Chapter 2

Ava’s hands were steady, but her heart wasn’t.

The night air clung to her skin as she walked, heels clicking against the pavement in an uneven rhythm. The neon glow of the city flickered against the wet asphalt, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still trapped in that bar, in the presence of him.

Luca Moretti.

She had made a mistake.

She never should have let him speak to her. Never should have looked into those cold, unreadable eyes.

Ava knew men like him—powerful, dangerous, used to getting what they wanted. And Luca? He wanted her.

But she couldn’t afford to be noticed.

She pulled her coat tighter around her, quickening her pace. Her apartment was only a few blocks away. If she could just make it inside, lock the door, and pretend tonight never happened—

"Ava."

Her entire body went cold.

The voice was deep, smooth. Familiar.

She turned slowly, pulse hammering against her ribs.

Luca stood in the shadows at the end of the alleyway, his suit pristine despite the grit of the city. He was too calm, too composed—like he had all the time in the world to wait for her to acknowledge him.

Ava swallowed hard. "Are you following me?"

Luca stepped forward, the movement slow, deliberate. "Would it scare you if I said yes?"

A shiver ran down her spine. "It should."

His lips curled slightly, a dark amusement flickering across his face. "But it doesn’t."

Ava hated that he was right.

She should be terrified. She was terrified. But beneath the fear was something else. Something far more dangerous.

Luca closed the distance between them, stopping just close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence. "You left too quickly," he murmured. "We weren’t finished."

Ava took a step back, forcing space between them. "We have nothing to finish. You don’t know me."

"But I do." His voice was velvet, laced with something lethal. "I know you work at that little bookstore on Fifth. I know you don’t belong in places like that bar, but you went anyway. And I know you’re running from something."

Her breath hitched.

Luca tilted his head slightly, watching her. "What is it, Ava? What are you so desperate to escape?"

She clenched her jaw. "That’s none of your business."

Luca didn’t blink. "It is now."

Something inside her snapped.

"You don’t own me," she said, forcing steel into her voice. "You don’t control me, and you sure as hell don’t get to decide what is and isn’t your business."

Luca studied her for a long moment, and then—he smiled.

Slow. Amused.

Like he enjoyed this.

"Yet," he murmured.

Ava’s breath caught. "Excuse me?"

Luca stepped forward again, erasing the space she had created. His fingers lifted, barely grazing the edge of her coat, like he was testing how far he could go before she stopped him.

"You say I don’t own you," he said softly. "That I don’t control you. But tell me something, dolcezza." His fingers trailed the fabric, a whisper of a touch. "If I kissed you right now, would you stop me?"

Heat coiled low in her stomach, traitorous and unwelcome.

She should say yes.

She should push him away.

But her silence was answer enough.

Luca’s expression darkened, satisfaction flickering in his gaze. "I thought so."

Ava forced herself to move, to take a shaky step back. "This… whatever this is—it’s not happening."

Luca let her go, but his smirk remained. "Keep telling yourself that, Ava."

Her throat tightened.

"You should stay away from me," she whispered.

Luca chuckled. "I think we both know that’s not going to happen."

And the worst part?

Ava wasn’t sure she wanted it to.