Dangerous Attachments

The apartment felt colder after Damien left.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Like his presence had poisoned the air itself.

Ava stood motionless near the kitchen counter, staring at the photograph of her apartment building while rain battered the broken doorway. Somewhere below, New York continued moving like nothing had happened.

Cars honked.

Sirens wailed.

People laughed.

Meanwhile her entire life had just been ripped apart in four hours.

“You should’ve told me,” she whispered.

Luca stayed silent.

That silence hurt more than she expected.

Ava turned toward him sharply.

“You’re in the mafia.”

“It’s complicated.”

“No,” she snapped. “Complicated is cheating on someone or forgetting anniversaries. This is criminal empire level insanity.”

Luca rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted.

“I was trying to keep you out of it.”

“You dragged me into gunfire!”

“And I kept you alive.”

The words hit hard because they were true.

Ava hated that.

She hated the way part of her still felt safer standing near him despite every warning screaming inside her head.

Luca walked toward the shattered entrance and checked the hallway carefully before locking what remained of the door.

“Your apartment isn’t safe anymore,” he said quietly.

Ava laughed bitterly.

“Apparently nothing is.”

She grabbed her purse from the couch with shaking hands.

“I’m leaving.”

Luca turned instantly.

“No.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“If you walk out that door tonight, you’ll be followed.”

“Then I’ll go to the police.”

“That won’t protect you from my family.”

His family.

The words sounded darker every time.

Ava stared at him in disbelief.

“How can you say things like this so calmly?”

“Because panic gets people killed.”

Silence.

Luca stepped closer carefully, like approaching a frightened animal.

“I know you’re scared.”

“You should be scared too.”

His expression darkened.

“I am.”

That caught her off guard.

Luca rarely showed emotion, but now she saw it clearly beneath the surface—anger, exhaustion… guilt.

And something else.

Something dangerous.

He cared.

Ava looked away first.

That felt even more terrifying than the guns.

“What happens now?” she asked quietly.

Luca hesitated.

Then he answered honestly.

“Now they watch you.”

A chill crawled through her.

“Why?”

“Because enemies use weaknesses.”

“And I’m your weakness?”

The question hung heavily between them.

Luca’s eyes locked onto hers.

“You shouldn’t be.”

The tension in the room became unbearable.

Ava’s pulse quickened.

She knew she should hate him.

Run from him.

Fear him.

Instead she noticed ridiculous things—like the tiny cut beneath his lip, or the way his shirt clung to his chest, or how his voice softened whenever he spoke directly to her.

It was insane.

He was insane.

But attraction didn’t care about logic.

Luca moved closer slowly.

Too close.

“Ava…”

Her breath caught.

Then suddenly—

A loud buzz echoed from the security panel near the elevator.

Luca instantly stepped away from her, every wall returning at once.

He checked the monitor.

His expression hardened.

“Who is it?” Ava asked.

“A doctor.”

“What?”

“I called him earlier.”

Before she could respond, the elevator doors opened.

An older man in a gray suit stepped into the penthouse carrying a medical bag. He looked completely unfazed by the destroyed doorway and armed atmosphere.

“Rough night?” the man asked dryly.

“You could say that,” Luca replied.

The doctor’s eyes landed on Ava briefly.

Interesting.

Curious.

But not surprised.

“That her?” he asked Luca quietly.

Luca’s jaw tightened.

“Don’t start.”

The doctor smirked knowingly.

Oh God.

Even strangers could see whatever this thing was between them.

“I’m Dr. Moretti,” he told Ava gently. “And you look one panic attack away from collapsing.”

“Accurate,” she muttered.

For the next twenty minutes, the doctor cleaned Luca’s injuries while Ava sat silently on the couch trying to process reality.

Mafia families.

Shootings.

Surveillance.

Weakness.

The word repeated endlessly in her head.

Finally Dr. Moretti finished stitching Luca’s shoulder.

“You need rest.”

“I’ll survive.”

“You say that every time someone tries to kill you.”

Ava looked up sharply.

“Every time?”

The doctor blinked like he’d revealed too much.

Luca glared at him.

Helpful.

Dr. Moretti cleared his throat awkwardly before gathering his supplies.

Then he turned toward Ava.

“Miss Sinclair.”

“Yes?”

His expression became serious.

“You should leave this city.”

Luca’s eyes snapped toward him.

The doctor ignored him.

“I’ve known Luca since he was a boy,” he continued carefully. “And people around him…” He paused. “They rarely stay untouched by his world.”

A painful silence followed.

Ava looked at Luca.

He didn’t deny it.

That hurt more than she expected.

Dr. Moretti sighed softly and headed for the elevator.

Before the doors closed, he gave Luca one final look.

“Your father’s making moves,” he warned quietly.

Luca went still.

“How soon?”

“Soon enough.”

The elevator doors shut.

Silence returned.

Ava stood slowly.

“What does that mean?”

Luca stared toward the elevator for a long moment before answering.

“My father doesn’t forgive betrayal.”

“And you betrayed him.”

“Yes.”

Ava swallowed hard.

“What did you do?”

Luca looked at her finally.

And whatever she saw in his expression made her heart sink.

“Something unforgivable.”

Before she could ask another question, his phone rang.

Luca checked the screen.

For the first time since she met him—

He looked genuinely shaken.

Ava’s stomach tightened.

“Who is it?”

Luca answered quietly.

“My father.”

Then the phone stopped ringing.

A text message appeared instead.

Luca read it once.

And all the color drained from his face.

“What?” Ava whispered.

Slowly, Luca turned the phone toward her.

One photograph filled the screen.

Ava’s mother.

Standing outside her house.

Taken less than an hour ago.

Underneath the image was a single message: