Love wasn't in the contract

Chapter One

The scope was steady. Luca Raines slowed his breathing until his heartbeat matched the rhythm of the city below. Milan glowed beneath him, with golden streets, polished rooftops, and the quiet hum of wealth through glass towers and silent penthouses. From this distance, everything looked peaceful. It never was. 

He lay flat on a private rooftop three buildings away from the target, rifle aligned, eye pressed to the optic. Wind speed was minimal. Visibility was perfect. No interference on the channel. 

Damon Moreau stood inside his penthouse, framed by floor to ceiling windows, speaking into his phone. Thirty-three years old. Tech billionaire. CEO of Moreau Innovations. Untouchable. Until tonight. 

Luca had done this hundreds of times. He didn’t think about faces or memorize eyes. He treated targets like coordinates. In. Execute. Out. That was the contract. 

Adrian’s voice crackled softly in his earpiece. “Confirm visual.” 

“I have him.” 

“Take the shot.” 

Luca adjusted his grip. Through the scope, Damon turned slightly, dark curls falling across his forehead. His suit was perfectly tailored, and his posture relaxed, unaware of the invisible line from Luca’s barrel to his heart. 

Easy. Too easy. 

Luca placed the crosshair over Damon’s chest. Pressure built under his finger. This was the moment. Then something happened. Not fear. Not doubt. Just awareness. Damon laughed softly at something on the call. A brief curve of his mouth that wasn’t arrogant or cruel. It looked tired. Human. 

Luca hesitated. It lasted less than a second. But in his world, a second was everything. Movement flashed at the edge of the scope. A woman stepped into frame. Elegant. Silver hair pulled back. A hand reaching for Damon’s arm. 

Evelyn Moreau. 

Luca swore under his breath. “Abort,” he whispered. 

But Adrian’s voice cut in sharply. “Take it. Now.” 

The window of opportunity was closing. 

Luca fired. The recoil punched into his shoulder. The glass exploded. Inside the penthouse, chaos erupted. But Damon didn’t fall. The woman did. 

Evelyn Moreau collapsed against her son, blood blooming across her pale blouse. Damon screamed. The sound carried faintly through Luca’s earpiece, raw and broken, hitting Luca harder than the rifle ever could. 

He froze. 

Adrian cursed. “What the hell was that?” 

Luca didn’t answer. He was already dismantling the weapon, muscle memory reacting faster than thought. He packed up and disappeared into the shadows, his heart hammering against his ribs. The contract was failed. Someone innocent was dead. 

Damon Moreau dropped to his knees beside his mother. Her eyes were still open. Shock hollowed out his chest. “Mom Mom, stay with me.” Blood soaked through his hands as he pressed against the wound, his expensive suit ruined, his mind refusing to accept what was happening. 

Security poured in. Medics followed. But Damon already knew. He felt it in the way Evelyn’s fingers slackened in his. In how her breathing stopped. His world fractured silently. 

Hours later, he sat alone in a hospital corridor, staring at nothing while strangers spoke around him. Attempted assassination. High-profile target. Ongoing investigation. They said the bullet had been meant for him. They said his mother had stepped into the line of fire. 

Damon nodded. He signed papers. He answered questions. Inside, something hardened. Someone had tried to erase him. And they had taken his mother instead. He would find out who. And he would make them pay. 

Three days later, Luca Raines stood in Damon Moreau’s penthouse under a new name. New ID. New purpose. He wore a tailored black suit now instead of tactical gear. His hair was neatly trimmed. The scar along his jaw faded into shadow. He looked like private security. He felt like a ghost. 

Damon studied him across the room, his gray-green eyes sharp and calculating. “This background is too clean,” Damon said quietly. “No childhood records. No military trace. Nothing.” 

Luca met his gaze evenly. “You asked for discretion.” 

“I asked for protection.” 

“And you got it.” 

Damon held his stare for a long moment. Something about Luca made his instincts flare. The man was too still. He was too aware of exits. He was too controlled. Danger wrapped in silence. But Damon was running out of choices. 

“I don’t trust easily,” Damon said. 

Luca’s jaw tightened. “Good,” he replied. “Neither do I.” 

And just like that, Luca Raines became Damon Moreau’s bodyguard. The man who pulled the trigger now stood at the side of the man whose life he had destroyed. 

That night, Luca stood watch outside Damon’s bedroom, listening to him pace behind the door. Grief had a sound. So did rage. Luca closed his eyes. Protect him. That was the new contract. Even if it killed him. 

At 2:17 a.m., Luca’s burner phone vibrated. One message. From Adrian. You missed. Finish the job. 

Luca stared at the screen. Then at the closed door behind him. Inside, Damon Moreau was trying to sleep. And Luca Raines was standing between him and death.