Luca already hated himself before he stepped into the room.
The weight in his chest had nothing to do with having to face his father and more to do with not being able to find Audrey.
Nick De Santis was seated behind the desk, a glass of something dark in his hand. Of course. Antonio, his younger brother by eight years, stood off to the side, leaned casually against the wall like he wasn’t waiting for the floor to crack open.
Luca didn’t sit.
“You wanted to speak,” Nick said, not looking at him.
Not a question. A statement.
“Yeah,” Luca said, eyeing the whiskey. “Should you be drinking that after heart surgery?”
“I only have one life, Luca, and I will live it to the fullest. If that means I will join your mamma in heaven a little sooner, then so be it.”
Luca let that settle for a moment before saying what needed saying. Before he was done, Luca was sure his father would need that drink.
“I’m not marrying her.”
There. Said it.
His father blinked slowly, like the words hadn’t landed yet
