CHAPTER 29

Lucas

Lucas realized he was no longer touching the ground.

For a brief, disorienting second, the world tilted—cobblestones sliding sideways beneath his vision, the sharp Italian sunlight flashing between buildings. Pain pulsed through his ankle where he had twisted it moments earlier while trying to keep up with Jamie’s reckless exploration in a hidden cove.

Then he looked up.

And saw him.

Lucas blinked, trying to understand why the tall stranger was holding him as if he weighed nothing at all.

One arm was hooked securely beneath Lucas’s knees, the other braced around his back. The man carried him with an effortless steadiness that made Lucas suddenly aware of everything—the heat of the stranger’s body through his shirt, the faint scent of whiskey and expensive cologne, the hard strength beneath the fabric of his black button-down.

Two buttons at the collar were undone.

Lucas noticed that first.

Then the eyes.

Dark. Sharp. Watching him with an intensity that made his stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with pain.

“You’re staring,” the man said calmly, his voice low and smooth, like gravel wrapped in silk.

Lucas realized he was.

“Oh—” His face flushed instantly. “Sorry.”

The man didn’t stop walking.

“Your friend said you hurt your leg.”

Lucas followed the direction of his voice and saw Jamie ahead of them, walking ahead of them along with Matteo looking over his shoulder his brows furrowed in concern.

"It's all my fault." He mouthed to him.

Lucas shook his head.

“We are so sorry for trespassing,” Jamie voiced out to the man beside him who responded so lowly that Lucas couldn't hear.

Lucas groaned.

The stranger carrying him paused.

" I'm I hurting you?" He asked.

The sound vibrated through Lucas’s chest where their bodies touched, and for some reason it made his ears burn.

“Umm.. no."

Lucas sighed.

They turned a corner, into th mansion making Jamie and Matteo disappear from sight.

"Where are we going? Why aren't we following them?" 

He held him tighter. 

"You're hurt and you need treatment. Your friend isn't hurt so Matteo will just show him to his room."

Oh

Graduation had felt like the end of something huge.

Five years of studying. Deadlines. Exams. Endless nights in the library.

Then suddenly—

Freedom.

Jamie had been the one to suggest the trip.

“Let’s go somewhere completely out of our comfort zone.” he’d said. “Somewhere that looks like people fall in love or commit crimes.”

Lucas had assumed he meant Rome.

Instead they had ended up in Sicily.

And somehow—

Lucas was currently being carried through a mansion by a stranger who looked like he had stepped out of a crime film.

“What’s your name?” the man asked.

Lucas hesitated for half a second.

“Lucas.”

“Lucas,” the man repeated slowly, like he was testing how the name felt in his mouth.

Lucas tried not to think about that too much.

“And yours?” he asked politely.

The man glanced down at him again.

For a moment Lucas had the strange feeling he was being studied.

Measured.

Then the man smiled faintly.

“Enzo.”

The name sounded dangerous.

Lucas wasn’t sure why he thought that.

Maybe it was the way Enzo said it—without explanation, without elaboration, like a name that expected recognition

It looked like a private sitting room turned medical space—clean wooden cabinets, a wide couch, and a low table covered with neatly arranged supplies.

Enzo gently set Lucas down on the couch.

The sudden loss of warmth from his arms made Lucas oddly aware of the empty space between them.

“Let me see,” Enzo said.

Lucas swallowed.

“It's really not that bad.”

Enzo crouched in front of him.

" You can't even walk. Let me see it." He said firmly.

Lucas’s words died instantly.

Up close, Enzo looked even more intimidating. Broad shoulders, sharp jawline, dark eyes that seemed to notice everything.

And he was very close.

Enzo reached for Lucas’s ankle carefully.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

His hands were warm.

Lucas felt his stomach twist again.

“It already hurts,” Lucas admitted.

Enzo examined the swelling with slow, precise movements.

“You twisted it badly.”

Lucas tried to laugh it off.

“That sounds dramatic. I just slipped and fell.”

“It isn’t,” Enzo replied calmly.

He wrapped the ankle with a firm bandage, his fingers brushing Lucas’s skin occasionally as he worked.

Lucas hated how aware he was of it.

Every small touch.

Every movement.

“You’re very quiet, very different from your friend.” Enzo said after a moment.

Lucas blinked.

“I… only talk when there’s something to say.”

Enzo glanced up at him.

“And there isn’t?”

Lucas felt strangely caught.

“I don’t usually get carried into strange mansions by men I just met.”

That earned the faintest smile from Enzo.

“Fair.”

Lucas shifted slightly on the couch.

“You didn’t have to help me.”

Enzo finished securing the bandage before answering.

“I wanted to. You're a guest.”

Lucas’s heart skipped.

Enzo stood.

“Can you stand?”

Lucas tried carefully.

The moment his foot touched the ground pain shot up his leg.

He sucked in a breath.

“Okay—maybe not.”

Before he could say anything else—

Enzo lifted him again.

Lucas let out a startled sound.

“You don’t have to keep doing that!”

“You can’t walk,” Enzo replied simply.

Lucas muttered something under his breath.

Enzo carried him down another hallway and pushed open a large bedroom door.

The room was elegant but comfortable—wide bed, tall windows, dark wooden furniture polished to a shine.

Enzo lowered Lucas gently onto the bed.

“Rest,” he said.

Lucas watched as Enzo pulled the blankets over him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You seem very used to taking care of people,” Lucas said quietly.

Enzo paused.

For a moment something unreadable passed through his expression.

“Not exactly.”

Lucas wanted to ask what that meant.

But something told him not to.

Enzo stepped back toward the door.

Lucas suddenly felt reluctant to let the moment end.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Enzo looked at him again.

His gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary.

“You should try to get some sleep,” he said.

Then he turned.

The door closed quietly behind him.

Lucas stared at the ceiling for a long time after that.

His ankle still hurt.

But somehow—

That wasn’t the reason his heart wouldn’t slow down.