I couldn't bear staying in the same place as Hazel. I wasn't going to stay in Los Angeles, not with her going back home. But before I left, I needed to give the press something. I had checked my phone earlier, and the headlines weren't doing good things for my company. I needed to control the narrative, to at least appear in control. I arrived at the company, grabbing a few things and doing some work. I could hear the crowd outside, trying to get answers from one of my men, who I had told to act as my personal assistant. I decided to close off the office and get this whole thing over with. I walked out, and there they were, waiting at the front door. I was ready to speak to them. I was tired of this, tired of the whispers and the drama. "Due to the recent allegations made by my fellow businessman, Dmitri," I said, my gaze unwavering. "Rossi Enterprise will be temporarily shutting down while I clear my name and address these claims. To our investors and partners, I understand
Luca's POV The cigarette smoke filled the air, a swirling cloud that seemed to mimic the chaos in my mind. As I inhaled, a strange feeling washed over me, a prickle of unease that I couldn't ignore. I had a feeling that Dmitri knew where I was. Maybe some of his men were on their way. I was psychic sometimes, a weird sixth sense that had saved me more than once. I didn’t want to cause a scene at the hotel. I decided to pick up my things and leave. I got inside my car and drove to a more secluded area. There was an abandoned house, a place I had been to before. It was perfect for hiding, for waiting. I arrived at the house, a crumbling, ramshackle structure that had seen better days. But it was quiet, hidden away from prying eyes. I could disappear here, wait for them to come to me. I waited patiently, listening for any sound, any hint of movement. It was a game of cat and mouse, and I was the mouse, waiting for the cat to make its move. The tension was thick, almost suffocating
I opened the door to Luca's room, and there he was, Lorenzo, the big guy Marco had appointed to watch over me. He was still in front of the door as always, a silent guardian. I felt a strange sense of security around him, almost like he was... well, I wasn't sure how to describe it. But all through, he'd been nice, never threatening, never making me feel uncomfortable. Marco wouldn't have entrusted me to him if he didn't trust him, that much was certain. After all, Marco had sworn that if anything happened to me and Luca came back and found me in pain, Luca was going to kill him. So, he was careful. Very careful.But even with that reassurance, a nagging feeling of unease lingered. There was something about Lorenzo, a vibe, a subtle shift in his presence that made me question his true intentions. It wasn't anything concrete, just a feeling, a prickling at the back of my neck that suggested he wasn't as pure as he seemed. He was just... off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it
Luca's POVThe rage was a firestorm inside me, consuming everything. It was the kind of fire that burned hotter with every drop of blood spilled, every breath stolen. I shot back at the man who almost ended me, a guttural roar escaping my lips. The bullet slammed into his ribs, not a fatal wound, but enough to immobilize him. He crumpled to the floor, a pained groan escaping him. I dragged him, a dead weight, under the bed, praying he wouldn't lose consciousness. He was a prisoner now, a pawn in my game of survival.The sounds of gunfire erupted, echoing through the desolate house. They came in waves, each one a deafening roar that vibrated through my bones. I felt the sting of another bullet, this time in my left arm, a sharp, hot pain that quickly dissolved into a dull ache. I tasted metal in my mouth, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. But I didn't falter. I squeezed my eyes shut, the blood pulsing in my ear, and shot. One man went down, his skull splatter against the wall,
Lena's POV The world was a blurry, painful mess. My eyelids felt like lead weights, the pressure of them pushing down on my eyes, but I knew I had to fight to open them. My head throbbed, each beat of pain echoing through my skull. I finally managed to pry them open a sliver, the world coming into focus slowly. Moonlight filtered through a high window, casting long, distorted shadows on the rough stone walls. I was sitting on the cold, hard ground, my legs stretched out in front of me. I tried to move my hands, but I felt a sickening tightness, a binding sensation. Panic began to claw its way up my throat. My wrists were tied, my legs too. A wave of confusion washed over me. Where was I? Why was I tied up? What happened? I remembered being on a walk with Lorenzo,..... And that's when it clicked. Lorenzo had betrayed us together with some other men. He had drugged me and now I was here. Desperation seized me. I tried to wiggle my wrists free, pulling at the ropes with every
The voice of the pilot droning on about our imminent landing broke through the fog of my semi-conscious state. I stirred, a dull ache pulsing through my head. I wasn't in a coma. Not yet, anyway. I was strung out, yes, but alive. The weariness was a heavy weight in my limbs, a constant reminder of the shots I'd taken. My muscles felt raw, every movement a painful protest. Exhausted, but with a surge of adrenaline fueling me, I stood up. I had work to do. I had to teach these fuckers a lesson. Teach them not to fuck with the Rossi's again. I shuffled over to the small fridge in my room and grabbed a bottle of vodka. I downed it in one go, the burn a welcome distraction from the throbbing in my head. I was playing with my health, I knew, but I had to get my head straight.I dug through my first aid kit, my eyes fixed on the wound on my arm. I knew it wasn't a bullet, not really, but it felt like it. I needed to know what it was. I found the tweezers, the steel cold and sharp against m
