Page 31 of Flawed

She places her palm on my cheek, quietly answering, "I-I'm so sorry, Luca. I can't imagine what that was like for you."

I inhale deeply then shove all those feelings to wherever I push them to so I can cope. I turn to her and, in an emotionless tone, state, "It was a long time ago. Get some rest, stellina." I kiss her on the forehead and then roll on my side, unable to continue this conversation.

I thought I could figure out how to be with her, but I was wrong.

There's only one reason I'm still alive. It's to take down every Abruzzo I can.

I won't rest until Jacopo and everyone he cares about are dead.

Chanel is right. No matter how much I want her, we can't be together. I'll never allow her into my world as it currently stands. I don't even know how I allowed myself to think about the possibilities. Choosing her means giving up on the vengeance my parents deserve. And I didn't come this far to stop now.

6

Chanel

Luca rolls over,and his shoulders flex, showing the tension that grows in the air.

His father was killed by an enemy?

Was it a Marino?

His mother committed suicide when he was a child.

Am I wrong about the Marinos? Are they bad, too?

No. The Abruzzos are the ones who are evil.

What if the Marinos are as bad as the Abruzzos?

The questions I've never asked myself before, now plague me. I envision Luca as a little boy, devastated over losing his father and then his mother. It cuts me, making me feel like I'm going to choke on my emotions.

Neither of us moves, somehow making the situation worse.

All I see through the darkness is his pain, spreading over him like a mature vine. No matter who his family is, he didn't deserve to lose his parents. No child should have to experience what he did. Maybe it's my growing motherly instincts, but it seems even crueler now that I'm carrying his child.

When I can't stand it anymore, I scoot closer until my body curls around his. He stiffens as I slide my arm over his waist and rest it on his racing heart. I press my lips to the back of his neck and murmur, "I'm sorry. You deserved better than what life handed you."

In a cold voice, he replies, "It happened a long time ago. Go to sleep, Chanel."

The tone of his statement makes me cringe. I've never heard him speak to me so abrasively. It shows me how much he's still hurting from the past. Instead of obeying, I slide my other arm under his neck and squeeze him tighter.

He fills his chest with fresh air, holding on to it for what feels like forever, before releasing it in a slow, quiet manner. He does it several times then turns, tugging me into his chest and ordering, "Close your eyes."

"Luca—"

"You need your rest. No more talking, only sleep," he demands.

I wait a moment, tilt my head up, and start again, "Luca, I... I'm..."

What am I trying to say?

His dark, hardened eyes lock on mine.

It cuts me to the core. Inside that expression is a deep-seated, real pain. I reach for his cheek, stroking it with my thumb.

Moments pass before I open my mouth, but he flips me on my back so fast I gasp. He cages his body over mine and lowers his lips, gently exploring my mouth with a growing intensity that steals my breath.

I clutch him, loving the weight of his body over mine, circling my tongue against his in perfect rhythm until he pulls back an inch and studies me.

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