Page 37

LUCA

V alentina’s touch, her whispered moans, the way her nails dig into my back—all of it lingers even as the wheels hit the tarmac. She’s fallen asleep now, our son curled up against her, his small hand clutching the fabric of her dress as if sensing the weight of the world around him.

Two black, armored SUVs gleam under the runway lights as we step off the plane. Marco is already waiting, a shadowy figure leaning casually against the passenger door of the nearest car, his sharp eyes scanning the perimeter.

He straightens as we approach, nodding once. "Donna Maria’s orders—she’s to ride in the second vehicle," he says, his voice clipped.

Beside me, Valentina stiffens. I glance at her, then fix Marco with a steady gaze. "I travel with my wife and son," I say, leaving no room for debate. "If they’re in that SUV, so am I."

For a beat, silence hums like a taut wire. Then Marco’s grin slices through the tension. "Figured you’d say that," he says, pushing off the car. "No worries. The others can trail us."

No argument. Just action. Valentina and I move toward the SUV, the night pressing in around us like a held breath.

I give him a short nod as I help Valentina into the back seat, tucking Leo in beside her.

She smiles faintly at me, though the exhaustion in her eyes is unmistakable.

I close the door gently before taking my seat in the front.

Marco slides in next to me, his ever-present sense of foreboding practically radiating from him.

The car glides down the coastal highway, its engine humming steadily as the evening lights twinkle in the distance.

Valentina and Leo are in the backseat, their quiet murmurs occasionally drifting forward.

I can’t help glancing in the rearview mirror every so often, catching glimpses of them.

Valentina has her arm draped protectively around Leo, who’s clutching a little toy car he insisted on bringing.

I lean back against the cool leather, my mind restless despite the peaceful setting. Marco, sitting beside me in the front seat, is on edge, too—his sharp eyes constantly scanning the horizon.

And then it happens.

The car jerks suddenly, a sharp lurch that has Marco and me snapping forward.

“Brakes!” Marco growls, his voice cutting through the growing tension.

“What do you mean, brakes?” I demand.

The driver’s panicked voice comes next. “They’re not responding!”

The car picks up speed, the hum of the engine turning into a roar as we barrel down the highway. I glance back at Valentina, who’s gripping Leo tightly, her face pale but composed.

“Luca?” she asks, her voice thin and uncertain.

“Hold him close,” I bark, turning back to Marco. “Options?”

“There’s a sharp curve ahead,” Marco snaps, checking his phone. “If we don’t slow down, we’re going over the cliff.”

“Steady the wheel,” I order the driver. “Don’t panic. Keep us on the road as long as possible.”

Valentina’s voice rises from the back. “Luca, what’s happening?”

“Hold on,” I bite out, my mind racing.

The car veers slightly to the left, the driver fighting to keep it steady. Outside, the cliffs loom closer, the jagged rocks below promising certain death.

Marco pulls out his gun, his movements sharp and practiced. “Sabotage. Someone tampered with the brakes. This wasn’t an accident.”

The words hang in the air like a death sentence.

I glance back at Valentina again, her wide eyes locking with mine. “It’s going to be fine,” I say, even though my gut twists with doubt.

“Luca!” she cries as the car swerves violently again, the tires screeching.

“Take the emergency gravel runoff!” Marco shouts.

The driver nods, yanking the wheel hard. The car careens toward the narrow gravel path carved into the side of the road for situations just like this.

The impact rattles every bone in my body as the car slams onto the gravel, the tires struggling for grip. Rocks fly in all directions, pinging against the undercarriage as the vehicle skids uncontrollably.

“Brace!” Marco yells.

I grab onto the dashboard as the car hurtles forward, slamming into the barrier at the end of the runoff with a bone-jarring crunch.

The world tilts for a moment. My head snaps forward, the seatbelt biting into my chest.

And then, silence.

The car teeters on the edge of the cliff, its nose precariously jutting out over the abyss.

“Everyone okay?” I rasp, unbuckling my seatbelt.

“I’m fine,” Marco grunts, already reaching for his gun.

“Leo,” Valentina’s voice cracks from the backseat. “Baby, are you okay?”

Leo whimpers but nods, clutching his toy car like a lifeline.

I twist around in my seat to check them, relief flooding me as I see them both relatively unscathed.

“Stay here,” I tell Valentina, already pushing the door open.

“Luca, wait!” she protests, but I’m already out.

The cool night air hits me like a slap as I survey the area. Marco is beside me in an instant, his gun raised, his body tense.

