Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Wrong Kind Of Right: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

The jet touched down just past noon in a coastal European city, one known more for its discretion than its fame.The tarmac shimmered beneath the sun, but inside the jet, everything was still and hushed, wrapped in a soft kind of anticipation.Luca leaned forward in his seat, sunglasses on, blazer slung casually over his shoulder.Asher had changed into something simpler, black polo, charcoal slacks, but his eyes tracked the motion of the ground crew like a soldier still half in the field.“Relax,” Luca said, watching him. “No one here knows us.”“That’s the point,” Asher replied, voice dry. “I’m just making sure they keep it that way.”The plane door hissed open, and a controlled breeze swept through the cabin.A sleek black town car waited at the edge of the private strip, the driver holding the door with perfect posture.Asher grabbed both their bags before Luca could even blink.“You’re still doing that?” Luca teased. “You know I’m technically stronger than I look.”“Technically,”

Serena had spent years building a version of herself that made her untouchable, curated, cruel when needed, elegant always. But Asher was the one person who’d always seen behind the glass. And now, with Luca in his hands, he held her carefully constructed world by the throat.So she sat there, smiling like a perfect daughter in law, telling Paolo everything he wanted to hear. Because keeping Luca was no longer the point.Keeping herself from falling was.“Your mother will be pleased with the arrangements,” Paolo was saying. “We’ll host the final ceremony on the estate grounds. Nothing like tradition to solidify a legacy.”Serena lifted her coffee cup. “To tradition,” she said, clinking it against his.And to hiding in plain sight.Meanwhile, thousands of miles away… Luca stood on the balcony of their suite, hair windswept, shirt half unbuttoned, a glass of something strong in his hand, but his eyes were soft.Laughter lingered in the air behind him from where Asher was still sprawled

Asher reached for him without thinking, dragging him in, crashing their mouths together with a force that stole the air. It wasn’t sweet, wasn’t careful. It was hungry.Desperate.Teeth and lips, breath and heat. Clothes still on but fists in fabric, pulling, anchoring.Luca kissed him like punishment and apology all at once.By the time they broke apart, Luca’s hand was around the back of Asher’s neck, thumb brushing his pulse, holding him there, not to trap him, but to claim him.“I don’t care if it’s stupid,” Luca whispered, forehead resting on Asher’s. “But don’t let anyone else think they’ve got a chance. Not when I’m still breathing.”Asher’s heart pounded, loud and chaotic in his chest.He nodded once. “Then breathe for a long damn time.”They didn’t need to say more.Not right now.Luca kissed him again.This time, it wasn’t punishment or jealousy, it was hunger, deep and unapologetic.His hands slid down Asher’s back, gripping tight, anchoring, pulling him closer until there

Luca cursed under his breath.The sound was sharp. Guttural. It startled even him.He hated this.Hated the way his hands trembled with restraint.Hated that one knock on a door had turned them into strangers again.Hated himself most of all, for not having the spine to tell the world to go to hell.At the window, Asher stood motionless.He still hadn’t turned.Didn’t even flinch.Because why should he?Asher didn’t need Luca to want him in the shadows.He didn’t need lukewarm desire laced with shame.He didn’t need the son of Paolo Virelli if all Luca could do was hide.And yet… he had wanted him.That morning, when their legs tangled under the covers, when Luca had kissed his spine and made him laugh before breakfast, Asher had wanted him.Now?Now he was a statue made of all the things Luca couldn’t say aloud.Luca’s voice cracked when he finally spoke. “You’re not going to say anything?”Asher didn’t answer.Didn’t move.Didn’t even look.It hurt more than it should’ve.“Fine,” Lu

He pushed the chair back suddenly, pacing the office like a caged thing.It was too quiet. Too still. He wanted to scream, throw something, go downstairs and..And what?Demand that Asher explain?Demand what, exactly?Why he’s acting like the man I keep pushing him to be?Luca stopped, braced his hands against the glass window.He didn’t want anyone else to have Asher.He didn’t want to lose this.Him.But he couldn’t have it both ways.He couldn’t keep hiding and expect Asher to wait quietly in the dark.A knock startled him this time.“Sir?” It was the assistant, voice soft. “The client files for tomorrow.”Luca turned, mask slipping back over his face like instinct.“Leave it on the table,” he said without looking back.As the door closed again, he let his head fall forward, forehead resting against the cold glass.Somewhere across the city, Asher was alone. Probably hurting. Maybe even regretting him.And Luca...Luca was still here.Trapped in a world that wanted to own every pi