Chapter 17
The only thing I ever wanted
After Enzo left the room, Luca lingered by the window, his thoughts a mess of emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. Outside, the estate was quiet, the hum of the security system a low, steady pulse beneath the silence, a reminder that the world hadn’t stopped spinning even if it felt like it had.
His body was still humming from the adrenaline, the phantom echo of gunfire ringing in his bones. The crash had come fast and hard, leaving him raw, his limbs heavy with exhaustion but his mind too restless to find peace. His arm throbbed beneath the fresh bandage; a dull, rhythmic ache that kept him tethered to the present.
He was ashamed. Not of the fight, not of the bloodshed; that was familiar territory. But of the way he’d let his guard slip, the way Enzo had seen through him so easily. The Morettis weren’t a family that wore their wounds on the outside, and Luca had spent years perfecting the art of keeping people at arm’s length. Yet tonight, something had given way. A crack in the armor, a moment of weakness he couldn’t take back.
Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the weight of too many battles fought and too few won. Or maybe, God help him, it was Caleb. Caleb, who had reappeared like a ghost from a past Luca had convinced himself was buried. Caleb, who had looked at him with eyes full of fire and old wounds, unraveling Luca in ways he wasn’t ready for.
Still, despite the embarrassment, he felt… lighter. More grounded. Like a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying had been lifted, even if just a little. Enzo’s quiet understanding, the way he hadn’t pushed or judged, had been a balm Luca hadn’t known he needed. But now, alone in the dim glow of his room, the doubts crept back in, relentless as ever.
Was Caleb okay? He had seemed steady enough earlier, but Luca knew better. Knew the way Caleb masked his wounds, how he buried pain beneath sharp words and forced indifference.
Was he furious? Luca wouldn’t blame him. He’d made a choice without discussing it with him, called in his brothers, dragged Caleb into a world he had spent years trying to escape. And now they were here, under the same roof, surrounded by men who had every reason to see Caleb as a threat.
Would Caleb even let him in if he knocked? Would he rip into him? Would he send him away?
The questions tumbled through his mind, a relentless tide refusing to ebb. Luca exhaled sharply, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes as if he could physically push the thoughts away. He couldn’t just stand here, drowning in his own overthinking. He needed to act, needed to move, before his own hesitation swallowed him whole. Even if it was reckless. Even if it made everything worse.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he turned on his heel and left the room, his footsteps a whisper against the hardwood floor.
The house lay draped in silence, the kind that only settled in the deepest hours of the night. Faint moonlight bled through the windows, stretching shadows long and ghostlike across the walls. Luca navigated the hallways with an instinct honed by years of familiarity, his body moving on autopilot toward the guest room.
He reached the door and hesitated, his hand hovering just inches from the wood.
Should he knock? Should he turn around and pretend this impulse had never existed?
His mind waged war with his heart, each argument louder than the last, his pulse a steady drumbeat against his ribs. The door loomed before him, not just a piece of wood but a threshold he wasn’t sure he had the courage to cross.
Before he could decide, the door swung open, and suddenly, Luca was face to face with Caleb.
Caleb looked startled at the sight of Luca standing in the doorway, but the flicker of surprise was gone in an instant, replaced by that familiar, impassive mask. Luca cleared his throat, his voice quiet but unwavering. "Hey. Can we talk?"
Caleb didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered on Luca’s face, searching, as if debating whether he should let him in or not. Finally, he gave a small nod and stepped aside, wordlessly granting him entry.
Luca stepped in, his eyes sweeping the space. The room was nearly identical to his own; large, well-appointed, a seamless blend of modern elegance and old-world charm. The bed was neatly made, the heavy curtains drawn back to reveal the inky sprawl of the estate grounds.
A quiet breath of relief slipped through him. He loved Matteo, but his brother could be a spiteful bastard when he wanted to be. Given the history, Luca wouldn’t have been surprised if Caleb had been stashed in some windowless closet out of sheer pettiness. Thank God for Aldo and his ability to talk sense into his brother.
