel scared anymore.
It wasn't just love. It was something deeper, something unbreakable. And I was finally ready to embrace it.