028

Caterina.

What was that blinding light?

Fuck.

My head felt heavy, my limbs sluggish as if my body had sunk deep into the mattress and decided it preferred staying there.

My fingers curled against the fabric beneath me which for some reason felt familiar making it comforting. It smelled like lavender and something warm..

It smelled like home.

But it wasn't until I shifted, feeling the tightness of the fabric against me that I realized...

I was still in last night’s dress.

What the heck?

I had to take quick, short breaths while blinking hard against the sleep crusting my lashes, turning my head to take in my surroundings. High ceiling, the bookshelf overflowing with untouched books, the dim glow of the bedside lamp I never turned off.

I was home.

Sometime in the chaos of last night, I'd made it back.

"Urghhh. My head." The groggy sigh escaped my lips, forcing myself even more to stay upright while the dress crumpled around me in a mess of wrinkles.

I hope that wouldn't offend Maria.

My feet found the floor, loving the way it was cool against my skin even as my mind kept on lagging behind.

What had happened last night?

The fight. Ethan. Luca.

The last thing I remembered was flipping off Luca through the car window.

Well, that was over now.

I scrubbed a hand over my face and reached for my phone which was on the brink of death. The screen was littered with missed calls and messages, most from Alicia with a few from Maria.

Not a single one from the man I ran away from last night.

Not like I was expecting any.

A different notification caught my eye. A credit alert.

Twenty million dollars.

He sent it.

For a few minutes, I stared at the numbers, half expecting them to disappear, to correct themselves into something reasonable. But they remained, taunting me with those clear, unmistakable digits.

He kept his end of the bargain, but I couldn't help the bitter scoff that escaped from my lips.

I shoved the phone aside and pushed to my feet. Luca Romano could keep his money, his fights, and his stupid possessive tendencies. He wasn’t my problem anymore.

Moving through the apartment, I took in the space I hadn’t truly appreciated in weeks. The smell of vanilla-scented candles still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of old books and fabric softener. The cushions on the couch were still in disarray from the last time I curled up there, the blanket barely clinging to the edge. My plants, thankfully, had survived my absence, their leaves stretching toward the sun as if welcoming me back.

I had missed this.

I had missed the quiet, the way my space felt like mine, untouched by the chaos that seemed to follow Luca like a shadow.

A sudden, sharp chime broke through my moment of peace.

My doorbell.

I wasn't expecting anyone... maybe it was Alicia.

With furrowed brows, I padded to the door, hesitating for just a second before unlocking it. When I pulled it open, a man stood there, a brown paper bag in hand.

Delivery?

“Delivery for you,” he said simply, holding the bag out.

I blinked. “I didn’t order anything.”

The man shrugged, not particularly interested in my confusion. “It’s already paid for.”

I couldn't help my hesitation before reaching out to take it, murmuring a quick thank you so I could disappear back to my space. The scent of warm spices and something savory wafted up, taking over and making my stomach twist in betrayal.

Tied to the handle was a small, folded note.

Eat.

No name, but there didn’t need to be. I knew exactly who sent it.

So now he knew my house. He must have sent people to follow the car I used.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his command, whole setting the bag on the kitchen counter.

Who did he think he was?

I could ignore him.

I was wrong.

Ignoring Luca was an herculean task because he made his presence known in the most infuriatingly persistent ways.

The next three hours, another delivery arrived. This time, sushi. Three hours after that, a stack of perfectly made sandwiches, and three hours after that, an entire spread of healthy salads and smoothies.

Each time, the note remained the same.

Eat.

At first, I told myself I wouldn't touch them. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking I needed anything from him. But it was food we were talking about and my stomach didn't care about pride, and neither did the nagging voice in my head that kept on reminding me that I was a horrible cook and had barely eaten in the last twenty-four hours.

So, I caved.

It wasn’t like accepting a meal meant accepting him.

Did it?

By the third day, I was ready to put an end to whatever game he thought he was playing.

I had places to be, errands to run, and I refused to let my life revolve around Luca’s whims.

Sliding on my shoes, I grabbed my bag and reached for the door, already planning the text I’d send him to make it clear that this little routine of his needed to stop.

But when I swung the door open, my words died in my throat.

Luca stood on the other side, hand raised mid-knock, his expression unreadable.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then, his eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate. “Going somewhere?”

My fingers tightened around my bag strap. “Why are you here?”

He lowered his hand, slipping it into his pocket. “Thought I’d save the delivery guy a trip.”

I let out a sharp exhale, my patience already hanging by a thread. "Luca..."

He tilted his head slightly, as if he already knew what I was going to say.

Maybe he did. Maybe he always did.

“You got the money,” he stated. It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t want it.”

He hummed, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “That’s not how gifts work, sweetheart.”

I scowled. “Bribery isn’t a gift.”

“I wasn’t bribing you,” he said, voice smooth, controlled. “Just keeping my end of the deal.”

I crossed my arms. “Well, you can take it back.”

Luca let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s not how this works.”

His gaze softened, just a fraction, and I hated the way it made my stomach flip.

I hated the way he stood there like he belonged in my space.

“Luca,” I sighed, rubbing my temple. “You need to stop sending me food.”

He stepped closer, the air between us thinning. “Have you been eating?”

“That’s none of your business.”

His jaw tensed. “It is when you pass out in my arms again.”

Heat flushed my skin, embarrassment creeping in. “That was one time.”

“One time too many.”

Silence stretched between us. I wanted to be mad, wanted to tell him to walk away and never come back.

But instead, I stood there, caught in the pull of his gaze, heart pounding as I realized something terrifying.

Luca Romano wasn't going anywhere.

And worse... I wasn't sure I wanted him to.