The door clicked shut behind them, and when Luca turned, Caleb was watching him, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Luca wandered over to the bay window, leaning against the frame as if the cool glass could ground him. He was dressed in jeans and a simple t-shirt and, suddenly, Luca became painfully aware of himself; bare-chested, clad only in soft grey sweatpants, his hair still disheveled from restless fingers. But he shoved the self-consciousness aside. There were far more pressing things at hand.
That damn mask was still in place on Caleb's face, and Luca hated it. He’d seen it before, years ago, when they were younger and Caleb had started pulling away. It was the look of someone who had fortified himself, brick by brick, until no one could reach him. Not even Luca.
Luca took a slow breath, as if steadying himself against something unseen. "I'm sorry."
Caleb arched a brow, his expression carefully measured. "For what?"
Luca's gaze drifted to the floor, his voice quieter now. "I know how you feel about my family. I shouldn’t have dragged you back into this. I know this is the last place you want to be."
The silence that followed was heavy, thick with everything unsaid. Luca could feel Caleb weighing his response, each second stretching unbearably. Finally, he spoke. "Luca..."
"No." Luca cut him off, not unkindly, but with quiet conviction. "I get it. And if I’m being honest with myself, I get it more than I want to admit. I was angry when you left. I hated you for it. But I understand why you did it. Some days… I don’t want to be here either." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make it more real, more damning.
Caleb studied him, his gaze unrelenting yet unreadable. Then, in a voice low and deliberate, he asked, "Then why stay?"
Luca’s chest tightened as he looked away. The answer was simple, painfully so. And yet, voicing it felt like a quiet kind of devastation. "Where would I go?"
The words hung between them, raw and unguarded. The room itself seemed to absorb the weight of them, holding its breath in the silence that followed. Then, softly, Caleb moved; his footsteps muted against the carpet as he closed the space between them. Luca refused to look up, suddenly feeling too exposed, too raw beneath the weight of his own confession.
Caleb stopped just a few steps away, his hands buried deep in his pockets. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but steady. "I'm not mad because you called your brothers, Luca."
Luca’s head snapped up at that, startled. He met Caleb’s eyes, searching them, but the hardness from earlier had faded. There was something else there now, something softer, gentle.
"I'm mad because you didn’t tell me," Caleb continued, his voice laced with regret. "And not at you. At myself. Because if you didn’t trust me enough to say something, that’s on me. And I hate that. I don’t regret leaving. I didn’t want this life then, and I still don’t. But I do regret the way I did it. You didn’t deserve that."
Caleb exhaled, his voice dipping lower, rougher. "It may be two decades too late, but I’m sorry, Luca. I’m so damn sorry."
Luca stared at him, his chest tightening, his thoughts an indecipherable mess. He had spent years imagining these words, aching for them in the quiet spaces of his mind. But now that they were here, they felt almost too much; too big, too heavy, too real.
Luca swallowed hard, forcing his gaze away as his jaw tightened against the storm raging inside him. He felt unsteady, like the ground beneath him had shifted without warning. Caleb’s apology echoed in his mind, unraveling him in ways he hadn’t been prepared for.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. When he’d come to Caleb’s room, he had braced himself for a fight; biting words, accusations, maybe even a fist fight. He’d steeled himself for Caleb’s anger, for the resentment he knew had been simmering just beneath the surface. But instead, Caleb had given him an apology. A real one. One that cut through years of bitterness and left Luca feeling exposed and off balance.
Once, a lifetime ago, an apology from Caleb had been all he wanted. He’d imagined it countless times, rehearsed what he would say, how he would feel. But now, hearing those words, it felt like something fragile and unspoken had been growing between them since that night on the ranch, and this was the moment it would break. And Luca wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t want it to end.
Still, he forced himself to breathe, to nod, his voice steady despite the turmoil clawing at his ribs. “I’ll talk to Enzo in the morning,” he said, eyes fixed on a spot just past Caleb’s shoulder. “We’ll figure things out. Get you out of the States, somewhere the DEA won’t find you. You’ll be safe. I promise.”
