Chapter 13 - The Return
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The sun was just beginning to rise over the Long Island Sound when Luca finally returned to the estate.
The beautiful limestone mansion was scarred with bullet holes, broken glass, and the scorch marks of explosives. His cleanup crews were already hauling away the bodies and repairing the gates, erasing the evidence of the war before the local police even thought to ask questions.
Luca walked through the ruined foyer, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. His suit was torn, his knuckles were bruised, and dried blood flaked off his hands.
He bypassed his own bedroom and walked directly to the east wing.
He typed the code into the safe room keypad. The heavy steel door hissed open.
Elena was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, with Nora sleeping peacefully with her head in Elena’s lap. When the door opened, Elena scrambled backward, terrified, until she saw his face.
“Luca,” she breathed, the formal 'Mr. Ferraro' completely forgotten.
She stood up, rushing across the room. She didn't flinch at the blood on his shirt or the bruised, violent exhaustion on his face. She reached out, her hands gently framing his rough jawline.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, her dark eyes frantic as she searched his face.
“I am fine,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. He placed his large hands over hers, closing his eyes for a second to absorb her warmth. “It’s over. The men who did this are dead. The traitor has been dealt with. You are safe.”
Elena let out a shuddering breath, resting her forehead against his chest. “I was so scared you weren't going to come back.”
Luca wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He felt the rapid beat of her heart against his. He had spent his entire life pushing people away, believing that love was a liability, a weakness that enemies would exploit.
But holding Elena, he realized she wasn't a weakness. She was the reason he fought. She and Nora were the only things in his dark, violent world that actually mattered.
“I will always come back,” Luca whispered fiercely into her hair.
Nora stirred on the couch, rubbing her eyes. She sat up, looking at the tall, bloodied man holding her mother. She didn't look scared.
She slid off the couch, walked over, and wrapped her small arms around Luca’s leg.
“Mr. Luca fixed it,” she mumbled sleepily.
May you like
Luca looked down at the little girl, a slow, genuine smile finally breaking through his exhaustion. He let go of Elena just enough to scoop Nora up into his arms, holding them both.
“Yes, piccolina,” Luca promised softly. “I fixed it.”
