Page 17 of Saint (The Divine Ruin #2)

Luca

I slam my fist against the steering wheel of my Ferrari, earning concerned glances from pedestrians as I idle at a red light. Three days. Three fucking days and she’s still running from me. From us.

The light turns green and I accelerate harder than necessary, the engine growling in response to my frustration.

Albany wasn’t part of the plan. Lily was supposed to be in Manhattan, where I could keep an eye on her, where my influence stretches like a spider’s web across the city.

But the little minx fled to Daddy’s mansion, thinking distance would weaken my resolve.

She doesn’t understand yet. Distance only makes me more determined.

I pull up to Nico’s comfortable home in Woodstock.

It’s only temporary, but still a far cry from his former quarters at St. Francis’s Church.

Marriage has changed my oldest friend in ways I never expected.

Left the priesthood for love—a concept that would have made me laugh a month ago. Now? I’m not so sure.

Nico opens the door before I can knock, his expression shifting from welcome to concern as he takes in my thunderous face.

“That bad, huh?” he asks, stepping aside to let me in.

“Worse,” I grunt, striding past him into the warm, spice-scented living room. The space feels lived-in now, feminine touches softening the edges of Nico’s former existence.

“Caterina’s is at an appointment nearby,” he says, answering my unasked question. “We have the place to ourselves.”

He gestures to the leather couch, but I’m too wired to sit. Instead, I pace the length of his living room, hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.

“She ran,” I finally say, the words burning my throat like acid. “To Albany. To her father’s fucking mansion.”

Nico’s eyebrows lift slightly. “The governor’s daughter? That’s who has you tied in knots?”

I whirl on him, ready to snap, but the understanding in his eyes deflates my anger. He’s the only person in the world who can look at me like that without consequences.

“Her name is Lily,” I say, softer now. “And yes, she’s Jackson Moore’s daughter.”

Nico lets out a low whistle. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“Never have.” I finally drop onto his couch, running a hand through my hair. “She’s... different, Nico. Smart. Fierce. Sees right through my bullshit.”

“And beautiful, I assume.”

I close my eyes, seeing her face—those striking blue eyes, that full mouth that trembles when I touch her. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

When I open my eyes, Nico is watching me with an expression I can’t quite place. Something between amusement and concern.

“What?” I demand.

“I’ve known you since we were stealing candy bars from Old Man Russo’s store, Luca. I’ve never seen you like this over a woman.”

“I’m not—” I start to protest, then stop. What’s the point in lying to Nico? “Fine. Yes. I’m fucking obsessed with her. I can’t eat, can’t sleep. I want her under me, over me, beside me. I want her safe. Protected. Mine.”

Nico sits in the armchair across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “And she ran from you. Why?”

The question hits a nerve. “Because I came on too strong. Because she’s young and skittish and doesn’t understand what we could be together.”

“Or because you scared her,” Nico suggests quietly.

I glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch. Never has. Even when we were kids, Nico was the only one who stood his ground when I got angry.

“You think I don’t know how to handle a woman?” I scoff.

“I think you know how to handle business associates, enemies, and women who want nothing more than a night with Luca Ravello,” he counters. “But a woman you actually care about? That’s uncharted territory for you, my friend.”

I start to argue, then close my mouth. He’s not wrong.

“Don’t forget I pushed Caterina away,” Nico says after a moment.

This gets my attention. “I know. I remember.”

He smiles, a private, content expression I’ve never seen on him before. “I didn’t want to put her in danger, and I didn’t want to leave the priesthood. Her father didn’t want to lose his bargaining chip and would have put me in the ground if it wasn’t for you.”

“I did what any friend would do,” I assure him. Nico never has to thank me for anything.

“Well, I’m glad you’re my friend and not my enemy,” Nico pats my arm and takes a seat.

“How did you get her to fall in love with you? I thought I had Lily in the palm of my hand, and she left.”

“Not by threatening her or trying to control her,” Nico says pointedly. “If your Lily needs space, then you need to give it to her.”

“I don’t have that kind of patience,” I growl.

“Then you don’t love her,” Nico says simply. “You just want to possess her.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. “That’s not—I’m not—” I struggle to articulate the depth of my feelings for Lily. It’s more than possession, more than desire. It’s a need to protect her, to see her smile, to make her happy.

“Love requires patience, Luca. And gentleness.” Nico’s voice softens. “You can’t force Lily to love you the way you force the rest of the world to bend to your will. The harder you push, the farther she’ll run.”

I close my eyes again, picturing Lily’s face the last time I saw her—the mixture of desire and fear in those blue eyes. I’d scared her. The realization sits like lead in my stomach.

“Then what do I do?” I ask, the question unfamiliar on my tongue. I don’t ask for advice. Ever. But for Lily...

“Woo her,” Nico says simply. “Show her the man beneath the power. The one who cares for his community, who looks after his people. The Luca who stayed up all night with me when my mother was dying.”

I look away, uncomfortable with his assessment of my character. “That Luca is buried pretty deep these days.”

“Not as deep as you think.” Nico stands, moving to a cabinet where he keeps his liquor. He pours two fingers of scotch into crystal tumblers and hands one to me. “She’s the governor’s daughter, Luca. She has been surrounded by power and politics her whole life. Show her something real instead.”

I swirl the amber liquid, considering his words. The thought of being vulnerable, of showing Lily the parts of myself I’ve kept locked away for decades, makes my skin crawl. But the alternative—losing her—is worse.

“I’ve already told her I’m coming for her on Friday,” I admit.

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Told her or threatened her?”

I don’t answer, which is answer enough.

“Text her,” he suggests. “Tell her you’d like to see her, but you understand if she needs more time. Put the ball in her court.”

“And if she says no?”

“Then you respect that,” Nico says firmly. “And try again. Gently.”

I down the scotch in one burning swallow, the heat spreading through my chest. “That isn’t my style.”

“Maybe your style needs an update,” Nico counters with a small smile.

The image of sharing a meal with Governor Moore makes me snort. “Somehow, I doubt Jackson Moore will be welcoming me with open arms anytime soon. He barely wants to endorse me for mayor. I’ll have to count on losing his support.”

“One bridge at a time,” Nico advises. “First, win the girl. The rest will follow.”

“I’ll try. But I make no promises. This girl makes me too crazy to think straight.”

I stay for another hour, listening to Nico’s counsel, letting his calm certainty soothe my restlessness. By the time I leave, the sun is setting over Brooklyn, casting long shadows across the brownstone-lined streets.

In my car, I pull out my phone and stare at Lily’s name in my contacts. My thumbs hover over the screen as I consider what to say. Finally, I type:

Me: I miss you, baby girl. I’ll try to be patient.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then toss the phone onto the passenger seat. It’s the most uncertain I’ve felt in years, this waiting, this not knowing.

Because Nico’s right—what I feel for her is more than possession. It’s something I haven’t allowed myself to feel since I was a boy, something I’ve convinced myself was a weakness.

It’s love. And it terrifies me more than any enemy I’ve ever faced.