Can you damage someone beyond repair?
Luca plays his role as the loyal underboss. Violent, lethal, flawless. The lapdog, the starboy.
On the surface, he maintains his facade of smirks and casual charm, but beneath the mask, thereʼs a profound dark...
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IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT, AND I’M trying to study, but I can’t focus. There’s still a dull throb at my temple, a reminder of the horrible hangover I had this morning.
It keeps washing over me.
The tequila, and the rush that came with it. Spin the bottle. Almost kissing Joey Cavalli even though I didn’t really want to. Strong arms coming around me and blood rushing to my head as he turned my world upside down, literally.
His hands, hot on my skin.
Walking away from him, saying mean things, and sort of feeling good about it.
Oh my god.
I bit him.
I want to die.
Like, actually die.
It doesn’t really matter anyway, cause Luca Costa is going to kill me. I’m sure of it. There’s no way he’s going to let me get away with everything I said and did to him last night.
The image flashes in my mind—the grass beneath me, cool and damp against my bare legs as I laid in it, feeling the world spin and tilt. My head was so heavy, and everything around me felt soft, muffled.
Then he was there—Luca. His shadow fell over me, blocking out the hazy glow of the streetlight, and I felt his hands on me, firm and steady. He leaned down, his body hovering over mine, and he held me in place. His fingers grazed my legs as he slid off my heels, the sharp pressure from the straps finally disappearing.
I had no strength to fight him—not that I wanted to. He scooped me up, lifting me like I weighed nothing. My body felt so light, like I could float away if he let go. His chest was warm against my side, and I clung to him, burying my face into his neck without thinking.
I remember the car, the wind rushing in as the roof came down, my hair flying behind me, the cool night air flooding my senses. Freedom. I could hear the buzz of the engine, the hum of the music, and I think I smiled, just for a second.
I don’t remember much after that, just the feeling of his body under mine, the warmth of him as I rested my head on his shoulder. His hand slid through my hair, and I let the exhaustion pull me under, falling asleep against him, feeling oddly safe despite everything.
Flustered, I toss the pen in my hand aside.
It’s useless. I’m not getting any work done.
I slip into my bed, under my sheets and stare up at the ceiling. My heart is still racing for reasons I can’t pin down, wishing sleep would take over fast.
I close my eyes, and play back the last bit of the hazy memory.
The scent of cedar and smoke filled my senses. Strong arms around me, warm and steady, cradling me like I weighed nothing. A rough grip under my thighs and around my back, his touch firm yet gentle.
