29. Luca
Luca
I still can’t sleep.
The house is silent, but it’s the wrong kind of quiet. The kind that isn’t peaceful—it’s suffocating. The weight of everything lingers in the walls, in the air, in my own skin.
I sit on the edge of the bed, elbows braced against my knees, staring at my hands.
These hands.
The ones that have built a kingdom, protected my family, and torn my enemies apart.
The same hands that almost lost everything.
I flex my fingers before clenching them into fists, my knuckles going white.
I don’t know how to stop fighting.
My gaze flickers to the far side of the room, where the curtains shift slightly from the night breeze. The city outside is alive, moving, breathing. But I feel frozen. Stuck in the moment before battle. The war is over. Renzo is dead. But the fight inside me refuses to die with him.
Behind me, the sheets rustle softly.
I don’t turn, but I know she’s awake.
Gilly.
I feel her before she touches me. Her warmth spreads toward me, her presence a quiet force that pulls at the tight knots in my chest.
She doesn’t speak right away.
Then, after a moment, she exhales.
"Luca."
My name, soft and steady.
I close my eyes.
She knows me too well.
I hear her shift, the bed dipping as she moves closer. Then, delicate fingers brush over my bare shoulder. Slow. Intentional.
She traces the old scars, the new bruises. The places that have been broken and put back together too many times.
"You’re still fighting," she murmurs.
I exhale sharply through my nose but don’t deny it.
Her fingers skim lower, over my forearm, then wrap around my wrist. She pries my fist open, forcing my fingers to relax against hers.
"You don’t have to," she whispers.
She doesn’t say stop.
She doesn’t tell me to be someone I’m not.
Just that I don’t have to keep my fists up—not with her.
I swallow hard, my throat tight.
But I don’t know how to let go.
She shifts again, moving until she’s kneeling behind me, her breath warm against the back of my neck. Her fingers trace slow patterns down my arm, grounding me.
"I need you here, Luca," she says, her voice even softer now. "Not in your head. Not in the past. Here. With me."
Her hands slide to my shoulders, kneading gently at the tension that has lived there for years.
I should tell her that I am here. That I never left.
But that would be a lie.
I’m stuck between who I was and who I need to be.
I fought for this life, but I don’t know how to live in it.
She leans in, her lips brushing just below my ear. "Come back to me."
I exhale slowly, steadying my voice. "I don’t know how."
She moves, shifting until she’s in front of me, kneeling between my legs. Her hands rest on my thighs, her gaze locked on mine.
"Then let me show you."
I finally meet her eyes.
And the moment I do, something cracks inside me.
She sees it.
She always does.
"You’re holding on too tight," she whispers. "Let go, Luca."
I shake my head, my fingers twitching against my knees. "I can’t."
"You can," she argues. "You just won’t."
A muscle in my jaw ticks. She’s right. She’s always right.
Her hands slide up, resting over my bare chest, right over my heartbeat. I know she can feel it—uneven, too fast, like I’m still bracing for the next fight.
"You fought so hard for us," she murmurs. "Now let yourself have it."
I don’t know how.
But when she leans in, when her lips brush against mine in the lightest, softest touch—
Something in me breaks.
Her lips brush against mine—soft, hesitant, like she’s waiting for me to meet her halfway.
But I don’t move.
I can’t.
I’m too afraid that if I touch her, if I let go even a little, I won’t know how to stop.
Gilly pulls back just enough to search my face, her eyes dark and unshaken. "Luca."
Just my name. Nothing else.
A call to bring me back.
My pulse hammers against my ribs, my breath shallow. She’s right here, right in front of me, but it feels like she’s miles away—like I’m the one keeping the distance.
Because I don’t know how to reach for something I don’t deserve.
Her hands move slowly, trailing over my chest, her palms warm against my bare skin.
"You’re not a soldier anymore," she murmurs. "The fight is over, Luca."
I let out a slow, shaky breath. "It’s all I know."
