Chapter 12

The morning came quietly.

Sunlight slipped through the sheer curtains, golden and warm, painting the room in soft amber. Dust floated lazily in the air, undisturbed. The world outside had started to stir, but here—within the walls of Luca’s bedroom—it still felt like night hadn’t truly ended.

Emilia stirred beneath the linen sheets, her bare leg brushing against his. For a moment, she didn’t open her eyes—she just felt. The weight of his arm across her waist. The steady rise and fall of his breath. The warmth of his chest beneath her cheek.

It felt like the safest place she’d ever known.

And that terrified her.

Her fingers drifted along his side, tracing the faintest scar across his ribs. She remembered the way he’d held her last night—not like a possession, not like something fragile, but like something his... something cherished.

She opened her eyes slowly.

Luca was already awake.

His head rested on the pillow beside her, face turned toward her, eyes quietly watching. There was no smile. Just… stillness. Thoughtfulness. Like he was memorizing her all over again in the quiet morning light.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he said back, voice low and rough from sleep—or maybe from everything left unspoken.

For a long moment, they just looked at each other.

Then Luca’s hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek. “You okay?”

Emilia gave a soft nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

She hesitated. Then added, “I don’t regret it. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

He exhaled slowly, relief threading through the tension in his shoulders. “I wasn’t sure what you’d feel waking up next to me. After everything.”

“I feel…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Full. Scared. But not of you.”

He studied her for a second longer, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was gentler than anything they'd shared last night—but somehow it felt heavier, more binding.

“I don’t want to pull you deeper into this world,” he said. “I know what it costs.”

She met his gaze. “Luca… I’ve already paid.”

Silence settled again. Not uncomfortable—just real. The kind of silence that only exists after every wall has fallen.

“I don’t know what happens next,” she said softly.

“Neither do I.” His thumb stroked her hip beneath the sheet. “But I know I’m not letting you go. Not unless you make me.”

Emilia looked away for a second, then back at him.

“You’ve already seen all the broken pieces,” she whispered. 

He nodded once. “And I’m still here.”

They lay in the silence of morning for a little longer, wrapped in each other, heartbeats in sync.

But somewhere, beyond the warmth of the bed and the golden haze of sunrise, they both felt it—the world pressing in again.

And they knew this peace would not last forever.

The scent of aged scotch and tobacco clung to the air, thick and unmoving. The only light came from the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the dark wood-paneled walls. Luca sat in his high-backed leather chair, the flame's glow dancing across the silver in his beard and the cold steel in his eyes.

Marco stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, tension coiled in his shoulders.

“We need to talk about Volkov. And Isadora,” Marco said, voice low but steady.

Luca didn’t look up from the chessboard between them, a half-finished game left in stasis. “What about them?”

“She stole the flash drive. But none of our offshore accounts have been touched. None of our contacts have gone dark. If she handed it to Volkov, they’re sitting on it.”

That made Luca glance up. His expression didn’t shift, but the stillness in his gaze sharpened.

Marco pressed on. “Which makes me think they’re playing a longer game. Or they're waiting. But waiting for what?”

Luca finally leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. “You think this is restraint?”

“No,” Marco said. “I think it’s leverage. They're holding the information like a loaded gun. Which begs the question: why hasn’t it gone off yet?”

Silence settled again, save for the crackle of the fire.

Marco took a step forward. “You got Volkov’s message. He wants a meeting. You going to take it?”

Luca’s eyes narrowed. “He asks for a meeting, not demands one. That tells me even he’s unsure of the ground he’s standing on.”

“And Isadora?”

Luca’s expression hardened slightly. “She’s Emilia’s blood. But that doesn’t buy her a pass.”

“She’s not using what she stole,” Marco said quietly. “Maybe that means something.”

“Or maybe it means she’s waiting for us to think that.”

They locked eyes. The fire hissed as a log split in the hearth.

“So?” Marco asked again. “You going to meet him?”

Luca reached for the crystal glass by his elbow and took a long sip before answering.

“I’ll meet him,” he said finally. “But not on his terms.”

Emilia was asleep again after their afternoon shenanigans, he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. She was so innocent, so teachable and he was definitely using it to his advantage. He prepared for his meeting with Dimitri and planted a kiss on her cheeks before leaving.

The theater was a relic from another era — velvet seats torn, chandeliers long shattered, the stage draped in dust and shadows. But the acoustics were perfect. Every footstep echoed like a warning.

Luca entered through the back, flanked by Marco and two men he trusted with his life. He hated theatrics, but tonight, he made an exception. If Volkov wanted drama, he’d get it — Luca’s way.

