THE SOUNDS OF THE CAFETERIA hum around us—clinking trays, bursts of laughter, and footsteps echoing on tiled floors. Adriana’s voice weaves through the noise, light and effervescent as she animatedly describes plans for the Halloween party this Friday. I’m trying to listen, but her words turn into a distant murmur, like waves washing over sand.
The ache rooted deep in my chest claws its way up, pressing against my lungs.
I’m just messing around with her.
God, you’re so pretty, baby.
It doesn’t mean anything.
So goddamn pretty.
“Wren?” Adriana’s voice sharpens, breaking through the fog. Her brow furrow, eyes darting over my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I blink hard and try to swallow the achy knot at my throat, but it’s useless. The world narrows to the hot trail the tears leave as they slide down my cheeks.
“It’s clearly something,” she says, her brows meeting as she reaches over to tug on my blazer. “Tell me.”
The pressure in my chest shatters, and the words tumble out. As I recount the events of Friday night, Adriana’s expression sharpens, the light in her eyes turning to flint. When I get to the part that’s been eating at me for the past two days, she says, “What? Why the hell would he say something like that?”
I shrug. My gaze drifts over her shoulder, snagging on a figure at the far end of the space. Luca’s in his usual spot next to Joey.
I know he’s angry— it’s in the tense line of his broad shoulders, in the dark glint that flashes when our eyes meet briefly. I left his place without a word, and I’ve been ignoring his calls.
“Hey.” A shadow falls over the table. I glance up to see Andrew, his expression soft. “Are you okay?”
Adriana sighs. “She’s clearly not okay, Andrew. Don’t make a scene.”
A crease forms between his brows. “What do you mean don’t make a scene? She’s crying, Adriana.”
Before she can respond, Andrew steps in closer, pressing my head gently to his torso, as he pats my hair a little.
A sharp sound cuts through the cafeteria —a chair scraping hard against the floor.
The chatter around us ceases, heads turning like a wave to the source.
Luca’s eyes are locked on our table, stormy and unreadable.
The whole cafeteria goes silent as he closes the distance between us in a few long strides. My heart floats up to my throat.
Luca stops just inches away from Andrew, his jaw set. “Back up,” he says. The threat beneath his voice drips like poison. “Back the fuck up and don’t touch her.”
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Wreck | 18+
RomanceCan 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...