Gilly’s fingers slide up, brushing over the sharp lines of my jaw, her touch careful but sure. "Then learn something new."
I clench my fists against my thighs, my muscles taut, locked. I want to. God, I want to. But the war inside me isn’t so easy to silence.
"You think I can just forget?" My voice comes out rough, almost bitter. "That I can flip a switch and be someone else?"
She doesn’t flinch. "No. I don’t want you to forget."
Her hands slide back down, gripping my wrists, prying my fingers open again—just like before. She lifts my hands, pressing them to her waist. Holding them there. Holding me there.
"I just want you to remember what you fought for."
Her breath fans against my lips, her scent wrapping around me. Her skin is warm beneath my palms, soft in all the ways I’m not.
I fought for her.
For this.
And now that I have it, I don’t know what the hell to do with it.
Her fingers tighten over mine. "You won, Luca. But you’re still acting like you’re losing."
I exhale sharply, my grip on her waist instinctively tightening. She tilts her head, her gaze never leaving mine. "Let yourself have this. Let yourself have me."
She’s so close, her body flush against mine. Her warmth seeps into my skin, into the cracks I swore I wouldn’t let anyone see.
And suddenly, I’m not thinking anymore.
I’m moving.
I crash my mouth against hers, desperate, almost rough, pouring everything I can’t say into the kiss.
She gasps against me but doesn’t pull away. No—she leans in, pressing closer, her fingers threading through my hair, her nails scraping lightly against my scalp.
I groan, my grip tightening on her hips, dragging her into my lap.
She doesn’t hesitate.
She moves with me, molding against my body, wrapping her legs around my waist.
A slow, satisfied hum vibrates against my lips as she shifts against me, her warmth sinking through every layer of my restraint.
I pull back, just enough to meet her gaze, my breaths ragged.
Her lips are swollen, her pupils blown wide. "You’re here," she whispers.
And she’s right.
For the first time since the war ended—since the blood, the fire, the chaos—I am here.
With her.
For her.
And I’m not letting go.
I don’t hesitate.
I don’t hold back.
I crash my mouth into hers, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her flush against me, desperate to feel every inch of her.
Gilly gasps, but she doesn’t pull away. No—she presses closer, her fingers tangling in my hair, nails scraping against my scalp, fueling the fire already raging inside me.
I don’t know how to be gentle.
Not with her.
Not now.
She doesn’t want gentle. She wants me—the real me. The one who has spent his entire life fighting, who has built walls so high no one has ever scaled them. No one except her.
I grip her hips, dragging her fully into my lap, swallowing the soft moan that spills from her lips as she straddles me.
Her robe has slipped from her shoulders, leaving nothing between us but heat and skin. My hands slide down her bare thighs, over the soft curves of her ass, gripping hard enough to make her whimper.
"Look at you," I murmur against her lips, my voice rough, dark. "So fucking beautiful."
She exhales sharply, her eyes burning as she tilts her hips, grinding against me, teasing me, driving me insane.
"Luca," she whispers, her voice like silk over gravel, like the only thing that’s ever been soft in my world.
I groan, my grip tightening.
I need her.
Now.
I flip us effortlessly, pinning her to the mattress, caging her beneath me. She gasps, her eyes wide, wild, so fucking perfect.
But she doesn’t look away.
She doesn’t fight.
She just looks at me.
Like I’m something more than the blood I’ve spilled. More than the violence that stains my soul.
Like I am hers.
I don’t deserve this.
I don’t deserve her.
But I’m too fucking selfish to let go.
Her fingers trace the hard lines of my jaw, her touch featherlight, a direct contrast to the storm inside me.
"You don’t have to fight anymore," she murmurs.
My throat tightens.
But I do.
Because if I stop fighting, I’ll break.
And if I break—I won’t survive it.
Her hand moves lower, over my chest, her palm pressing flat against my heartbeat.
"You’re here," she whispers. "With me. Just stay here, Luca. Just for tonight."