Dimitri Volkov was already seated near the stage, legs crossed like he owned the crumbling world around him. Isadora stood slightly behind him, arms folded, eyes sharp but unreadable.

Luca didn’t sit. He stayed standing, just at the edge of the proscenium.

“You wanted a meeting,” Luca said. “You got one. But this isn’t Russia. You’re in my city, so speak carefully.”

Dimitri’s lips curled slightly. “I don’t mind the venue. Theatrics suit the truth.” He gestured casually toward Isadora. “You asked where I met her over the phone. Thought you’d want the full story.”

Luca’s gaze flicked to the young woman. She didn’t flinch.

“It was a few years ago,” Dimitri continued. “She worked at a tiny place off the coast in Rovinj. Summer job. She brought out my coffee, spilled it, and cursed in three languages. I fell in love by dessert.”

Luca turned to look at Isadora, who from that look knew that Emilia had told him the real story.

Luca didn’t move. “That doesn’t explain why she stole from me.”

“She didn’t steal. She delivered.”

“To you.”

“To justice.”

He brought out the flash drive and tossed it towards Marco. “You can have it back, there’s nothing was nothing on it really.”

Marco shifted at that, and picked up the flash.

Volkov leaned forward, eyes gleaming with confidence. “You built an empire on loyalty, fear, and silence. But what if I told you I have something that cuts through all three?”

Luca’s expression darkened. “You came here to play chess with a man who sets fire to boards.”

“No. I came with an offer. And leverage, or let me put it in an appropriate manner. Someone you will be dying to see.” Volkov pulled a small photo from his coat pocket and slid it across the old piano between them.

Luca stepped forward and took it.

His fingers froze.

It was a photograph. Weathered. Faded. But unmistakable.

Cece.

Not from twenty years ago — not the girl who died in Sicily — but now. Older. Alive.

Luca looked up slowly, ice running through his veins.

“You’re lying,” he said flatly.

“I’m not,” Dimitri replied. “She’s alive. She’s been alive. Hidden. Protected. By me.”

Silence descended like a curtain.

Dimitri stood now too, meeting Luca’s gaze head-on.

“In exchange for access to your supply routes through the Adriatic, I give you Cece. Safe, unharmed.”

Luca’s jaw tightened.

“And if I say no?”

“Then you lose her again. Forever. And this time… the casket won’t be empty.”

Luca turned his head slightly, not to look away, but to keep himself from moving — because every muscle in his body demanded retribution.

Instead, he smiled — thin, humorless.

“You’re not the first man to walk into my world thinking he knows what I want.”

“No,” Dimitri said. “But I might be the first one who’s right.”

“She stays.” He gestured towards Isadora.

“No”

“Then I get ten minutes with her”

“I didn’t know you moved that way Rossi” Dimitri said but Luca didn’t agree or disagree, he only held her arms and dragged her to the back of the theater.

“You could bring the other one the next time we see too” Dimitri shouted from behind.

“Speak.” Luca demanded.

“He doesn’t have the flash I took from you, no one does. I put it in a safety box somewhere in Nice.” She said quickly 

“And you guys fell in love in that restaurant?” He asked

“That wasn’t me. He thinks it was me he met in the restaurant. He thinks I’m Emilia.” she said with so much relief and pain at the same time. 

Luca for the first time saw a little emotion in her. He believed her but didn’t admit that.

“And Cece?”

“I’ve seen her twice, she is alive.”

“Well aren’t you so quick to give out information?” He questioned her

“Luca I swear on my sister’s life, I am not. There’s no time to say more. Get me out of his house and then I will give you the location for the safety deposit box.”

Isadora

“Did he ask about his sister?” Dimitri smirked

“Yes. Mostly if I had seen her and trying to know if I saw some birthmarks that confirmed she was the one.” She replied

“That’s all??” He raised a brow as if not believing her

“He told me he was going to kill me and feed me to his dogs but he will kill my sister first then I would be next.”

“Typical Rossi” he laughed and the conversation ended there as they headed home.

Back at Luca’s

“YOU SAW ISA TODAY???!!! You said nothing to me about it Luca. What do you take me for? A girl you kidnapped, use as you like? Or someone who just warms your bed??” Emilia spoke as she was pacing up and down the room.

“What did she say? What happened? Tell me!” She lowered her voice and used her puppy green eyes.

“ I was just going to sleep elsewhere if you kept the shouting up” he said

“Oh really? Just leave me all alone on this big bed?”

“Nah, I’d fuck your brains out, then leave you.”

“Mama was right, you’re definitely so evil” the words had left her mouth before she realized she said “mama”

Luca raised a curious brow at her and before she tried to weasel her way out of it

“Mama?? Speak now and you better fucking not be lying."