Chapter 2: Ashes in the Morning Light

The villa was quiet when the sun finally clawed its way over the horizon, painting the marble floors in pale gold. Sofia’s birthday party had ended sometime after three laughter fading into slurred goodbyes, music dying to a low hum, bodies collapsing onto couches or stumbling to guest rooms. I hadn’t slept.

I sat on the edge of the bed in the room Sofia had given me, knees drawn up, staring at the rumpled white sheets like they held answers. My skin still felt branded where Luca had touched me. The ghost of his thumb on my lip. The heat of his breath. The way my body had arched toward him without permission.

I hated myself for it.

The door creaked open without a knock.

Sofia slipped inside, hair a tangled mess, mascara smudged under her eyes, wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt that probably belonged to one of the guys she’d been flirting with last night. She looked wrecked in the best way happy wrecked.

“Morning, traitor,” she said, voice hoarse from singing off-key karaoke at 2 a.m. She flopped onto the bed beside me, face-planting into the pillow. “Why are you awake? You look like you saw a ghost.”

I forced a laugh. It sounded thin. “Just… couldn’t sleep. Too much champagne.”

“Liar.” She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. “You disappeared after the cake. I looked everywhere. Where’d you go?”

My stomach twisted. “Terrace. Needed air.”

Her eyes narrowed playfully. “Alone?”

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

She studied me for a long second. Then grinned. “You’re a terrible liar, Val. Your cheeks are redder than that dress last night.”

I pulled the sheet higher, hiding the flush creeping down my neck. “Shut up.”

She laughed, but it softened quickly. “Hey. Whatever it is… you can tell me, you know? Best friend code. No judgment.”

The irony burned. I wanted to tell her. Wanted to spill everything the way her father’s voice had unraveled me, the way his eyes had stripped me bare without a single word, the way I’d stood there and let him almost kiss me. Almost ruin us both.

But the words lodged in my throat like broken glass.

Instead I said, “Nothing. Promise. Just… tired.”

She reached out, squeezed my hand. “Okay. But if some idiot guy was bothering you—”

“No guy,” I cut in too fast.

Her brow furrowed. “Okay… weirdo. Come downstairs. Dad ordered breakfast from that fancy place in town. He’s already up, grumbling about the mess.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Luca was downstairs.

I nodded, throat too tight to speak.

Sofia bounced off the bed. “Shower. You stink of regret and bad decisions.” She winked, oblivious, and disappeared.

I sat there for another minute, breathing shallow. Then I forced myself up.

The shower scalded. I stood under the spray until my skin turned pink, trying to scrub away last night. It didn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face storm-gray eyes darkening, jaw clenched, thumb pressing my lip like he owned it.

I dressed in jeans and a loose white tee, nothing like the red dress. Nothing that screamed “look at me.” Hair in a messy bun. Bare face. Armor.

Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like coffee and fresh croissants. Sofia was already perched on a stool, stealing bites from a plate of fruit, chatting with one of the caterers.

And Luca.

He stood at the island, back to me, pouring coffee into a mug. Black suit jacket gone, sleeves rolled up again, revealing those forearms. The same ones that had caged me against the railing.

He turned.

Our eyes met.

Time stuttered.

He looked… composed. Too composed. Jaw set, expression unreadable, but I saw the flicker in his gaze the same hunger from last night, banked but not gone.

“Morning, Valentina,” he said. Voice low, polite. Like nothing had happened.

My mouth went dry. “Morning.”

Sofia glanced between us. “Dad, you remember Val, right? My best friend since forever?”

Luca’s eyes never left mine. “I remember.”

The words hung heavy. Sofia didn’t notice.

She hopped off the stool. “I’m gonna grab more fruit. You two play nice.” She disappeared toward the patio.

The kitchen shrank.

Luca set the mug down. Slowly. Deliberately.

“You ran,” he said quietly.

I crossed my arms. “You told me to go inside.”

“I told you to run while you still could.” He stepped closer. Not touching. Not yet. “You didn’t.”

Heat flooded my face. “I”

“You let me touch you.” His voice dropped lower. “You let me almost kiss you.”

My breath hitched. “It was a mistake.”

“Was it?”

He stopped inches away. The island was between us, but it felt like nothing. I could smell him again cedar, smoke, danger.

“You trembled,” he said. “Your pulse was racing under my thumb. You wanted it.”

I looked away. “Stop.”

“Look at me.”

I didn’t want to. But I did.

His eyes were dark. Hungry. Controlled fury.

“You think you can pretend it didn’t happen?” he asked softly. “Walk around my house like nothing changed?”

“I have to.”

“For Sofia.”

“Yes.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Then why are you shaking again?”

I wasn’t. Or I was. I couldn’t tell anymore.

He braced both hands on the island, leaning in. “Tell me to stay away, Valentina. Say it. Mean it. And I will.”

I opened my mouth.

The words wouldn’t come.

His gaze dropped to my lips. “That’s what I thought.”

Footsteps.

Sofia bounced back in, plate piled high. “Dad, you’re hogging the coffee”

Luca straightened instantly. Smooth. Untouched. “All yours, principessa.”

Sofia grinned, oblivious. “Val, come eat. You look like death.”

I forced a smile. “Coming.”

Luca’s eyes met mine one last time over her head. A promise. A warning.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

I followed Sofia to the patio, legs unsteady, heart pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it.

The sun was too bright. The food too sweet. Everything too normal.

But inside me, something had cracked open.

And I didn’t know how to close it.