What We Left in the Dark

Thirty Four

Luca hustles her down to his car, a sleek, nondescript black sedan that blended into the shadows. Cat quickly slides into the passenger seat, and without a word, Luca slams the door behind her and gets behind the wheel. The engine roars to life, and they speed off into the night.

"Where are we going?" Cat asks, her voice tight with unease.

"Upstate," Luca replies, his tone short and focused. "Somewhere discreet while Giancarlo handles things."

Cat exhales at the mention of his brother's name, her chest tightening with a mix of worry and confusion. "Is he okay?" she asks.

Luca's eyes flick to her briefly before returning to the road. "He's fine. More worried about avenging you."

"Avenging me?" Cat repeats, her eyebrows knitting together in disbelief.

"Yes," Luca says, his voice softening. "He's furious someone dared to incite violence near you."

Cat doesn't respond, but a bitter thought creeps into her mind. Giancarlo incensed by violence? How hypocritical, she thinks, remembering how he too had been armed at the gala. Her stomach twists, recalling the gun in his hand—a side of him she never expected to see.

Breaking the silence, Luca reaches over, placing a firm hand on the inside of her thigh. It was an intimate gesture, one he had done before, a silent way of comforting her. Cat glances at his hand, and then back at him, noticing the regret etched across his face.

"I'm sorry I brought you there," Luca says, his voice weighed down with guilt. "I thought it would be safe."

The tension in his features is unmistakable, his regret palpable. Cat gently places her hand on top of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You couldn't have known," Cat replies softly. "I know you would never intentionally put me in danger."

Luca's furrowed brow eases, but only slightly. The guilt still lingers in his eyes as he drives on, the silence between them returning as the cityscape fades into the distance.

An hour later, they turn onto a long dirt road, winding deeper into the woods. They arrive at a small, secluded A-frame cabin, hidden away from the world. It's tucked into the forest, concealed from any prying eyes.

"This is... quaint," Cat says as she steps out of the car, the cool night air wrapping around her. "I like it."

Luca nods. "Somewhere no one can find us."

They enter the cabin, and while its exterior was modest, the inside was a stark contrast—sleek, modern furnishings filled the space, and large windows offered a breathtaking view of the forest beyond.

Cat's curiosity gets the best of her as she climbs the narrow staircase along the living room wall. Above the living area, a loft with a single bedroom sits, its design minimalist but elegant. Luca follows her, his eyes scanning the space.

"I can take the couch tonight," Luca offers.

Cat nods, not wanting to protest. They both descend the stairs and settle on the couch, the forest beyond the windows casting long shadows as the dusk deepens into night.

As they sit in the growing darkness, the conversation shifts to the gala, and Luca fills her in on the new information he and Giancarlo have gathered. The gala, it seemed, had been a planned ambush—a calculated move to target one of the Ricci brothers. It wasn't yet clear who was behind it, but their network was already working to trace the source.

"They didn't come after me directly," Luca says, his jaw tightening. "But having you there, that was a mistake. They saw an opening."

"They saw me as leverage," Cat realizes, her heart sinking.

Luca nods. "Exactly. They wanted to rattle us, and it almost worked."

"You should get some rest," Luca says softly, his eyes scanning her face with concern. "You've been through enough."

Cat shakes her head. "I haven't slept well all weekend. I'll be fine."

Luca doesn't argue. Instead, he motions with his fingers, beckoning her closer, his expression unreadable.

Curious, Cat slides across the couch toward him. He pats his lap gently, inviting her to sit. She nestles between Luca's thighs, feeling the warmth of his body behind her. 

Luca's hands find their way to her shoulders, gently kneading the muscles . His touch was strong yet soothing, and she could feel the tension slowly seeping out of her body.

Her head tilts back slightly, leaning into him as his hands travel to the back of her neck, massaging the tight knots away before his fingers disappear into her hair, rubbing firm circles around her scalp. His breath is warm against her ear when he whispers, "I would never put you in danger, Cat. I'm so sorry."

His voice cracks, and she turns her head, her eyes catching his. To her surprise, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

Cat pivots her body, sitting sideways on his lap as she reaches up and gently cradles his face in her hands.

"Luca," she whispers, her tone soft but firm. "None of this was your fault. You couldn't have known. You and Gian did everything you could to protect me. I'm grateful for that."

Luca closes his eyes briefly, as if savoring her words, then leans in and places a gentle kiss on her forehead. Cat's heart swells, and without thinking, she begins to lean forward, her lips ready to meet his in a real kiss—when the front door slams open.

In an instant, Luca pushes Cat to the floor, shielding her body with his own. He stands, ready to confront whatever danger had just burst through the door.

Cat's heart races as she peeks over the back of the couch, her breath catching in her throat when she sees the figure standing in the doorway—Giancarlo, his clothes splattered with blood.

She gasps. The sight of him, disheveled and dangerous, is almost too much to process. And then, the detail that makes her blood run cold: Gian has a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, his fingers resting too close to the handle. Tears well in Cat's eyes as she stares at him, the weight of who he has become crashing down on her like a tidal wave. The man she once loved now stood before her, drenched in blood, a weapon at the ready.

Gian's eyes lock on hers, and for a moment, it feels like time stops. The love, the regret, the fury—it's all there, burning behind his gaze.