Chapter Three

(Selena's POV)

My entire body jolted, heart hammering against my ribs like a warning bell.

I stood slowly, setting the mug down with trembling fingers.

There shouldn’t be anyone here. No one except my driver knew I was here and he left hours ago.

I slowly walked out of the sitting room into the hallway and saw a man in the middle of the hallway.

Tall with broad shoulders. He was wearing a black coat, wet from the rain. His dark hair clung to his forehead, and his hands were tucked into his pockets like he had all the time in the world. He looked up and I could feel his eyes on me—sharp and calculating, but not unkind.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Who are you?”

“Luca.” His voice was deep, rough like gravel—smooth only around the edges.

“I was looking for shelter and saw this place. The storm out there is crazy. I'm sorry, I didn't know someone lives here.”

My breath caught. “It’s fine. I don’t live here. I just needed a place to clear my head.”

We stood in silence, the rain falling behind him in steady drips.

“You can stay,” I said, surprising even myself.

He nodded once. “Thanks.”

I stepped back, letting him inside, and he brought with him a gust of cold air and something else—something heavier. Like he carried more than just the rain on his shoulders.

He looked around slowly.

I watched him shake off his coat, his black shirt clinging slightly to his chest. There was something untamed about him, like he belonged in the wild. A wolf in the woods. Dangerous, wounded and alone.

“I’m Selena,” I said quietly.

He looked at me. “Pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

We didn’t speak for a while. He moved toward the fire, crouching beside it, feeding more wood into the flames like it was second nature.

He didn’t ask why I was here and somehow, that was comforting.

Eventually, I sat down beside him, the silence between us no longer awkward.

“You look like you’ve been running,” he said finally, his voice low.

I stared into the fire. “I have.”

He didn’t pry.

“Let me guess,” he added. “Some guy broke your heart?”

I gave a humorless laugh. “Something like that. More like a whole life that isn’t mine.”

“Yeah.” His voice darkened. “I know how that feels.”

*****

The fire had died to embers, casting shadows that danced against the log walls. Outside, the rain whispered against the roof like a lullaby.

I was curled on one side of the couch, a throw blanket pulled up to my chest, while Luca sat at the edge, holding a bottle of whiskey he’d unearthed from a cabinet.

He offered it without a word, I took a sip. It burned down my throat, but it was a welcomed burn.

“Have you ever thought about disappearing?” I asked, eyes tracing the rim of the bottle as I passed it back to him. “Not just running away but really disappearing. Changing your name, starting over?”

He took a slow sip before answering. “More times than I can count.”

“What stopped you?”

He gave a dark chuckle. “Guilt, anger, a few things I’m still trying to bury.”

I watched the light catch his profile. There was a sharpness to him—jaw tense, eyes distant—but when he looked at me, all that hardness softened.

“I’m supposed to get married in five days,” I said, surprising myself.

He raised a brow. “Supposed to?”

I nodded. “It’s arranged, a merger. No love, just expectations wrapped in gold and satin.”

“And you ran.”

“I ran.”

“Brave.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels like drowning but choosing to swim for the first time.”

He looked at me with something I couldn’t quite place. Admiration, maybe.

“My father once told me love was a luxury only fools chased,” I added. “That marriage was about bloodlines and legacy.”

He tilted his head. “And what do you believe?”

I paused. “I don’t know. I’ve never really been in love. I’ve barely even been seen.”

“You’re seen now.”

The words landed like a weight in my chest.

My breath caught. “What?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I see you, Selena. You’re not invisible.”

I swallowed hard, emotion thick in my throat. No one has ever said that to me—not with this kind of raw certainty.

“Why does that mean so much coming from a stranger?” I whispered.

“Maybe because I’m not wearing a mask like the rest of them.”

We sat there, staring at each other, the silence rich and heavy. It wasn’t the kind of silence that begged to be filled.

I didn’t realize when we’d moved closer—just inches separating us now. I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating until I felt his breath on my lips.

We kissed. Slowly at first, tentative and testing. Then, something cracked open and the kiss deepened, taking on a life of its own. His hands cradled my face like I was something fragile, something rare. And yet, when his mouth claimed mine again, it was with hunger—a hunger I felt mirrored in the hollow ache inside me.

The blanket slipped away. His hands found my skin. Mine fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer.

My back hit the couch cushions. His weight settled over me.

I should have stopped it.

I should have remembered who I was, where I was going, what I was leaving behind. But all I could feel was him and for the first time in my carefully controlled, painfully perfect life, I didn’t want to stop.

*****

(Luca's POV)

I haven’t set foot near the family estate in two years. The walls reeked of betrayal, and every corner reminded me of the night my life split in two. Damien’s voice still echoed in my head—calm, calculated, and shameless—when I walked into that hotel suite and saw him with Isabelle, tangled in the very sheets I had planned to lie in with her on our honeymoon.

They didn’t even try to explain and Damien didn’t flinch. That night, something inside me broke, something I never quite recovered from. When he told me he was getting married, I laughed.

Selena Valenci, his bride-to-be 

I'd seen her at numerous parties and galas, her face was always plastered on magazines. She was beautiful in a quietly devastating way, always with that porcelain-perfect expression. But something in her eyes stood out—detached, haunted almost. It was a look I recognized all too well, the look of someone trapped.

Maybe it was the part of me that still hadn’t healed, or maybe it was the fire that never really died, but something twisted inside me the moment I saw her photo. The idea came fast and dark.

I wanted Damien to lose something he truly wanted.

I hired a discreet PI I’d used before. He's really good. Within days, I had details: Selena’s routine, her family’s grip, the upcoming wedding and her escape.

The PI tracked her to a secluded cabin in the mountains. A property that has been abandoned.

It was the perfect place to meet, talk to her and try to get her to sleep with me. Then, I’d have the ultimate revenge. Damien would finally feel the hurt I felt. We'll be even.

But when I saw her in the hallway of that abandoned cabin, I forgot my lines the moment she spoke.

We talked.

It started with polite words and cautious tones. Then, the fire crackled between us and something loosened in her shoulders. She told me about pressure, how she wasn’t sure she was living her life at all.

She didn’t know who I was.

She thought I was just some guy who happened to stumble into her hiding place. And for once, I liked being just some guy.

We drank and laughed. I saw pieces of her I didn’t think she meant to show—her impulsiveness, loneliness, and hunger to just feel something.

She wasn’t what I expected.

She was more.

When her fingers brushed mine, something cracked open inside me. She leaned in first or maybe I did. I can’t remember. All I know is that her lips were soft and hesitant, like she didn’t know if she was allowed to want this. But I wanted her, I wanted to taste her rebellion. I wanted to feel something that wasn’t bitterness or rage.

When I pulled her closer and she didn’t pull away, it felt like I had finally found the one person who saw me—not the Luca everyone whispered about, the broken brother with a vendetta, but the man I haven’t been in years.

Our clothes hit the floor.

Her breath hitched. And in that moment, I knew I had gone too far.

She wasn’t a pawn, she was a person. I should have stopped.

But I didn’t.

And as I watched her sleep afterward, her body curled into mine like she trusted me, like I was safe, the guilt hit me like a freight train.

She didn’t know who I was.

And when she finds out, I know everything we had would be shattered.

But I had to walk away and I did.