Chapter 11

Isadora

A few weeks had passed since the attack, and life had taken on a strange new normal. Luca had enrolled me in self-defense classes, though I wasn’t sure if it was for my protection or just his peace of mind. My two former bodyguards had been replaced by new ones, both of whom looked like they could kill with just a glare. And then there was Rafael who was always there, always watching, like a shadow I couldn’t shake. He wasn’t exactly fun, but I’d caught him smiling more than once when he was around Laura. Maybe she was softening him up.

With finals just a few weeks away, most of my time was spent studying. Luca, despite his... unconventional line of work, had been surprisingly helpful. Whenever he wasn’t busy running the Mafia, he’d sit with me and help me prepare. He’d even tutor me on the parts of business law that made my head spin, his sharp mind and patient demeanor catching me off guard. It was almost easy to forget who he really was when he’d show up with blankets and snacks while I studied in the library late into the night.

The rumors about him killing his first wife had started to feel more distant, more like someone else’s story. Staying with him, seeing how he treated me, it didn’t match up with the terrifying image people painted of him. With me, he was kind. Patient. Sweet, even.

And then yesterday, he asked me out on a date.

It was... adorable, in a way that almost made me forget the strange and complicated circumstances of our relationship. Almost. Because no matter how soft his eyes got when he looked at me, there was still that undeniable truth: Luca technically adopted me.

It was a fact I tried not to dwell on, but the thought lingered, always in the back of my mind.

I'd blocked the unknown number that sent me the first text but different numbers kept texting me, warning me against Luca.

The texts came at random times, always from unknown numbers.

“He’s dangerous. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“You’re just another pawn to him. Don’t be fooled.”

“Get out while you can.”

I blocked each number as they came, but the messages kept finding their way to me. At first, I told myself it was nothing just someone trying to mess with me or scare me. But as the warnings continued, the words started to dig their way under my skin.

They made me question everything.

Luca hadn’t given me any reason to doubt him. He’d been kind, protective, and... surprisingly vulnerable when he let his guard down. But these texts, they weren’t random. Someone clearly wanted me to know something.

I’d tried ignoring them, but last night, a message hit differently: “Do you really think his first wife was an accident? Ask him about her.”

I hadn’t asked. Not yet. But the thought clung to me like a shadow.

And now, as I sat in Luca’s car on our way to this mystery date, I couldn’t stop my mind from replaying the texts over and over.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my tone light, but inside, my nerves were coiled tight.

“You’ll see,” Luca said, his voice smooth, though his usual confidence seemed to falter for a moment. Was he nervous?

I tried to shake off my paranoia. Luca wasn’t stupid. If someone was trying to manipulate me, he’d probably already know. But what if there was something he wasn’t telling me? What if the warnings weren’t just baseless threats?

By the time we arrived at the rooftop restaurant, I was caught between awe and unease. The place was stunning lit with soft, warm lights that reflected off the skyline. It was empty, just for us, and Luca’s nerves were more obvious now.

“I reserved the whole thing for us,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” I said honestly, but the weight of the texts pulled at the corners of my thoughts.

The date was perfect. Almost too perfect. Luca seemed to notice my quiet moments, the way I’d zone out mid-conversation.

“Something’s on your mind,” he said after a while, leaning forward. “What is it?”

I hesitated, weighing my options. Should I tell him? Confront him about the texts? What if he lied? What if he didn’t?

“It’s nothing,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just... finals stress.”

He studied me for a long moment, and I felt like he could see right through me. But he didn’t press.

As the night went on, we talked, really talked. About childhoods, struggles, and the versions of ourselves we tried to hide from the world. Luca told me more about his father, the abuse he endured, and the way he clawed his way out by taking over.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly. “It was him or me.”

His words hung in the air, and I wondered how many other choices he’d had to make since then.

When it was my turn, I told him about growing up invisible, the way my parents were always too busy to notice me. For a moment, it felt like we were two people without pasts, just... existing in the present.

But as we stood to leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Another text.

“Ask him about Alicia. You deserve to know.”

Is someone watching us right now? My breath hitched, and Luca’s eyes flicked to me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, slipping my phone back into my bag.

His gaze lingered, sharp and unreadable. He didn’t believe me.

As we stepped into the elevator, the tension was palpable. My heart raced, not from the warmth I felt earlier but from the nagging sense that the truth was closing in—whether I was ready for it or not.