Chapter 25: Utterly lost

Elliott

The Next Morning

I woke up to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the blinds, casting streaks of warmth across Luca’s small apartment. My body felt heavy, my limbs tangled with his as we lay in bed, still wrapped in the lingering warmth of the night before.

For a moment, I didn’t want to move, I just wanted to stay in this cocoon of safety, away from the expectations waiting for me at home, but I know I don't have that's luxury.

Luca stirred beside me, his arm tightening around my waist as he murmured something incoherent against my shoulder. I smiled faintly, running a hand through his messy hair.

“You’re awake,” he muttered sleepily, his voice husky from sleep.

“Yeah.” I sighed, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It was past nine, my father was going to be furious.

Luca must have caught the change in my expression because he propped himself up on one elbow, studying me. “You don’t want to go back, do you?”

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face. “Not really.”

“Then don’t.” He traced slow circles on my arm, his touch grounding me. “Stay here for a while. At least until you’re ready to deal with them.”

As tempting as the offer was, I knew I couldn’t. If I didn’t go back soon, my father would only make things worse. “I have to,” I said, reluctantly pulling away from him. “If I don’t, it’ll just give him another excuse to tighten his grip on me.”

Luca frowned but nodded in understanding. He sat up, reaching for his shirt. “Let me at least walk you to the train station.”

I shook my head, forcing a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching mine before he sighed. “Be careful, Elliott.”

“I will.”

Even as I said it, I knew that was a lie.

The house was very quiet when I stepped inside. I barely had time to shut the door before I heard my father’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“Where the hell have you been?”

I flinched but stood my ground as he strode toward me. His face was a mask of anger, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. My mother sat in the living room, watching with a tight-lipped expression, her tea cup frozen midway to her lips. Cecilia, our longtime housekeeper, hovered near the stairs, her eyes widening in concern.

“I was out,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I didn’t realize I had to report my every move.”

My father’s expression darkened. “You disappear all night without a word, and you think you don’t owe an explanation?”

“I’m not a child,” I shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t control every second of my life.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Before I could react, his hand struck the side of my face with a force that sent me stumbling. The pain was immediate,ca sharp, burning sensation radiating from my cheek to my jaw. I barely had time to process it before he grabbed my collar and slammed me against the wall.

“You ungrateful little shit,” he spat. “Everything you have is because of me. And this is how you repay me? By acting like some damn delinquent?”

I gritted my teeth, refusing to let him see the pain in my eyes. “I never asked for any of this.”

His grip tightened, his knuckles pressing into my throat. For a brief second, I thought he might actually choke me, but then he shoved me away with a look of disgust.

“You’re going to marry that girl,” he growled, straightening his tie as if nothing had happened. “Whether you like it or not. And you’re going to start acting like the son of a respectable family.”

I wiped at the blood trickling from the corner of my lip, my breaths shallow. My mother still hadn’t moved from her seat, her eyes glued to the tea in her hands, as if pretending not to see would erase what had just happened.

I turned away from both of them and forced my legs to move toward the staircase.

I barely made it to my room before Cecilia followed, her expression filled with concern. “Sit down, niño,” she murmured, already fetching the first-aid kit.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, even though the throbbing in my jaw told a different story.

Cecilia shot me a knowing look, shaking her head. “You always say that.” She dipped a cotton pad in antiseptic and gently pressed it to the cut on my lip. I hissed at the sting but didn’t pull away.

“I don’t understand why you let him treat you this way,” she said quietly, her brows furrowed as she worked.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Because I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Elliott.” She set the cotton pad aside and met my gaze, her dark eyes full of something I couldn’t quite name. “You just have to be brave enough to take it.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “It’s not that simple.”

She sighed but didn’t press further. Instead, she finished tending to my wounds in silence, her hands careful and practiced.

“Thank you,” I said softly when she was done.

She gave me a sad smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead like she used to when I was a kid. “Be careful, niño. Your father… he won’t let you go easily.”

I knew that all too well.

As she left the room, I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everything settle onto my shoulders. My father wanted me to marry Cecilia. And Luca had no idea what I was dealing with, he thought it was that easy to refuse.

And now I was caught in the middle, torn between my family mess and the life I truly wanted.

For the first time in a long time, I felt utterly lost.