Chapter Eight

(Luca's POV)

I wasn’t supposed to care. The plan was to get back at Damien by playing the same ruthless game he has mastered.

Selena was never meant to be more than just my revenge plan. She's a beautiful, vulnerable girl caught in the crossfire of a war she didn’t even know existed. So why the hell couldn’t I get her out of my head?

I told myself she was just a pawn, but pawns weren’t supposed to leave marks. Pawns didn’t make your chest ache at night or your head spin with memories.

I sat in the corner of my study, the city lights flickering behind the massive glass windows.

I wasn’t at the wedding.

Of course, I wasn’t.

Even though I’d received the invitation like a silent challenge. Damien’s way of flaunting another of his many achievements in my face.

Bastard.

I can't wait to see the look on his face when he finds out I had a taste of his bride just before his wedding.

The thought brought a smug smile to my face. I never knew revenge felt this good.

My eyes darted to the television on the wall. The press was already calling it the wedding of the year—photos of the happy couple posted everywhere. Selena in her wedding gown. Damien, the perfect groom. Hand in hand, smiling for the cameras. But I could see how miserable Selena looked.

It wasn’t the kind of sadness you fake.

Her eyes looked empty.

I knew those eyes. I saw them—when she fell asleep on my chest after we made love in that tiny cabin. When she told me she didn’t want to marry a stranger. When her voice broke, and I held her like she was the most fragile thing in the world.

I’ve seen her alive. But now, she was a shell of that girl.

Now, when I close my eyes, it’s her face I see. Her soft laughter, the curve of her mouth, the way she said my name.

I dragged my hands through my hair, sinking into the leather chair like gravity was too heavy tonight. My heart was beating out of rhythm, faster than I liked. I’ve spent years controlling every move I made, every word I said, but now I felt like I was unraveling and it's all because of her.

Selena Valenci. Now Selena Delacroix.

How am I supposed to forget the taste of her lips? The way she trembled beneath me, because what we had was something raw and real. How was I supposed to pretend that night never happened, when it was the first night in years I actually felt something?

Damien doesn’t deserve her.

He’d use her like a business deal—nothing more than a trophy wife to parade around. That’s how he works. Emotionless, strategic and cold. I know him better than anyone.

But now, I was the one sitting in the dark, tortured by memories of a girl who probably hates me for leaving without even saying goodbye after I made her believe I was someone safe, someone who gave a damn.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands clasped tightly like I was praying to a god I didn’t believe in. All I could think about was the feel of her skin, the way she whispered my name in the silence of that cabin, how her eyes searched mine like she was looking for a way out of the nightmare that had become her life.

A knock came at the door. I didn’t answer.

The knock came again, louder.

“Luca?” It was Vincent, my assistant. “You okay?”

No. I'm not.

“Go away,” I barked.

Silence. Then retreating footsteps.

Good. I don't need anyone seeing me like this.

I'm supposed to stay focused..

I closed my eyes.

And there she was again.

Selena.

Her fingers tangled in my shirt. Her lips parted. Her eyes fluttered closed as I whispered things I never meant to say.

No. This wasn’t part of the plan.

I grabbed the bottle of scotch from the side table and took a long drink straight from the neck. The burn helped momentarily but it didn’t erase her. She was in my veins now like a drug I was addicted to.

I don't know how but I need to fix this. I need to get Selena out of my head if I really want to get back at Damien.

I just have to find the perfect moment to strike.