Chapter 9 - CONFESSIONS IN THE DARK
The snow was finally melting in Manhattan. Luca sat in the dimly lit bedroom of the secure penthouse, his jacket off, his white shirt stained with a few drops of blood—none of it his own. Marco was in the living room, a doctor stitching up his minor shoulder wound.
The door opened softly, and Elena stepped in. She saw the blood and rushed to him, her hands frantically checking him for wounds. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine. I'm untouched, Elena," Luca assured her, capturing her hands in his. "It's over. Alberto is dead. Silvio is dead. The Commission has reaffirmed my position. You and Noah are completely safe."
Elena slumped forward, burying her face in his chest, a sob of pure, unadulterated relief tearing from her throat. Luca held her tightly, stroking her hair.
"I love you," he whispered into the quiet room, the words pouring out of him like a flood breaking a dam. "I have never stopped loving you, Elena. Not for a single day in the last six years. When I thought you left me, I turned to ice. I built a mountain of money and power because I thought it would fill the hole you left. But it was all dust. You are my heart. You and Noah."
Elena looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "I loved you so much, Luca. Leaving you broke me. I watched you from afar. I saw the news articles, the rumors of you and Vanessa, and it killed me every single time. But I looked at Noah, and I knew I had to endure it to keep him safe."
"You never have to endure anything alone again," Luca promised, resting his forehead against hers. "I am going to change everything. I’m stripping the illegal operations down. I'm turning the syndicate fully legitimate. No more blood. No more hiding. I want to marry you, Elena. Properly. I want to take you and Noah somewhere beautiful, where the only thing we have to worry about is what time the sun sets."
May you like
Elena smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that illuminated the dark room. She reached up and pulled him down into a passionate, desperate kiss. It was a kiss that erased six years of pain, a reclamation of their stolen future.
"Yes," she breathed against his lips. "Yes, Luca."