When he finally looked at Caleb, their gazes locked for a beat too long. Caleb didn’t speak, his expression unreadable, his silence heavy in the space between them. Luca nodded again, a small, almost resigned smile flickering at the edges of his mouth before he turned away, moving past him, intent on leaving. He couldn’t stay, not with the weight of everything pressing down on him, not with the way his chest ached with something he couldn’t name.
“Get some rest,” Luca murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper as he reached for the door. But before he could open it fully, a hand shot past his shoulder and slammed it shut.
Luca froze, his heart stopping for a moment and then restarting at full speed as Caleb stepped closer. The heat of his body pressed into Luca’s back, the warmth of his breath puffing against the side of Luca’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. One of his hands rose, gripping Luca’s hip with a firmness that made his breath hitch. Caleb crowded into him, their bodies touching from head to toe, the hard lines of Caleb’s chest and thighs pressing against Luca’s back and legs. The proximity was overwhelming, the heat between them electric.
“I don’t want to go,” Caleb whispered, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing against the crook of Luca’s neck. The hand on Luca’s hip moved, sliding forward across his lower abdomen, the fingers dipping slightly beneath the waistband of his joggers. Luca’s breath stuttered, his body trembling as Caleb’s touch sent a jolt of desire through him.
Luca stared at the door in front of him without seeing, his mind a haze of need and disbelief. His cock plumped into full hardness in an instant, the ache of it sharp and insistent. His voice shook as he breathed out, “What do you want, then?”
In the next moment, Caleb’s hand, still pressed against the door, moved, grabbing Luca’s face and turning it to the side. Their lips met in a searing kiss, Caleb’s mouth claiming Luca’s with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. Luca moaned unabashedly, the sound swallowed by Caleb as his tongue slid into Luca’s mouth, hot and demanding. The kiss was deep, consuming, Caleb’s lips moving against his with a desperation that mirrored Luca’s own.
Caleb’s other hand dipped fully beneath the waistband of Luca’s joggers, wrapping around his cock with a firm grip. Luca’s hips jerked forward instinctively, a low groan tearing from his throat as pleasure shot through him. Caleb’s touch was sure, his strokes deliberate, each movement sending waves of heat coursing through Luca’s body. He felt like he was on fire, every nerve alight with sensation.
Caleb broke the kiss only to trail his lips along Luca’s jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath his ear. “I want you,” Caleb murmured, his voice rough with need. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Luca’s head fell back against Caleb’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as Caleb’s hand continued to move, the friction maddening. “Caleb…” he breathed, his voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief.
Caleb’s lips found his again, the kiss slower this time but no less intense. His tongue slid against Luca’s, the taste of him intoxicating, the rhythm of their mouths matching the pace of Caleb’s hand. Luca’s fingers scrabbled against the door, searching for something to anchor him as the pleasure built, threatening to overwhelm him, as Caleb's hard cock pressed into his ass, his hips undulating against him in times with his strokes.
“Tell me you want this,” Caleb said against his lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through Luca. “Tell me you want me.”
Luca’s breath hitched, his body trembling as he turned his head to capture Caleb’s lips again, his hand grabbing the back of Caleb’s neck. “I want you,” he whispered, the words raw and honest. “You're the only thing I ever wanted.”
Caleb’s grip tightened, his strokes becoming faster, more urgent. His hips moved in time with his hand, the pleasure in Luca coiling tighter and tighter until he felt like he might shatter. Caleb’s lips trailed down his neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, and Luca gasped, his fingers digging into the doorframe.
“Caleb, I’m...” Luca’s warning was cut off as the pleasure crested, his body tensing as he came, his release spilling over Caleb’s hand. Caleb held him through it, his lips pressed against Luca’s neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his hips stuttered as well, a growl escaping his mouth as he came a moment later.