All Chapters of The Price of Forever : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Avery’s POVFive days had passed since the elevator incident, and apparently, that was all it took for my life to develop another routine I never thought I would have. Training. Actual physical training. Five days ago, I could barely walk past one of Luca’s security guards without wondering what they were looking at. Now, I was waking up sore, stretching before breakfast and somehow willingly agreeing to spend part of my day getting exhausted on purpose.I still wasn’t sure how that happened. The first morning after the elevator incident, Luca had told me that the trainer would arrive at nine. I had expected someone to show up and immediately start teaching me how to fight. Instead, Michelle had walked into the apartment, looked at me for approximately ten seconds and told me to touch my toes.I couldn’t.Apparently, that was a problem. The first few days weren’t anything like I imagined. There were no dramatic punches, no weapons…she wasn’t even teaching me fancy moves. Mostly, I str

Luca’s POVAvery was still leaning against me when I realized I had been staring at the same spot on the wall for the last five minutes. Not that I was complaining. Having her in my arms was infinitely better than thinking about shipment discrepancies, compromised security systems and the possibility that someone was deliberately testing my patience.I looked down at her, “Are you comfortable?”“Very,” she said, snuggling deeper into me.“Good.”She shifted against me, then winced.I raised an eyebrow, “What was that?”“Nothing,” she clamped her lips shut.“Avery.”“My body hates me.”I laughed.She lifted her head to glare at me, “I’m serious, Luca. I think Michelle and Glyn have something against me personally.”“You’ve known Glyn for less than a day,” I said, smiling softly.“And he’s already making me suffer. What does that tell you?”“That you’re not very good at taking instructions?”Her mouth fell open, “Wow.”I grinned, “You asked.”“I didn’t ask you to insult me.”“I’m sorry,

Luca’s POVI read the access history over and over again because there was something about the sequence of requests that I didn’t like, and I had learned a long time ago not to ignore a feeling. Marco stood beside my desk, one hand resting on the back of the empty chair opposite me, his eyes fixed on the computer screen. The office had been quiet for the better part of an hour. Most of the staff had gone home, leaving the upper floors of the building almost deserted, and the only sounds were the low hum of the ventilation system and the occasional click of Marco’s mouse as he moved between records.Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Venice was still awake. Lights glowed from the buildings across the canal, their reflections stretching and breaking apart whenever a boat passed through the water. It was late enough that I should have been home. Instead, I was sitting behind my desk with my jacket thrown over the back of my chair, the top button of my shirt undone, and several hours’ w

Luca’s POVBy four in the afternoon, I had attended two meetings, rejected a proposal that should never have made it to my desk, and spent forty minutes listening to a man explain why a shipment delay was not his fault.It was, in fact, entirely his fault.I was beginning to think that if I disappeared for a week, half the people working for me would panic, and the other half would use the opportunity to make decisions they would spend the following month regretting. Neither possibility appealed to me.I signed the last document in front of me and leaned back in my chair, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension that had settled there. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Venice glowed beneath the late afternoon sun. The canal below my office was busy with boats, their wakes disturbing the reflections of the old buildings lining the water. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang, its sound carrying faintly through the glass.My phone vibrated beside the documents. I knew it was

Luca’s POVA few days later, I stood in front of the hall for what could be the worst night in a while.The Palazzo Contarini was lit from the inside, its enormous windows spilling golden light onto the driveway below. Gondolas drifted past the entrance, their passengers turning their heads to admire the building, while black cars lined the street outside, delivering people whose names carried enough weight to open doors without an invitation.I shook my head with a quiet scoff. The Ramano family had never been particularly fond of doing things quietly.Inside, the staff had transformed the main hall into something that belonged in a magazine. Chandeliers hung from the painted ceilings, scattering light across polished marble floors. White roses filled tall crystal vases, and a string quartet played near the staircase while waiters moved between guests with trays of champagne. The air smelled of expensive perfume, fresh flowers and the faint sweetness of wine.I adjusted the cuff of m