Luca's POVThe anger simmered through me, a molten core threatening to erupt. I grabbed Marco’s shirt, my fingers digging into the fabric. "How the fuck did she get kidnapped? Where was she going? Where the fuck were you?"Marco slapped my hand away, his eyes blazing. "Don't fucking touch me. If you hadn't left, or maybe you had the decency to tell any of us where you were going, or carried her along with you to make sure she was safe, she wouldn't have been crying her eyes out and then decided to go for a walk with that fucking traitor, Lorenzo." "What were you doing? Where the fuck were you, Marco? You know how much she fucking means to me."“I don’t know shit. You should own up to your girl and not expect me to do it. Or what the fuck did you expect me to do? Play babysitter and have tea with her? You can't protect what you care about and expect me to do it? You’re fucking crazy,” Marco said, his voice cold and cutting. He shoved past me and headed for the office.I followed him,
Lena's POVThe icy water slammed into my face, jolting me awake. My eyes flew open, and I met the smug smirk of Dmitri Sidorov. His face, a mask of cruelty, hovered inches from mine as he roughly sat me upright, his arms pinning me against the cold, hard floor. The moment his grip loosened, I crumpled back down, a choked sob escaping my lips. I couldn't sit up straight, I was too weak, too tired….. I was fucking ready to die. "Sit up right, bitch," he snarled, his voice laced with contempt. But I couldn't. My body, bruised and battered, felt like it was made of lead. My stomach ached with every breath, a dull throb reminding me of the last kick he'd delivered."Владимир, ты и Игорь должны прийти сюда прямо сейчас. Эта сука не может даже сидеть прямо, и вы заставите её, вы, черт возьми, дотронетесь до неё и получите от неё ответы для меня." Dmitri’s voice, cold and ruthless, cut through the air as he barked into his phone. A few minutes later, the distinct sound of heavy boots echoed
Luca's POV I moved to the car where Dmitri was sitting, his face pale and drawn. I entered the back seat and slid beside him. “Turn on the back lights,” I said to the driver, Matteo. He complied, the soft glow illuminating Dmitri’s face. I looked into his eyes, and even though he tried to hide it, I could see the fear simmering beneath the surface. He had a tough exterior, but under it all, he was just a broken man. And when his gaze met mine, he saw it – the reflection of his own brokenness in my eyes, that I was willing to show. I smirked at him, relishing the fear I saw etched on his face. He should’ve known better than to mess with me. “Dmitri, if you fuck this up, you know how bad it can get?,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. He tried to maintain his composure, but his eyes darted around nervously. He was a fish out of water, trying to appear menacing but failing miserably. I could see the fear dancing in his eyes, a pathetic attempt to appear tough. “It’s a question,
Luca's POV From the corner of my eye, I saw Ricardo talking to Lena, and they were heading out. I knew Ricardo was up to no good. I felt Marco’s hand on my shoulder, and I turned to him. “You should go after your girl before he falls in love with her too and you blow off and pull a trigger on him,” Marco said, a smug smirk on his face, clearly trying to irritate me. I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face so badly, but I held back. I was going to be a better man- for Lena. “I’m sorry for what I said and how I acted earlier,” I said, my tone calm and measured. Marco looked taken aback for a moment, his smirk faltering, before regaining his composure. I stuck my tongue out at him in my head. Yeah, Marco. Take that, I'm grown now. He straightened his suit, facing me fully. “Are you not going out today?” “No, I want to spend the day with Lena.” “Well, I’m sorry too – I didn’t mea–” “I know.” “Fucking let me finish,” Marco said, his voice laced with annoyance. “I didn’t mean
Lena's POV I woke up with a smile already spreading across my face. Thankfully, I was still nestled in Luca's arms, his strong, warm body a comforting weight against mine. I traced his jawline with my fingers, admiring the sharp angles and the soft curve of his cheek. His lashes, impossibly long and dark, cast a shadow across his face, a subtle reminder of his undeniable beauty."Buongiorno, bellissima," he murmured, his voice deep and husky with sleep. His Italian accent, thick and unmistakable, was like velvet against my skin. A perfect man with so many flaws. I was hopelessly, helplessly in love with him.(Good morning, beautiful)His eyes flew open, and those beautiful green orbs locked onto mine. He pulled me closer, his hand spanking my butt playfully."Luca!!" I squealed, giggling."Mmm, how are you feeling today?" he asked, his voice a low purr."Honestly, I don't feel bad. I felt a little bit of pain and discomfort the first day I woke up, but I feel good now. Not too good,
