What We Left in the Dark

Nine

Luca's hand rested lightly on my back as we stepped out into the cool evening air. My mind was racing, the events of the last hour blending together in a way that left me disoriented and more than a little uneasy. As we walked, I could feel the tension building, the unspoken words between us hanging heavy in the air. I wasn't sure where he was taking me, but I was certain it wasn't somewhere I had ever been before.

We walked a few blocks from the office, Luca leading the way with the same confident stride he always had. But there was something different tonight—a sense of purpose, a determination that I couldn't quite place. When we finally arrived at our destination, I hesitated, glancing up at the unmarked door of a building that looked like nothing more than a nondescript storefront.

"Here we are," Luca said, his voice low as he pushed the door open. He gestured for me to go inside, his eyes locking with mine in a way that made it clear there was no turning back.

I stepped inside, my breath catching in my throat as the scene before me unfolded. The place was anything but quiet. The bar was lavishly decorated, with dark wood paneling, plush velvet seating, and chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow over everything. But it was the people that drew my attention—a mix of men in tailored suits, women draped in luxurious fabrics, all moving through the space with an air of casual opulence. Cigars were lit everywhere, the thick smoke curling in the air like a ghostly veil.

I had expected something private, intimate—maybe even a quiet corner where we could talk. But this place was anything but that. It was shadowy, yes, but it was also alive with an undercurrent of energy that was both intoxicating and unsettling. The contrast between the dark, moody atmosphere and the flash of wealth and power was stark, and it left me feeling out of place, as if I had stepped into a world where I didn't quite belong.

Luca didn't seem fazed. He moved through the crowd with ease, his hand still guiding me as we made our way toward the back of the bar. The noise from the main area faded slightly as we approached a velvet curtain, which Luca swept aside to reveal a private section, separated from the rest of the bar but still within earshot of the muted chatter outside.

"Here," he said, guiding me to a small, intimate table tucked away in the corner. The seating was luxurious, the space dimly lit by a single, low-hanging light that cast long shadows across the room. Despite the separation, the sounds from the bar outside were still present, though softened to a dull hum.

A waiter appeared almost immediately, and Luca ordered without hesitation. "A Maccallan, neat," he said for himself, then turned to me, his gaze intense. "Water for my guest. I want to make sure she remains comfortable."

His words were smooth, almost too smooth, but they carried an edge that set me on alert. The implication was clear—whatever we were about to discuss, Luca wanted me sharp, unable to blame my actions on the haze of alcohol.

I raised an eyebrow at the insinuation, meeting his gaze head-on. "I think I'll take a glass of cabernet to go with that water," I said evenly, my tone challenging but measured. If Luca was trying to rattle me, I wasn't about to let him succeed.

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving us alone in the shadowy booth. Luca leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving mine as he studied me with that same ominous intensity.

"I'm glad you agreed to come," he said after a moment, his voice low and steady. "There's a lot we need to discuss."

"I'm sure there is," I replied, keeping my tone neutral despite the nervous flutter in my chest. "But I'm still not sure why we couldn't have had this conversation somewhere less... dramatic."

Luca smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "This place is special. It's quiet enough for what we need to discuss, but it also reminds me of the world I come from. The world you might not fully understand."

I tilted my head slightly, my curiosity piqued despite myself. "And what world is that, Luca?"

"The world of power, Catalina," he said softly, his eyes darkening. "The kind that moves in shadows, where deals are made over drinks and lives are changed with a single decision. It's a world you've only glimpsed at, but it's one that's always been a part of my life."

The way he spoke sent a chill down my spine. I had known there was more to Luca than he let on, but hearing him talk like this—so openly, so unapologetically—was unsettling. It was as if he was pulling back a curtain, revealing a side of himself that he had kept hidden until now.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Everything," he replied, leaning in closer. "You're in this world now, whether you realize it or not. And I need to know that I can trust you, that you won't run at the first sign of trouble."

The waiter returned with our drinks, and I took a sip of the wine, letting the rich, dark liquid steady my nerves. Luca watched me, his expression unreadable, waiting for my response.

"What exactly are you asking, Luca?" I said finally, setting my glass down and meeting his gaze with a steady one of my own.

"I'm asking you to stay," he said simply, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "To see this through, no matter where it leads."

The weight of his words hung in the air, thick with unspoken implications. I knew this was more than just a request to stay on as his attorney. This was about stepping into a world I had only brushed against, a world that was darker and more dangerous than I had ever imagined.

"I don't know if I can do that," I admitted, the truth slipping out before I could stop it.

"You can," Luca said, his voice firm but not unkind. "And you will. Because you're already in too deep to walk away now."

He was right, of course. I had known it the moment I agreed to meet him tonight, the moment I stepped into this bar. But hearing him say it out loud, in that dark, shadowy room, made it all the more real.

I picked up my glass of wine, the weight of the decision settling over me like a heavy cloak. I had a choice to make—walk away and leave this world behind, or step fully into it, consequences be damned.

As I took another sip, I knew I had already made my decision.