“They’ll be watching,” Marco mutters, his voice low. “There’s no way in hell this was unplanned.”

“Then let’s give them a show,” I growl, motioning for him to cover me as I step away from the car.

Every shadow feels alive, every flicker of movement a potential threat. My pulse pounds in my ears as I scan the surrounding cliffs, the dark horizon offering little comfort.

And then I see it.

A glint of light, barely visible in the moonlight, from a ridge overlooking the highway.

“Sniper!” I bark, diving to the ground just as the first shot rings out.

The bullet slams into the car’s hood, narrowly missing the windshield.

Marco returns fire, his aim precise as he tracks the shooter. “Get them out of here!” he shouts.

“Stay down!” I yell to Valentina, running back to the car.

Her eyes are wide with terror, but she’s already unbuckling Leo’s seatbelt. “Luca, what’s happening?”

“No time to explain,” I snap, grabbing Leo and cradling him against my chest. “Marco, cover us!”

Another shot rings out, this one ricocheting off the road just inches from my feet.

Marco fires back, his movements swift and controlled. “Go!”

I grab Valentina’s arm, pulling her out of the car. She stumbles but keeps up as we sprint toward the rocky outcropping nearby, using the jagged terrain as cover.

Behind us, the car creaks ominously before finally tipping over the edge of the cliff.

The sound of it crashing onto the rocks below is deafening, the explosion lighting up the night sky.

We huddle behind the rocks, Leo whimpering softly against my chest as Valentina clings to my arm.

“Everyone okay?” Marco asks, his voice rough.

Valentina nods shakily, clutching Leo to her chest. His small face is buried in her shoulder, his muffled sobs cutting through me like a knife.

“It wasn’t an accident,” Marco mutters grimly.

“No, it wasn’t,” I agree, my jaw tightening. “Whoever did this wanted us dead.”

“Not you.” Valentina’s voice shakes as she forms the words. “Or Marco. Not you two.”

Marco’s gaze flickers to the car, then back to me. “She’s right. Someone purposefully tampered with this SUV knowing full well Valentina and Leo would be the only passengers in it. We need to act fast. Announce their deaths. It’s the only way to keep them safe while we figure this out.”

I know he’s right. “Do it. Spread the word. Valentina and Leo are dead.”

Valentina doesn’t speak as the car glides along the quiet, shadowy streets.

Leo’s soft breaths hitch against her chest, his little arms looped tightly around her neck.

She looks out the window, her profile illuminated by passing streetlights, and I see the same fire that’s been burning in her since the moment I met her—only now, it’s accompanied by exhaustion and fear.

The car pulls to a stop outside a nondescript hotel. It’s far from the luxury of the estate, far from the gilded walls that have shielded them—however imperfectly—from the chaos of my world. But it’s safe. For now, that’s all that matters.

I step out of the car, my eyes sweeping the dimly lit surroundings. Marco moves silently at my side, his presence steady, alert.

“We’re here,” I say, opening the back door.

Valentina glances at me, her expression calm but resolute. Carefully, she untangles herself from Leo’s small frame, cradling him as she steps out with practiced ease.

Her eyes scan the building, and I see her calculating—not with anger or unease, but with the precision of someone who knows what’s at stake. “How long do we stay?” she asks, her tone low, even.

“Not long,” I reply. “It’s temporary, but secure. No one will think to look for us here.”

She nods, adjusting Leo in her arms. “Good.”

We move inside quickly, the modest lobby coming into view: worn wooden paneling, the faint hum of an old ceiling fan, and a clerk who barely glances up from his crossword puzzle. This is the kind of place designed to be forgotten.

Marco hands me the keys, and I waste no time heading for the stairs. Valentina follows close behind, her steps silent, purposeful. On the second floor, the hallway stretches ahead, dim and quiet, the faded carpet swallowing our footfalls.

I unlock the door to their room and push it open. The space is small but clean—two beds, a table, a chair, and heavy curtains to block out prying eyes.

Valentina steps inside and sets Leo down gently on one of the beds. He stirs, rubbing his eyes, but stays quiet, clutching his toy car. Her gaze sweeps the room, sharp and discerning. “It’ll do,” she says, her voice matter-of-fact.

I glance at her, a flicker of relief tugging at the tension in my chest. “I’ll check in regularly. Marco will be close by. No one will get near you.”

She meets my eyes, her expression steady. “I know,” she says simply. “I trust you.”

Fuck. I love her. “Good.”

Behind me, Marco clears his throat. “We should move. Staying too long isn’t wise.”