What We Left in the Dark

Twenty

The memory of Giancarlo's unexpected visit lingered in my mind as I sat on the edge of Luca's bed, staring out the window at the city below. The tension that had filled the room when Giancarlo stood so close to me still clung to my skin, the weight of his presence heavy in the air. I had tried to shake it off, to focus on the fact that he was gone, but it wasn't that simple. His words, his touch, the look in his eyes—it all haunted me.

I had just begun to regain some semblance of composure when I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom. I tensed, my heart racing, but then I remembered that Luca had been speaking with Giancarlo. He must have finished whatever conversation they were having.

The door creaked open, and I turned, expecting to see Luca's familiar, comforting face. Relief flooded me when he entered, dressed in a crisp shirt and slacks, clearly ready to head out for the day. But there was a tightness around his eyes, a hint of something that hadn't been there before.

Luca smiled softly as he approached, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I have to head to work," he said, his voice warm but laced with something I couldn't quite place. "Take your time getting ready. My driver will be back in twenty minutes to take you home."

I nodded, still feeling the lingering effects of the morning's events. "Thank you, Luca," I replied quietly, forcing a small smile as I looked up at him.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes searching mine as if trying to gauge how I was really feeling. But whatever he saw, he chose not to push. Instead, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and straightened up, heading for the door. "I'll see you later," he said, glancing back at me before disappearing down the hallway.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The room felt too empty now, too quiet. I didn't want to linger in this space any longer, not with the memories of Giancarlo's visit still fresh in my mind.

I quickly got out of bed, dressing in the clothes I had worn the day before. The morning felt surreal, the past few hours blending together in a way that made it hard to differentiate what was real from what was imagined. The scent of Luca's cologne still lingered in the room, but it did little to ease the unease gnawing at my insides.

By the time Luca's driver arrived, I was ready to leave. I slipped into the backseat of the car, leaning my head against the cool glass as we made our way to my apartment. The ride was smooth, but my thoughts were anything but. The memory of Giancarlo's hardened face, the tension in his jaw, and the way his eyes had burned into mine all replayed in vivid detail, each thought more unsettling than the last.

When I arrived home, I rushed to the shower, hoping the warm water would wash away the tension, the confusion, the remnants of the encounter that still clung to my skin. But as the water poured over me, all I could think about was Giancarlo.

He had changed so much in the few short years since I'd last seen him. He was undeniably more attractive now, his once boyish charm replaced by something darker, more dangerous. While Luca's features were sharp and polished, a reflection of his control and sophistication, Giancarlo's were rugged, more primal. His presence was a warning sign, screaming "proceed with caution," but there was a thrill in that danger, a pull that I couldn't quite shake.

I cursed under my breath, leaning against the cool tiles of the shower as the water cascaded around me. What the hell am I thinking? I wasn't with either brother, and yet here I was, comparing them, letting my mind wander down paths that were better left unexplored.

I forced myself to focus, reminding myself of the reality of the situation. Luca liked me, had made it clear he wanted to protect me. Giancarlo, on the other hand, hated me—his anger and bitterness had been palpable, simmering just beneath the surface of every word he spoke. There was no future with either of them, no matter how enticing the thought might be. I had to remember that.

With a sigh, I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself as I moved through the motions of getting ready for work. But even as I dressed and did my makeup, my thoughts kept drifting back to Giancarlo, to the way he had looked at me, the way he had spoken to me. He was a storm waiting to break, and I couldn't help but feel that I was standing directly in its path.

Focus, Cat, I told myself firmly, pushing the thoughts away as I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. But no matter how hard I tried, the memory of that morning lingered, a constant reminder that my past was far from buried—and that the Ricci brothers were very much a part of my present.

And as I made my way to work, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.