LOGINYOU ARE NOT MADE OF STEEL••Roman••I woke up to a stillness that enveloped me. As I slowly opened my eyes, the ceiling appeared strange for just a moment before memories flooded back. I remembered I was in a hotel suite in New York with Luciana. But where was Luciana? I glanced around and realized the room was completely empty. She wasn't lying next to me.With some effort, I pushed myself up, the room tilting slightly as if challenging my right to be awake. My head was still pounding, though the pain had dulled to a nagging throb, a reminder of the night's excesses. I pressed my fingers against my temple, then my neck; the heat lingered, but it was more manageable now.I reached for the clock on the bedside table. Past Four. Four in the afternoon. A curse slipped from my lips. Six hours, maybe even more. I had lost half the day, like a man with no obligations rather than someone tied up in deals and under watchful eyes. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, pausing to let t
FEVER LINES ••Roman••I woke in the middle of the night with my chest tight and my nose burning. Sneezing had turned from an irritation into something I couldn’t ignore, and lying still only made it worse. My head throbbed dully, like a slow hammer tapping from the inside.I turned slightly and looked at Luciana.She slept on her side, facing away from me, her hair spilled across the pillow like she owned the space without trying. We always left a careful distance between us, a deliberate stretch of mattress wide enough to hold another body, wide enough to remind us of what this marriage wasn’t supposed to be.Tonight, the space felt colder than usual.I pressed a hand to my forehead. It was burning hot. I am not one to use drugs so I never have any medication. I never did. I wasn’t used to needing it. This wasn’t my house, wasn’t my routine, and my body seemed intent on reminding me of that.I slipped out of bed quietly and went to the bathroom, turning the shower on hot. Steam fill
NEW YORK NIGHTS••Luciana••As the days rolled on, we seamlessly fell back into our familiar routine. Before we knew it, Roman had business in Sicily once again. When he brought it up, I saw an opportunity to join him—this way, I could check in on Sapphire Lounge while we were at it.We had just begun to settle into the villa when Roman got a phone call. The look on his face instantly signaled that the news was unsettling. “I need to be in New York by tomorrow morning,” he informed me, “which means we have to leave tonight.” I let out a resigned sigh. “That was quick.” With his typical resolve, he asserted, “You’re coming with me. I can’t leave you here by yourself, and Theo has to accompany me as well.” “There are guards all around,” I countered. “I’ll be perfectly fine.” But Roman was unmoved. Just like him. Stubborn and resolute once he made a decision. A few hours later, we found ourselves airborne, en route to New York. We landed late at night, and the city welcomed us with
WHAT DO I GET IN RETURN?••Luciana••“Luci, can we talk?” Matteo asked.Roman glanced at the two of us and immediately understood. He stepped back without hesitation. “I’ll be outside,” he said calmly. “I need to make a call anyway.”“Okay,” I replied.The door closed behind him.Matteo released a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit I knew too well. “What was that downstairs?”“What was what?” I asked, straightening a book on the shelf that didn’t need fixing. If I looked at him for too long, I might explode.“Don’t do that,” he said.“Do what?”“The pretending. The silence. You walked out like you didn’t know us.”I finally turned to him. “Maybe that’s because none of you recognized me first.”His mouth parted, then closed again.“You vanished,” he said quietly.“I got married,” I corrected. “And you all knew exactly where I was.”“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “You didn’t need us anymore.”A short laugh escaped me. “Funny how I spent months thinking you didn’t
SHE'S MY WIFE NOW••Luciana••“Welcome to your old home, princess.”Roman’s voice was light as he held out his hand to help me out of the jet. For a second, I just stared at it. Old home. The words sat strangely on my tongue. The Moretti estate rose before us, tall and familiar, unchanged in structure but heavy with memories I hadn’t unpacked yet.I took his hand.The guards straightened immediately, heads bowing in respect. The workers paused whatever they were doing to greet us as we walked in. Everything moved the way it always had, like I had never left, or been absent.Inside, the dining table was already set.Father sat at the head, exactly where he always did. To his right sat the woman. His new wife, or soon to be wife, or whatever title she was supposed to carry now. Antonio sat to his left, posture stiff, expression unreadable. Then I noticed Matteo.My chest tightened.Roman and I walked toward the table together. Two empty seats waited beside Antonio, one near Matteo. Roma
HE DOESN'T OWN YOU••Luciana••I told Roman I wasn’t going, and for a couple of hours, I nearly convinced myself of that. But deep down, I knew the truth. There was no scenario in which Roman would pass up my father’s invitation; the weight of our family ties loomed over us like loaded guns on a table. If Roman was going, then I was, too. After all, appearances were everything, especially in families like ours.So when he returned the next day and coolly instructed me to get dressed, I didn’t protest. I simply nodded and walked away, accepting my fate.For the first time, the thought of returning to Sicily filled me with a sense of dread instead of excitement; home felt more like a tightening grip around my chest than a warm embrace.I moved through the room in silence, picking out something suitable with little deliberation. I settled on a stylish black dress—elegant but understated—and took care of my accessories. When I glanced at the clock, I hesitated.Just twenty minutes.That w

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