Something inside me snaps.
I kiss her like I’ll never have the chance again.
Like she’s the last thing I’ll ever taste.
She melts beneath me, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper, her soft body molding to mine in a way that feels like home.
I drag my lips down her jaw, her throat, memorizing every inch of her skin.
I need her everywhere.
I need to make her feel this.
My hands roam over her body, slow and reverent, my fingers tracing the dips and curves that have haunted me for years.
"Tell me you’re mine," I growl against her collarbone, my teeth scraping against sensitive skin.
She shudders, her hands shaking as she grips my shoulders.
"I’m yours," she breathes.
My restraint shatters.
I move lower, my tongue flicking over the peak of her breast, earning the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
Her back arches, her body offering itself to me without hesitation, without fear.
I take my time.
Savoring. Worshipping. Claiming.
She is the only thing I have ever wanted.
And tonight, I won’t stop until she knows it.
I slide lower, my mouth trailing heat over the soft skin of her stomach, my hands gripping her thighs, spreading her open for me.
A sharp gasp escapes her lips.
"Luca—"
I don’t let her finish.
I press my mouth to her, tasting her, devouring her.
She shatters instantly, her body jerking against my hold, a choked moan slipping from her lips.
"Fuck," she breathes, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.
I smirk against her, my tongue working slow, deliberate strokes, my hands gripping her thighs, holding her in place.
"You like that, little hellcat?" I murmur, my breath hot against her.
She whimpers, her head falling back against the pillows, her body completely wrecked beneath me.
I don’t stop.
I don’t let up.
I devour her.
And when she finally comes apart, trembling and breathless, I’m right there with her, holding her together.
But I’m not done.
Not even close.
I crawl back over her, my lips brushing hers, swallowing her whimper as I position myself at her entrance.
I lock eyes with her, holding there, giving her one last chance to run.
But she doesn’t.
She lifts her hips, her fingers tracing over my jaw, her breath uneven.
"Make me yours," she whispers.
I grip her chin, my thumb dragging over her swollen lower lip.
"You already are."
Then I thrust into her.
Hard.
Deep.
Fucking perfect.
She gasps, her nails digging into my back, her walls clenching around me, pulling me deeper.
A low, guttural groan rips from my throat.
"Christ, Gilly. You feel so fucking good."
She trembles beneath me, her body tight, wet, made for me.
I don’t hold back.
I pound into her, every thrust a claim, a brand, a promise.
She moans my name, her breathless cries spurring me on, making me lose myself completely.
The world fades away.
There is only this.
Only her.
She’s the only thing that matters.
I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles.
Her breath catches.
She’s close.
So close.
"Come for me," I demand, my voice a raw, ragged growl.
She breaks.
Her body tightens, trembles, shudders, her climax ripping through her, dragging me right over the edge with her.
I bury myself deep, filling her completely, groaning her name as my release crashes into me.
I don’t let go of her.
I never will.
We collapse together, tangled in sweat and sheets and something far deeper.
For the first time in forever, I feel at peace.
Gilly shifts, pressing her lips to my jaw, her breath warm, soft.
"You’re here," she whispers.
I press a kiss to her temple, my arm tightening around her.
"I’m not going anywhere."
She smiles, tucking her head under my chin, her body curling into mine like we were made for this.
Like we were made for each other.
And as sleep starts to take us, I hear her whisper against my skin.
"I love you, Luca."
I press my lips to her forehead, my chest tightening.
"I love you too, little hellcat."
I exhale against her mouth, my grip tightening ever so slightly. "Say it again."
She chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to my jaw, my cheek, my lips. "I love you, Luca Marchesi."
A warmth I don’t know how to name spreads through my chest, and before I can stop myself, I roll us over, pinning her beneath me, her laughter turning into a soft gasp as I claim her mouth again.
I don’t care if the world burns outside this room.
I don’t care about anything except this.
Except her.
She’s mine.
She’s always been mine.
And I’m never letting go.