Chapter Thirty: Lucia's pov

After the surreal moments of them laying in each other's arms had passed, Lucia sat on the edge of Andretti’s desk, her fingers absently tracing the smooth wood beneath her. Her pulse still thrumming from what just happened, but she watched him, the way he’s trying to regain his composure. He’s not the Andretti most people see—the Mafia boss, the man who commands fear with a glance. Here, alone with her, there’s something raw in his eyes, something vulnerable he was trying hard to mask.

He leaned back in his chair, the shadows playing across his face. "Lucia, this was... different," he says, his voice quieter than usual.

Different. She almost laughed at the word, but she didn't Instead, she lets a small smile curl at the edges of her lips. "Different how?" She knows exactly what he means, but she wants him to say it.

His jaw tightened, and she sees him struggling, trying to find the right words. "You know what I mean, I'm starting to realize that my feelings for you would never go