The moment his voice rang out—"Why not? Of course I can take care of her"—I felt my breath falter. My lips parted, my eyes widened. He had said it so casually, but the weight of it struck me harder than any insult ever could.
And then came the words that cut even deeper. "But she doesn't need anyone to take care of her. She doesn't need to rely on anyone—unlike a certain certified slut."
My heart jolted. Heat rose in my chest, not from embarrassment, but from something far more dangerous. For once, someone had spoken for me—not to belittle, not to shame, not to control—but to shield. Luca's voice, sharp as a blade, became my shield.
But that shield terrified me. Didn't he understand? These people weren't worth it. Their venom wasn't worth his fury. If he stayed in this fight, if he let it consume him, I feared where it would lead.
I tugged at his shirt, my voice low, urging, "Let it go."
