05 - Wrecking My Stepbrother's Wedding.

Luca's POV.

I find it hard to believe this. We used protection—I made sure of it.

The only time I don’t is with Viv because she’s on birth control, and I always check that she never misses a pill. But Wren is convinced the baby is mine. She brought up some night a few weeks ago, one I barely remember, and just the thought of it makes my throat tighten with disgust.

It was after the engagement announcement. Three weeks ago. Viv had been furious, kissing some random guy right in front of me just to piss me off. So I did the same—grabbed the nearest warm body and made sure she saw. And of course, that had to be Wren.

Now she’s telling everyone;my father, hers, my stepmother, before the wedding plans even got finalized. She’s boxing me in, making it impossible to run.

I left her crying in the bedroom and stepped into the shower, scrubbing my skin raw like it could wash away the mess I’ve made. The water was scalding, but I barely felt it. My mind was racing, turning over every possible way out of this.

I don’t know what to do.

Viv and I already had a plan. We were supposed to leave all of this behind. I’ve been working with my realtor to secure the penthouse in England, a place where we could finally be together without hiding. And now this...this is a heavy complication.

When I step out of the shower, Wren is asleep on the bed, her face still blotchy from crying. My stomach twists at the thought of waking up to her every day for the rest of my life. With a baby. Damn it. I can’t do it. I can’t.

I grab a pair of slippers and slip out of the house, heading straight for the beach. I need air. I need space. I need to think and breathe.

It’s cold out here, the kind of chill that seeps into your bones. Probably around 2 AM. The wedding is supposed to happen in a few hours, everything was set, everything was perfect. And now this.

I grit my teeth, fighting back the burn in my eyes as Viv’s face flashes in my mind. How the hell am I going to tell her? Wren being pregnant changes everything. It’s not just about us anymore: it’s about an heir, something my father would kill to secure.

I yank my shirt off, tossing it over a nearby palm tree before stripping down to my briefs. The air bites at my skin as I step into the water, the shock of cold hitting me like a slap. I dive under, letting the salt sting my eyes, my lungs burning until I finally break the surface.

I drag my hands through my hair, pushing it back, and that’s when I see her.

Viv.

She’s standing at the edge of the shore, arms crossed, watching me with a small smile. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie and jean shorts, her legs smooth and endless under the moonlight. Her makeup’s gone, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She’s so gorgeous it hurts.

“How did you know I was here, Tesoro?” I ask, wading toward her.

She reaches out, ruffling my wet hair playfully. “I was in the kitchen when you left. Figured I’d come along.”

I exhale, running a hand down my face. “Yeah… we should go back, though.” I grab my clothes, pulling my shirt on over my damp skin before tugging my pants back up. They hang loose on my hips, sticking where the saltwater hasn’t dried yet.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

My cheeks heat up despite myself. I love when she says things like that, even if it’s just her usual flirty lines. But right now, I can’t let myself get distracted.

I try to ignore it, stepping closer. “It’s getting late, Viv. We have to go back.”

She doesn’t move. Instead, she takes a few steps forward, backing me against a tree. It’s dark here, secluded enough that no one would see us. But I can’t look at her—not when she asks, “You’ve ended it already, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have.” The lie tastes bitter.

I will end it. I just need time to figure out how. I can’t hurt her. I can’t risk losing her. Not now. Not ever.

But she sees right through me. “You don’t look happy, Luca.” She pouts, tilting her head.

I pull her close, my arm tightening around her waist. “I’m just anxious, Viv. I don’t know what my dad will say—or your mom. I’m worried about all of it. What if you regret this? Throwing your life away for me?”

She cups my cheek, her thumb brushing over my skin. “I’m not throwing it away, Luca. I love you. You are my life.”

My chest aches. I need to fix this—Wren, the baby, all of it. Before tomorrow. Before it’s too late. The thought of losing Viv, of her walking away—it’s not an option. I’d bloody die without her. Maybe it’s obsession. Maybe it’s something twisted. But I don’t care.

I hug her tighter, pressing my lips to her neck as she whispers, "I love you."

I say it back twice.

Because it’s true.

I love her. Not Wren.

And I’ll do whatever it takes to be with her.

Her knees brush against me deliberately, sending a jolt of heat straight through me. I can feel myself hardening already, the fabric of my briefs straining. My breath catches, but I force out the words anyway. I'm so responsive to her like she has me on a leash.

"Come on, Viv. We should go to sleep..."

My voice dies in my throat when her small hand wraps around me. Firmly, not quite able to hold all of me, but enough to make my hips jerk forward with a sharp gasp.

"I just want you to know," she murmurs, her voice low and possessive, "that I'm yours. And I'm not giving that up for anyone."

Then she’s sinking to her knees in front of me, fingers working at the waistband of my briefs. The second she frees me, her mouth is on me, her saliva is hot and wet, and I groan as she takes me deep. Too deep—she gags slightly, pulling back just enough to catch her breath before diving in again.

"Look at me," I demand, my voice rough.

Her eyes flick up, red-rimmed and glossy in the moonlight, still locked on mine as she works me with her mouth and hand. The sight alone is enough to make my fingers tighten in her hair, tugging just enough to hear her whimper around me.

Goodness, I love this. Love how well she knows me, how she can read exactly what I need without me saying a word. Love the way she takes me, like she’s desperate to prove something—like she’s marking her claim just as much as I am.

I can feel the pressure building, my grip on her hair tightening as my hips start to move on their own. "That’s it, Tesoro," I grit out. "Just like that—"

Then I’m coming undone, hard, down her throat. She swallows every drop, her fingers digging into my thighs as she takes it, and I nearly lose it all over again just watching her.

But I’m not done.

The second the aftershocks fade, I’m flipping her around, pressing her against the tree as I yank her shorts down. She gasps, but doesn’t resist—just braces herself, fingers scraping against the bark as I push into her from behind in one rough thrust.

She’s so beautifully tight, so warm, and I groan against her neck, my hand clamping over her mouth to muffle her sounds. Not that it helps much—she bites down on my palm, her body trembling as she tries to stay quiet.

I don’t let up. Can’t. Not when she feels this good, not when every rock of my hips has her clenching around me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.

"Still mine," I growl into her ear, my free hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. "Say it."

I'm trying to assure myself as well. I belong to her. I always will.

She nods frantically, a broken whimper escaping as I hit that spot inside her that makes her legs shake. I can feel her getting close, her body tensing, and I don’t stop—not until she’s coming apart around me, her nails digging into my arm as she muffles her cries against my hand.

Only then do I let go, spilling into her with a groan, my forehead pressed between her shoulder blades as we both try to catch our breath.

It’s rough. Messy. Maybe even a little desperate.

But it’s enough.

Enough to remind her who she belongs to.

Enough to make sure she doesn’t forget.