The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. But Luca's mind wasn't. His head spun, the whiskey burning but not enough to stop the storm inside him. He'd taken a few drinks to calm down, but it hadn't worked. Nothing could calm him tonight.
He remembered Viet. His screams. The way he had punished him without hesitation, without guilt. Just cold, sharp satisfaction. And it reminded him of himself. The boy he used to be. The one who had watched his father choke on his own blood and felt nothing but thrill. That boy was still inside him. Always had been.
He slammed the glass down on the desk. It shattered, glass flying everywhere. He didn't even flinch. Didn't care. His jaw hurt from clenching. His chest felt tight. His mind was screaming for silence.
He walked. Didn't even think about it. His feet moved on their own, down the hall, toward a door he had tried to avoid. Mia's room.
He pushed the door open quietly. She was there. Curled on the bed, her hair falling over her face. She looked peaceful, fragile. And for some reason, that almost made him stop. He wanted to just… touch her. Not hurt her. Just feel her near him.
He lowered himself onto the bed slowly. His hand brushed her waist lightly. Just a touch. Testing. Seeing if she'd disappear.
She stirred. Eyes opening. Wide with fear. Her body tensed, she twisted away.
"Calm down," he said, voice low, rough, slurred with drink. "I just… I just want to hold you. Don't fight me."
She struggled, trying to push him away. And something inside him snapped. He pressed her down, chest against hers, holding her to the bed.
"You should've just relaxed," he said, voice rough. "Let me hold you."
She cried. Muffled, desperate, but he didn't stop. His hand tore her nightgown. She screamed, he silenced her with his mouth(kisses),Every part of it was desperate, violent, and out of control.
She fought. Tried to push him off. But it only made him worse. He grabbed his belt, his jacket. Then the gun came out. Cold, hard, pressed against the mattress beside her head. Not to hurt. To stop her. To make her still.
"Shhh," he whispered, hoarse. "Don't fight me. It won't hurt. I promise." His lips went back to hers.
Her stomach turned. Tears ran down her cheeks. She shook her head. She couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
And then he tasted her tears. That broke him. The monster inside him paused. He looked down at her. Really looked. Small. Fragile. Broken. Terrified.
"Damn you…" he whispered. His voice cracked. "You're making me go crazy."
The belt slipped. The gun hit the floor. And he did the only thing he could think of. He pulled her into his chest. Held her. Pressed his face into her hair. Just breathed.
"I… I'm sorry," he said, voice jagged. "I just… I lost control."
She didn't answer. She didn't have to. Her sobs shook her body, but she was exhausted. Finally, she gave in. Trembling, scared, she drifted into a fitful sleep in his arms.
Luca stayed still. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. His hands shook where they rested on her tiny body. He had never held anyone like this. Not as a kid. Not anyone. Never.
He still had some whiskey left in his veins, but it didn't matter. He had crossed a line. Seen fear in her eyes. Raw. Unfiltered. And it burned him worse than anything he'd ever felt.
He tilted his head back. Stared at the ceiling. Jaw aching. Memories of his father's voice came back, mocking. "Weakness will kill you, boy. Compassion will rot you from the inside."
But this wasn't compassion. Not exactly. It was worse. Hungrier. A need for her, for her closeness. For her trust. Something impossible.
He cursed under his breath. What the hell was happening to him? He could kill, torture, make men bleed, no hesitation. But one girl's tears… her fragility… had undone him.
He looked down at her. She was asleep now. Vulnerable. Defenseless. Shouldn't even be in his world. Should hate him. But she didn't. And he hadn't destroyed her.
A hollow laugh left him. Pathetic. Luca Romano—the monster—on the edge of losing everything not to violence, but to her.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face. Gentle. Reverent. If anyone saw him now… they'd think he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had.
He pressed his forehead to hers. Just a moment. Her warmth grounded him. Made his ragged breath steady. He wanted to stay like this. Forget the world outside. Forget the monster he was.
But morning would come. And with it, the reminder. He was no hero. Not a protector. Just the monster she feared.
For now… he let himself be mad. Whispered words no one would hear.
"Sleep, little dove… I'll keep the demons away. Even if one of them is me."
Was it a promise? A lie? He didn't know.
But one thing was sure. Holding her, breathing her in, Luca Romano was no longer fully in control.