𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘟 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵
𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓃𝑜 𝒩𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓈 𝒟𝑒 𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒶 is known as the head of the De Luca mafia, a man whose name strikes fear across the criminal underworld. R...
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⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙♡☼⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙
The familiar warmth of our home embraced me as I stepped inside the master bedroom, the faint scent of roses and candles still lingering from the night before. It was a small reminder of how much had changed in such a short time. Life had taken on a new rhythm—one where safety wasn't guaranteed, and yet, Luciano's quiet presence made me feel more protected than ever.
He'd tightened security after recent events. Guards now stood watch outside, and cameras monitored every corner of the estate. It was both comforting and suffocating. Luciano claimed it was for practical reasons—he was a man of logic, after all—but deep down, I knew the truth. He cared, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud.
The room was bathed in soft morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I walked to the mirror, unzipping my overnight bag to pull out fresh clothes for the day. My hands smoothed over the light denim jeans I'd chosen, their high-waisted design hugging my frame comfortably. I paired them with a sleek black bodysuit—a dupe I'd picked up online that looked far more expensive than it was. The fabric stretched snugly over my torso, accentuating my figure without feeling too revealing.
To add a touch of flair, I grabbed a cropped mini jacket, its soft leather texture contrasting against the simple outfit. I slipped it on and stepped back, letting my gaze travel over my reflection. My hair fell in soft waves around my shoulders, the dark strands catching the morning sun. Makeup didn't feel necessary today; I wanted to look natural, like myself.
As I adjusted the jacket, something in the mirror caught my attention. Or rather, someone.
Luciano was still in bed, his broad shoulders and toned chest bare, the sheets pooling around his waist. His dark hair was tousled from sleep, a strand falling onto his forehead in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome. Even in his most relaxed state, there was something commanding about him—something that made it impossible to look away.
I smirked, turning slightly toward him. "Like what you see?" I teased, my tone light and playful.
He arched a single brow, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. "Always."