Lena's POVThe water rippled around me, a cool contrast to the firestorm raging within. My legs were jelly, shaking as I tried to catch my breath. My legs trembled, not from the cold, but from the aftershocks of the incredible release I'd just experienced. Luca. I was on cloud nine, in the seventh heaven, my legs felt so weak."That... that was..." I struggled to find the words, my voice a breathless whisper. "Thank you.""Lena," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "Yes?""Don't worry about it," he murmured, his eyes glinting with something I couldn't quite decipher. "It will even be better later on. I'll do things..." He trailed off, muttering to himself, and a jolt of anticipation shot through me."What do you me-" My question was cut short as his warm lips found mine. I melted into the kiss, the world fading away around us. This kiss was different, softer, a silent conversation of love and need. It was everything our words couldn't express. He pulled back, our foreheads touching,
Luca's POVI felt her lips trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The way she moved, her hands tracing patterns on my inked chest, it was driving me insane, like she was marking herself on me. The way she moaned, a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine... Fuck!!! That sound. It was like a siren call, pulling me deeper and deeper into this dangerous, intoxicating game. I knew I should pull away, but I was helpless against her touch, against the way she was driving me wild.I pulled her back, needing to see her face, to see the lust burning in her eyes. "Lena," I rasped, my voice rough with need, "I just might fuck you if you keep on doing this.""I want that, Papa," she breathed, her voice husky with a desperate edgeWhat the fuck?I knew Lena was wild, freaky, a force of nature. But this... this was different. It was raw, insatiable, primal, and it scared me a little. The way she said "Papa," it sent a jolt of something... something primal and dan
Luca's POV Lena's bratty behavior was seriously starting to get on my nerves. I needed her to stop. I had fucked up, yes, I knew that. I didn't need her constantly reminding me of it. Seeing the pain in her eyes, the bruises on her body, was damage enough. The bandage on her head, the paleness of her skin, they were constant reminders of what I had allowed to happen, constant reminders of my failures. Three weeks of watching her unconscious body lay motionless wasn't a joke. “Take. Off your clothes,” I said, my voice rough with exhaustion. She didn’t move, didn’t even attempt to do it. I didn’t have the strength for this, for her stubborn defiance. I decided to do it myself. I half expected her to push me away, but she didn’t, so I continued, pulling up her pajama shirt, the baggy fabric revealing the bruises that marred her skin. Rage flared through me. They were healed, but the scars were still visible and I could tell she still felt the pain, a visual representation of the violen
Lena's POVThe morning light, a pale, watery sun, crept through the gauzy curtains, a stark contrast to the darkness that had held me captive the previous night before Luca came. I stretched, reaching out for Luca, but my hand found empty space. A coldness, both physical and emotional, swept through me. The bed, still warm from his presence just moments before, was now cold and empty.My fingers traced the indentations left by his body as a wave of anger, sadness, and worry crashed over me. He never got enough rest, always rushing around, fixing things, making sure everyone was alright. He was going to burn himself out, fall sick and maybe die. And he'd left without even waking me, not letting me see his face before he went. The door creaked open, and a maid entered, carrying a tray with food. "Good morning, madam," she said, her voice quiet and deferential. She placed the tray on the bedside table, then dropped it with a clatter. "Don Rossi says you should make sure you eat the foo
Lena's POVThe scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of the life support machines were all I could focus on as I lay in the bed, my head throbbing with a dull ache. Marco and Ricardo were in the room, their presence filling the sterile air with a strange mix of tension and relief.Ricardo, Luca’s cousin, was surprisingly nice. He had a gentle smile that seemed to soften the sharp edges of the room. Marco, on the other hand, was his usual, infuriating self, treating me like a fragile doll, his little sister. Ricardo was fine too, he was so fine. All of them in their family are too fine, but then again nobody got close enough to Luca. His apology, delivered with an air of concern, rang hollow. It was a simple “I’m sorry,” devoid of any real emotion. The time I spent with them, after the nurse had left, was almost peaceful. It was a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside me. But there was one person who occupied my thoughts relentlessly. Luca.He was the one I thought about, the
Luca's POVThe sterile white of the room felt like a prison, a stark contrast to the vibrant life that usually filled Lena. The bandage wrapped around her head, the paleness of her skin, the absence of her usual sparkle – it was all a stark reminder of the impulsive actions I had taken. I had been so stupid, so caught up in my own world that I had let my pride get the best of me. Now, sitting by her side, watching her sleep, I was drowning in a sea of regret. My thumb rubbed soothing circles on her hand, a repetitive action that had become my nightly ritual for the past three weeks. Three weeks since she came back, the guilt gnawing at my insides. Every night, I sat here, whispering promises and apologies into her unconscious ear, hoping she could feel the sincerity in my voice, the desperation in my touch. The doctors had told me she needed time, that her brain was still healing, but every second that ticked by without her eyes opening felt like an eternity. Every day, the doctors