Luca Books Novels & Stories

He was eagerly looking towards her, urging with his eyes that she get up and follow the group back into the library. Katalea stood, it was time to see what all the fuss was about. They stood in a circle around Luca, who donned medical gloves that stopped at the elbow. He reached into the glass case that housed the book and before he could attempt to open the book, the front page fell open, revealing an ornate depiction of an old robbed man with a staff. He had a long gray beard, braided down his chest, and weather-beaten skin hidden mostly beneath his tattered and layered robe. His blue eyes leapt off the page imploring the reader to inquire further. Or perhaps run away. Katalea wasn’t

Silence falls upon us, pulled by the heaviness of Luca's words. The sounds of crickets, and the croaking of frogs are louder than ever. Luca's eyes shine with anger as he speaks. “The realm is crumbling down in your absence. So pardon me if I don’t give a fuck about an insignificant man dying in order to save my world; which is more significant than your tiny brain can ever comprehend.” I blink. “War? What war?”

Either way, I was hurting. Luca shut his eyes, and opened them almost immediately, the same cold glare still there. “Yes, I opened the book, and yes, I dropped my blood unto it, but that was all. And like I said, I was just fucking curious. I should have controlled my curiosity, yes I know! We wouldn't be in this situation, yes I know! But it has happened and believe me, I would change it if I could. But I fucking can't, so you have to let this go already.”

Luca’s hand squeezed mine as if he could sense every ghost trailing me. At last, we reached the library. High shelves loomed overhead, heavy with leather-bound volumes. Dust motes floated in the flashlight beam. Nathan pointed. “Top shelf. Behind the encyclopedias.” Luca dragged a chair across the floor, climbing quickly. His fingers brushed the spines, then paused. He tugged. A small black key slid free into his hand. He dropped back to the ground, pressing it into my palm. “You open it,” he said. “This is yours.”

I even squealed because he bit it a bit hard. "O-Ouch," I complained and slapped his hard chest. I held my nose and looked at him with a glare. He just smirked and went back to eating. I just continued eating, too, even though I occasionally glanced at him. After we ate, I just watched TV. My body also hurts, so I can't move much. This is all Luca's fault. He's a beast... an insatiable beast. "You have a lot of books. I think you have more books than clothes," Luca said while roaming his eyes around my bookshelf. I also have a bookshelf in my room... What he said is true; I have more books than clothes.

If I wanted answers—real answers—I’d have to get close to Luca. Luca Del Vecchio. His name had been whispered in every corner of this city—the billionaire who threw extravagant charity galas by day and ran the city’s underworld by night. No one said it outright, of course. You didn’t accuse Luca of anything if you wanted to live to see the sunrise.

A soft warmth coursed through me, staving off the cold air that enveloped the waiting room. Luca turned to his book as he opened it. His long lashes acted a shade as the light that filtered through the windows fell on his eyes. The brown hue basked in the warmth of the light, making them seem they had trapped the stars in them. I couldn’t help but admire them—him. The way his words melted me and planted a seed of warmth, the way his hands clung onto me, telling me that even if he got lost in the pages of that book, he was still here with me—I admired it all.

He handed the notebook to Saint. Saint took the book from him and started skimming through the pages. “These are Luca’s ?” he asked and looked up at said boy who blushed. “Yep,” said Jedi with a proud smile on his face. Saint looked back down at the book, flipping slowly through the papers. “These are good,” he said. “I really like this one but it looks unfinished.” He held open the book and turned it so that Luca could see. “I… I started writing that before my mom died,” said Luca as he sat on the couch. “She died a couple days after I started writing it. Just… never had the motivation to finish it.”

Could he have had her bewitched? Luca was seated with his head buried in a big white file above his laptop screen. Strands of his hair had left the crew, falling down towards his face. He had taken off his jacket and rolled it up to the sleeves. He had turned the lights low, very low, yet he could see the words in the paper in his hands without squinting in the slightest or using glasses. He fixated his eyes on the paper like it was a detailed explanation on world domination, yet, he was barely reading the continuos lines of sentences. Not when his mind was so focused on a certain brown eyed girl. He could barely even comprehend whatever it was he looking at in this book.

I wanted to yell but I kept it in. Luca’s jaw twitched, and something like .… pity flashed across his face. He didn’t apologize of course not, instead he opened a drawer and brought out a book. He handed the book to me. A thick, black, heavy manual. The kind you’d get if you were being hired as a personal assistant for a mafia boss or a royal descendant.