Chapter 4

Lyra's POV

Luca's feline eyes studied me with newfound interest. The lazy grin faded, replaced by a wolfish purse of his lips.

He tilted his head, and the gesture was so achingly familiar it made my chest ache.

"Cassian. My half-brother, actually. Same dad, different moms." His gaze drifted to Eleanor, who was now trying to climb onto the office chair. "And unless I'm completely mistaken, which I'm usually not... that little girl has his hair texture, and bone structure."

I couldn't bring myself to speak.

"Lyra Edevane." He said my name continuously, like he was trying to figure out something. "Lyra... Edavane, mmn...."

"Lyra. Lyra." Recognition flashed across his face. "Holy shit. You are her."

"I—I don't…"

"You are the wife that disappeared."

"Ex-wife," I corrected automatically, then immediately regretted it.

"Rail! Rail! Rail!" Eleanor chanted happily, oblivious to the tension between Luca and I, mostly the tense atmosphere on my part.

He was finding amusement in this scenario.

He leaned against the counter.

"I need a second to mmn, should I say... process this."

My voice came out higher than intended.

"Does Cassian know you are here?"

If he even knew that Luca was lodging in a place where my name was boldly written in the renting column, he would definitely know where I was.

He shrugged.

"I don't even talk to Cassian. We are like... oil and water, we don't mix. Different personalities, different lives—" His eyes went back to Eleanor. "How old is she?"

"That's none of your business."

"Two? Two and a half?" He was doing the math, I could see it happening behind those pale blue eyes. "Which means the kid is definitely his."

"Get out."

"Lyra—"

"Get. Out." I moved to Eleanor, scooping her up despite her protests. "The lease is void. I'll refund your money. Please, just leave."

"With what money?" He didn't move, he just crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. "You already spent it, haven't you? That is why you couldn't turn me away even after you heard my last name."

I hated that he was right.

"I don't care. I'll figure it ou—"

"Does he know?" Luca interrupted. "About her. Does Cassian know he has a daughter?"

I held Eleanor tighter.

She had gone still, sensing my distress, her little hand patting my cheek.

"Mama okay?"

"Mama's fine, baby." I kissed her forehead, breathing in her baby shampoo scent. Then I looked at Luca, and I made sure he could see exactly how serious I was.

"No. He doesn't know. And you are not going to tell him."

"But—"

"I mean it. Cassian and I had an arrangement, a business arrangement, and it only needed to last for three years. I was reluctant to end it and it ended up stretching to five, I decided to end it two years ago and I did. End of story.."

"But she is his."

"She's mine." The fierceness in my voice surprised even me. "She is my daughter. It's been two years and there's no need to revisit the past."

Luca was quiet for a long moment.

"Look, I get it. Family drama, secrets, complicated situations, that's basically the Rourke family motto." He shifted his weight, and his expression softened. "But I'm not Cassian. I'm not going to run and tell him anything. That's... that's between you two."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"Because I was surprised. Never mind though. This is not my story to tell."

"So what now?" I asked. "You just... stay here? For four months? Despite knowing who I am?"

"Do you have the money to refund me?"

"No…"

"Then yeah. I will stay here." He held up his hands before I could protest. "But here is the deal. I keep my mouth shut. I don't tell Cassian, I don't tell anyone in the family. As far as I'm concerned, you are just my landlord and Eleanor is just your daughter... and that's that."

"Why would you do that?"

His grin returned.

"I already paid. Might as well get something out of it."

He turned back to his suitcases, wrapping his fingers around the handle.

"But, we are still sharing that living room? Kapeesh?"

He ran his pierced tongue across his lips.

"I...okay fine, but we'll need to lay out some serious rules."

"I'm usually a rule breaker—" I wanted to say something but he cut me off. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes," he repeated, that wolfish grin still playing at his lips. "But for you, landlord, I'll try to behave."

I didn't believe him for a second.

Eleanor squirmed in my arms, reaching toward Luca.

"Down, Mama. Wanna play."

"Not right now, baby."

"But Mama—"

"Eleanor." My tone was louder than I intended, and she went still. I felt immediate guilt. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Mama is just tired."

Luca watched this exchange, still with that stupid grin on his lips.

This boy was definitely a menace.

He crouched down, meeting Eleanor's eyes. "Hey, little troublemaker. How about this, if your mom says it's okay, I'll show you some cool drawings."

Eleanor's face lit up. "Dwawings?"

"Yeah. I draw for a living. I'm pretty good at it."

"Okay!" She wiggled free from my arms and took off running toward her room. Her bottom lip was no longer trembling and she definitely wasn't pouting. Drama queen.

I stared at Luca. "You didn't have to do that."

"She was about to cry. I don't do well with crying kids." He stood up, dusting off his jeans.

I wasn't sure if I should thank him.

"Right." I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache building up. "About those rules—"

"Ofcourse, rules."

"First, your wing is yours, the main living area is shared but Eleanor's toys stay there. If she is playing, you work around her, not the other way around."

"Fair enough."

"Second, no bringing... guests over. Especially not overnight guests."

His grin widened.

"Why, Lyra. Are you worried about my love life?"

"I'm worried about even more strangers being around my daughter."

"Relax. I'm not really the relationship type anyway." He started wheeling his suitcase again. "What else?"

"No smoking. No drugs. No—"

"I don't smoke, I don't do drugs, and I'm generally a model citizen despite the tattoos and piercings." He paused. "Well, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"I have a tendency to work late. Like, really late. Sometimes till 3 or 4 AM. I'll try to keep it down but sometimes I play music while I sketch. Is that going to be a problem?"

I thought about my bedroom on the opposite end of the house. The walls were thick and pretty sound proof.

"Mmn.." I tapped my chin. "What kind of music?"

He paused.

"Do you really want to know?"