CHAPTER SIX
Bella's POV
"Bells!" Ava exclaimed from the hallway immediately Luca was gone, rushing in with wide eyes. "I saw a shadow of him. Was... that him? Was that the guy? OH MY GOD IT WAS, WASN'T IT?!" She shut the door dramatically. "Girl. GIRL. What the hell...how is he even real? And why does he look like he bites?"
I groaned loudly, falling onto the couch. "Ava, please. Not now."
She flopped beside me, eyes shining like a toddler at Christmas. "Bella, he is...my God...like...like if sin took human form. And he came to your house looking like that. And he wants to fake-marry you? Babe... babe...this is destiny!"
"It is insanity," I snapped immediately while rolling my eyes in exasperation.
"Destiny," she corrected.
I shot her a glare. "Do you not remember what happened today? I caught Ethan cheating. I humiliated myself. I proposed to a total stranger. I went viral. I cried so hard my eyes might fall out. And now some... mafia-looking, storm-eyed mafia boss wants to drag me into a PR stunt that could ruin my entire life."
Ava blinked hard at that. "You think he's mafia?"
"Have you seen him?" I flung my hands up in frustration and cried out. "No normal civilian looks like that."
"Fair point," Ava whispered, nodding solemnly. Then her eyes lit again. "But babe... maybe this is fate."
I stared at her. "Ava. I am done with fate. Done. Done with men. Done with love. Done with everything. I am retiring from romance. Permanently."
"Oh please," she laughed. "You're a romance novelist's dream."
"I am a cautionary tale," I corrected. "And I want nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with love again."
She sighed dramatically, looping her arm through mine. "Fine. No love. But you have to admit... he's sexy."
I groaned and buried my face in a pillow. "I want to die."
"You can die," she said, rubbing my shoulder. "But not tonight. Because we need ice cream."
I almost smiled at that. Almost.
***
The next night though, everything changed.
I got home from my shift at the company where I saw working as a marketing consultant, juggling my bag, keys, and a pack of ramen, only to stop dead in the hallway.
My door was slightly open.
My heart dropped to my toes.
I pushed it gently. It creaked.
The lights were off. The air felt wrong-disturbed, invaded, cold.
My stomach twisted painfully as I stepped inside.
My living room was a mess-my drawers open, magazines tossed onto the floor, cushions flipped over. Everything.
Panic clawed up my throat.
"Ava?" I called weakly, hoping to hell that she was not around.
Nothing.
I rushed to my desk.
My laptop was gone.
Gone.
My pulse went wild. "No, no, no, no-"
Then, my phone buzzed.
It was a new message from an unknown number: You shouldn't have met him.
My chest constricted even as I saw another message and read: Walk away while you still can.
I stumbled backward, hand trembling so violently the phone nearly fell.
There was a third message: You're in danger because of him. Watch your back.
I sank onto the couch, breath coming in fast, shallow bursts.
This wasn't just heartbreak.
This wasn't just humiliation.
This was danger.
Real. Tangible. Close.
My phone vibrated again and this time, I was so scared to look.
I sighed deeply and braced myself to read.
I am outside.-L.
Furrowing my brows in surprise, I checked my windows to see a black car idled at the curb.
The car was sleek, expensive, silent.
My heart thudded in my chest as I looked at it.
I shook my head at myself for being surprised about this in the first place.
I mean, if he could know my place easily yesterday, then he could get my phone number in the blink of an eye.
The back door opened slowly and my blood ran cold as Luciano stepped out.
He looked like midnight had dressed him with his black coat, black gloves and black expression.
In between the window, our eyes locked. And instantly, as if something in me was being prophetic, I knew what he was coming for.
Immediately, I shook my head and said, "No...no, no, no-"
He lifted a hand in a calm, steady manner. It was a gesture saying 'come here'.
But I couldn't move.
Another text buzzed in my hand. I turned to look at the message: He can't protect you forever.
My breath froze as I read the message.
Luciano's jaw flexed when he saw my pale face, the shaking in my hands.
"Bella," he said from the doorway of the car, his voice low and dangerous even through the distance, "get in."
"I-I don't-"
"Now."
Fear surged through me. But not of him but
of whatever had broken into my home, had stolen my laptop and had sent those messages.
Whatever he meant when he said trouble had my name.
I swallowed hard, heart pounding so violently it hurt.
Then I grabbed my coat, shoved my keys into my pocket, and stepped outside.
The cold slapped me hard even as I noticed that his men were not around.
Luciano held the car door open. His gray eyes were no longer unreadable and they were holding something far worse. It was something I didn't want to think about.
I hesitated only a second.
Then I climbed in.
I didn't look back.
I couldn't.
Because somehow, I knew
I wasn't stepping into danger.
I was already in it.
And Luciano Moretti...
He was the only one who knew why.
