Chapter 8: Stirred By The Storm

The next few days passed with a cautious peace. Luca kept his distance when Amara needed it, but always checked in. He was present, not overwhelming. Supportive, not pushy.

Noah, for his part, was completely sold.

“When is Luca making that cinnamon bread again?” he asked one evening as Amara tucked him in.

“I don’t know, baby. Maybe soon.”

“He’s cool,” Noah said sleepily. “Like a superhero. But with snacks.”

Amara smiled, kissed his forehead, and turned off the light. But the quiet in her apartment only made her thoughts louder.

She wasn’t afraid of Luca’s past. She was afraid of her own expectations.

Was it possible to fall for someone while holding onto your own life?

Could she trust this world he offered—the comfort, the stability, the dreams that felt too big to be hers?

The Next Day – Storm Warning

It started raining by mid-afternoon. The clouds rolled in heavy and fast, thunder rumbling above Bellwood Falls like a warning.

Inside Terra e Fiamma, the air was thick with tension too. Sofia was back.

She wasn’t loud. She didn’t cause a scene. But she was everywhere—whispering with staff, walking through the kitchen, smiling too brightly at Luca.

Amara kept her head down and her hands busy, trying not to let it rattle her.

But it did.

During break, she found Luca in his office, papers spread out in front of him. He looked up, surprised to see her.

“She’s still here,” Amara said.

“She’s leaving tonight. I told her I’m staying. That I’ve made my choice.”

“And does she believe you?”

“She doesn’t need to,” he said. “You do.”

Amara stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “It’s hard to trust when you’re standing in someone else’s shadow.”

“You’re not,” he said, rising from his chair. “You’re the only thing in the room.”

She let him come to her. Let him wrap his arms around her waist and press his forehead to hers.

“I’ve had every kind of success,” he whispered. “But nothing has ever felt like home until you.”

Amara’s eyes burned.

And then—

CRACK.

The lights flickered and went out.

The storm had knocked out the power.

Emergency Mode

The team scrambled, flashlights flicking on, gas burners snuffed out for safety. Luca barked orders, guiding staff to close the kitchen and send the remaining guests home.

Amara moved through the chaos instinctively—helping pack up leftovers, calming nervous servers, checking exits.

By the time things settled, the staff had cleared out, and only she and Luca remained inside the now-dark restaurant.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, breathless. “That was… intense.”

He handed her a flashlight, the glow casting shadows across his face. “You handled it like a pro.”

 She gave a tired laugh. “I’ve handled worse. Like a toddler with stomach flu during a blackout.”

“That sounds worse than a Michelin inspection.”

“Oh, it is.”

They stood there, quiet for a beat, the sound of rain drumming against the roof.

“You want to stay until the storm passes?” Luca asked.

She hesitated. “Is that smart?”

“Maybe not.

“But?”

“I want you here.”

Her heart squeezed. “Then okay.”

Later That Night

They sat on the floor near the prep station, a candle flickering between them, a half-finished bottle of red wine open on the counter.

“You ever think about quitting?” Amara asked.

“Every week,” Luca said honestly. “Running restaurants is insane. I just hide it well.”

She smiled. “You don’t seem afraid of anything.”

“I am. All the time.”

“Of what?”

He looked at her.

“Of finally finding something good and not knowing how to keep it.”

The words hit her deep.

Because that was her fear too.

They leaned in at the same time, their lips meeting again—slow and unhurried. No expectations. No distractions.

Just warmth.

Just truth.

Just them.

When they broke apart, Luca cupped her face, his voice low and certain.

“I’m falling for you, Amara.”

She held his gaze. “Then fall. But don’t expect me to catch you unless you’re ready to land.”

He smiled.

And she knew he understood.