Chapter 5: Fractured Dawn

The first light of morning slipped through the curtains like a thief, pale and hesitant. I woke with a start, heart already racing before my eyes fully opened. The guest bed felt too big, too empty. My body still carried the memory of Luca’s hands his fingers inside me, the low growl in his throat when I came apart on his lap.

I pressed my thighs together. The ache lingered, sweet and shameful.

Sofia’s room was quiet. I slipped out, padded to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face. The mirror showed a stranger: flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes too bright. Evidence.

I dressed quickly leggings, oversized hoodie, hair tied back. Armor again. Downstairs, the house smelled of fresh coffee and something baking. Sofia was in the kitchen, humming off-key, pouring batter into muffin tins.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” she called without turning. “Dad’s out for a run. He said he’d bring back those fancy pastries from the bakery if we’re nice.”

I froze in the doorway. “He’s… running?”

“Yeah. Said he needed to clear his head.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You okay? You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

I forced a smile. “Jet lag from… nothing. Just restless.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You sure? You’ve been weird since the party. Like, extra weird.”

My stomach knotted. “I’m fine, Sof. Promise.”

She studied me a second longer, then shrugged. “Okay. But if it’s a guy drama, spill. I live for this shit.”

I laughed too sharp. “No drama.”

“Liar.” She grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Help me with these muffins?”

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. We worked in silence for a while me cracking eggs, her measuring sugar. Normal. Domestic. Safe.

Until the front door opened.

Luca stepped in, sweat-damp shirt clinging to his chest, hair messy, breathing hard. He looked… wrecked. Not physically. Something deeper.

His eyes found me instantly.

Time slowed.

Sofia turned. “Dad! You’re back fast. Pastries?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at me long enough that Sofia frowned.

“Dad?”

He blinked. Cleared his throat. “Bakery was closed. Early Sunday.”

Sofia pouted. “Lame. Coffee then?”

“Already brewing.” He moved past us to the sink, poured water, drank deeply. His throat worked. I watched the muscles shift, remembered how they’d flexed when he held me last night.

Sofia nudged me. “You’re staring.”

I jerked. “What?”

“You’re staring at Dad like he grew horns.”

Heat flooded my face. “I I wasn’t.”

Luca set the glass down. Hard. “I’m going to shower.”

He left the room without another word.

Sofia watched him go. “Weird. He’s been off since last night too.”

My heart slammed. “Has he?”

“Yeah. Quiet. Moody. Like he’s hiding something.” She turned to me. “You’d tell me if something happened, right? Between you two?”

The question landed like a slap.

I swallowed. “Nothing happened.”

Her eyes searched mine. “Okay. Just… you’re my person, Val. Don’t shut me out.”

Guilt clawed up my throat. “I won’t.”

She hugged me quick, fierce. “Good. Now help me not burn these muffins.”

We finished baking. Ate. Laughed at stupid memes on her phone. Normal things. But every sound the creak of floorboards upstairs, the shower turning off made me flinch.

Luca came down eventually. Fresh shirt, damp hair, jaw set.

“Morning meeting,” he said to Sofia. “I’ll be in the study. Don’t burn the house down.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

He looked at me then. Just a glance. But it burned.

“I need to talk to you later,” he said quietly. “Alone.”

Sofia frowned. “What about?”

“Work thing. Valentina’s helping with some paperwork for the foundation.”

I blinked. Lie. Smooth. Effortless.

Sofia shrugged. “Okay. I’m heading to the mall with the girls anyway. Be back by dinner.”

She kissed his cheek, hugged me, grabbed her bag, and left.

The door clicked shut.

Silence again.

Luca waited until the sound of her car faded.

Then he crossed the kitchen in three strides. Grabbed my wrist. Pulled me toward the study.

“Luca”

“Quiet.”

He shut the door behind us. Locked it.

I backed up until my thighs hit the desk.

He caged me in hands on either side of my hips, body close but not touching.

“We need to stop,” he said, voice rough.

My heart sank. “Okay.”

He exhaled. “I tried. All morning. Ran five miles trying to outrun this. Didn’t work.”

I searched his face. “Then why”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about last night. The way you tasted. The way you came on my fingers. The sounds you made.”

Heat pooled low in my belly. “Luca…”

He leaned in. Nose brushing mine. “Tell me you want to stop.”

“I don’t.”

His mouth claimed mine harder than last night. Desperate. I kissed him back, hands fisting his shirt, pulling him closer.

He lifted me onto the desk. Spread my thighs. Stepped between them.

His hands slid under my hoodie, palms hot on my bare waist. I arched into him.

He broke the kiss. “We’re playing with fire.”

“I know.”

“Tell me to stop.”

I cupped his face. “Don’t.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

He kissed down my throat. Teeth grazed my collarbone. Hands pushed my hoodie up, exposing my bra. He tugged the cups down. Mouth closed over one nipple hot, wet, sucking.

I moaned too loud.

He clamped a hand over my mouth. “Quiet, Valentina. Walls are thin.”

I nodded. Bit my lip under his palm.

He switched to the other breast. Tongue circling. Teeth grazing. My hips rocked against him instinctively.

He pressed forward hard length straining against his jeans, grinding against my core.

I whimpered behind his hand.

He pulled back just enough to look at me. Eyes black with want. “You want more?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I want you inside me.”

He groaned. Hands went to my leggings yanked them down with my panties in one rough motion. Cool air hit wet skin.

He stepped back. Unbuckled his belt. Lowered his zipper.

His cock sprang free heavy, thick, already leaking.

My mouth watered.

He stepped between my thighs again. Gripped my hips. Lined himself up.

“Look at me,” he rasped.

I did.

He pushed in slow. Inch by inch. Stretching me. Filling me.

I gasped. Nails digging into his shoulders.

He bottomed out. Stilled. Forehead pressed to mine.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “So tight.”

I clenched around him. “Move.”

He did.

Slow at first long, deep thrusts. Then faster. Harder. Desk creaking under us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist. Met every thrust. The angle hit something inside me bright, electric.

His hand slid between us. Thumb on my clit. Circling.

I shattered again harder than last night. Silent scream behind clenched teeth. Body convulsing around him.

He followed seconds later growling my name, hips stuttering, spilling deep inside me.

We stayed like that panting, tangled, hearts hammering in sync.

He kissed my forehead. Soft. Tender.

“We’re fucked,” he whispered.

I laughed shaky. “Literally.”

He pulled out slowly. Tucked himself away. Helped me down. Fixed my clothes with gentle hands.

“We can’t tell her,” I said.

“I know.”

“But we can’t stop.”

He cupped my face. “No. We can’t.”

He kissed me once soft, lingering.

“Go upstairs. Shower. Act normal.”

I nodded.

He watched me leave.

I made it to my room. Locked the door. Sank to the floor.

Body sated.

Heart breaking.

We were ruined.

And we’d only just begun.